MEComposing

Someone once said that:

Nothing since Adam and Eve
has made Death other than Death

or something like that.

And nobody, even Oprah and Dr. Phil and Iyanla vanzant, not even Maya Angelou nor Judith Viorst, can make a break-up other than a break-up.

Your heart breaks. Your spirit breaks. Your body breaks. Your better judgment fails you. You break... and then you brokenly live on.

Sooner or later, if Heaven has blessed you with enough common sense, you become repaired. But yes, you have scars where the breaks used to be. Maybe that's why scarred people are considered beautiful... they've fought the good fight. They've actually lived.

*~*

Most of my break-ups were typical, in the sense that it didn't happen in one day. I believe I can only remember two instances when the break-up conversation really ended everything.

For it seldom does.

And break-up conversations can be long drawn-out battles of rationalizations and irrationalities (is there such a word?)...

You say your goodbyes, but then you see each other again because you decide to stay friends... and he brings you home (as usual) and you both end up kissing (as usual).

You bid your adieus, but you're each other's guest of honor still for each other's birthdays. Worse, she's now your sister's best friend, and he's your nephew's godfather. Even worse, your parents refuse to accept any other suitor.

And what with text messaging now, the routine reminders to eat and sleep and take care... they're hard habits to break.

And all the notes and gifts and flowers he/she gave... all remain in their pedestals in your room.

And then one day it hits you, i've really let him go. I can stop holding onto the pain and memories and possibilities now (and this, even if he's been a jerk or she's been a total b!tch).

And you cease to hold onto candy wrappers and popsicle sticks. And you start reclaiming favorite songs, forgetting that it once featured in a date with him/her. What's more, you start thinking of other people when you hear the same song.

Falling in love is something you're aware of... realizing the giddy feelings, no matter how upsetting or unwelcome, for what they are. Aware of your awareness of his presence... of his absence.

But falling out of love, it's the real thief that steals in the quiet of night. You're never aware that healing is transpiring...

And you laugh when, at the prospect of meeting an ex, you fret and worry over how you'd feel, then realize after seeing him... that his face may be something you'd always hold dear, but he's just a boy from your past now and you need not have worried.

You have moved on.

Congratulations.

*~*

Somebody send me the mp3 of Come to My Window