“When I’m tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
And dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away
It’s more than a feeling
(More than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play
(More than a feeling)
I begin dreaming
(More than a feeling)
‘Til I see Marianne walk away ”
More Than a Feeling– Boston
“(There’s life underground)
I feel it all around / I feel it in my bones
My life is on the line / When I’m away from home
When I step out the door / The jungle is alive
I do not trust my ears / I don’t believe my eyes
I will not fall in love / I cannot risk the bet
Cause hearts are fragile toys / so easy to forget ”
Just Another Day– Oingo Boingo
Sometimes I sit down and type these words and am amazed at the simple truths I learn about myself. The words that appear on the screen illuminate and enlighten me. Now I suppose that to some it sounds narcissistic and superficial, but I would argue that it is not really either, at least not in this context. Because here is where we empty out our mental closet and ask if there is a purpose for the contents contained therein.
These simple truths are my reality check. They are where I confirm whether I am being truly honest with myself. It is one thing to engage in acts of deception and duplicity with others but quite another to do so with oneself. For the lies that we tell ourselves are among the most harmful and the most dangerous.
And that is how I came to realize that I have been fooling myself about many things, but primarily about you.
In the beginning I used my anger to shield myself from the pain of our separation. I tried your trick and made a list of your negative traits and actions. It worked for a very brief time. For a short time it convinced me that none of it had been real. Those feelings were a lie that I have conceived because I had been desperate to find someone like you.
The very thought of being desperate filled me with shame and in turn made me even angrier. That anger was my friend. It cloaked the pain of the loss and made me feel like it hadn’t been as terrible as my heart made it seem.
My heart was what made me let go of my anger. It was what told me that I was sad and not angry. So I let go of the anger and tried another tack, to forget.
I thought of the heroes of the music and movies I have loved and made a conscious decision to start walking. I’d walk the other direction and you’d never see me turn my head around to look back. Each day would take me one step further away from you. And with each moment I’d find it easier to forget and easier to just live my life.
That was smart. It was sensible, really the wise and mature move. And so I tried it. I envisioned it as being part of a great adventure. I was a hero who was heading off into the unknown. It didn’t matter what, could have been a soldier going to war or a cowboy out on the range.
The only thing that I cared about was finding a way to keep busy until I reached that moment where IÂ no longer noticed that you weren’t standing by my side.
It was far harder than I expected it to be. A million little things reminded me of you. Songs on the radio, stories people told, movies, books and more made it virtually impossible to do. I told myself that I needed to just buck up, and keep busy. Promised that every day I lasted would make it easier, little victories that I could build on.
Some days were harder than others. I’d sit on the couch and wonder how I could feel so empty and hollow. It wasn’t time that my heart was broken.I told myself that I had been through it before and that was proof that this would be just another story.
But this was harder because it was the worst.
Time passed and the pain eased. Gradually I began to wonder if it was gone. It happened faster than I expected. It made me sad to say goodbye to the pain. Made me wonder if I had fooled myself. But then I figured that it was silly to over analyze it and I just went about my day.
And then I dreamt about you. It was as vivid and real as any dream I have ever had. It brought it all crashing down upon me. All the memories and all the feelings came storming back. The good and the bad, it all showed up for some sort of crazy reunion.
I could tell you about it. If I wanted to I could share so many details you’d ask if I had made it up. But that would be a betrayal of a different sort. It is far too intimate and not because it is sexual. That intimacy is derived from the sort of mature love that can’t really be explained.
All that took place a while back. I decided that I wasn’t going to make myself crazy by over thinking it. Wasn’t going to try to analyze every little thing either. Haven’t reached out because the unofficial rules of this say that it is not time.
Don’t really have a plan, just going to take it day by day and see what happens. I find it all very curious and wonder if this is the road to wreck or ruin. I suppose that we will find out.
(Not sure where I am going to insert this in Fragments of Fiction)