getting you out of my system
I think I saw my heart floating around the toilet bowl somewhere between my lunch and dinner.
Nothing stayed down yesterday. Embraced into seperate homes for a large lunch, and then a large celebratory dinner, both refused to stay down in my stomach. All my body wanted was emptiness.
I had my last cry when I woke up at four a.m., when I put some music on and cried into my cereal.
Later that morning I strolled into the Tuesday market, puffy eyed but cleansed. I stopped at the bar, and laughed into my black coffee when my server asked me if I was alright, telling him I was only tired.
I ran into his dad, the charming pizza man. He asked me how things were between us. "Well, they're finished." He wanted to know why, and I explained that it wasn't my choice. He told me that his son was an idiot, and that I was the most beautiful girl in town. I laughed, taking attention away from my watering eyes, and offered him another name of a girl I thought more beautiful.
Even the air was different. I swear the weather works with my mood. The morning was cold and grey, but the summer sun came out, and yellow leaves turned around my feet as I walked an old road.
And when I went to a friend's for a birthday dinner I was all love and laughter. Full of conversation. Happy to be one again. I was told I made a huge impression at my friend's party the other night, especially on the male gender, which came as a surprise as I spent the whole night dancing with myself in a dream world.
But it's nice to know I can still make an impression. There's always a part of me that craves attention, just as a part of me craves another body.
It's not easy. But if I've learnt anything this past month it's that relationships aren't easy. Couples that have been together for years, couples with children, have been breaking up all around me. It seems to be a re-occuring theme these days. And a huge part of it is just not knowing how to talk to each other.
I went to bed, stomach still in knots, but smiling to myself. Atleast life is interesting, I thought. I'll always be addicted to personal drama. I'll always feel relieved by knowing I can still cry. I'll always be able to laugh at myself.
I've just got to get him out of my system. Then I can get back to being the girl I thought I was. The one who wouldn't cry over a boy.
Nothing stayed down yesterday. Embraced into seperate homes for a large lunch, and then a large celebratory dinner, both refused to stay down in my stomach. All my body wanted was emptiness.
I had my last cry when I woke up at four a.m., when I put some music on and cried into my cereal.
Later that morning I strolled into the Tuesday market, puffy eyed but cleansed. I stopped at the bar, and laughed into my black coffee when my server asked me if I was alright, telling him I was only tired.
I ran into his dad, the charming pizza man. He asked me how things were between us. "Well, they're finished." He wanted to know why, and I explained that it wasn't my choice. He told me that his son was an idiot, and that I was the most beautiful girl in town. I laughed, taking attention away from my watering eyes, and offered him another name of a girl I thought more beautiful.
Even the air was different. I swear the weather works with my mood. The morning was cold and grey, but the summer sun came out, and yellow leaves turned around my feet as I walked an old road.
And when I went to a friend's for a birthday dinner I was all love and laughter. Full of conversation. Happy to be one again. I was told I made a huge impression at my friend's party the other night, especially on the male gender, which came as a surprise as I spent the whole night dancing with myself in a dream world.
But it's nice to know I can still make an impression. There's always a part of me that craves attention, just as a part of me craves another body.
It's not easy. But if I've learnt anything this past month it's that relationships aren't easy. Couples that have been together for years, couples with children, have been breaking up all around me. It seems to be a re-occuring theme these days. And a huge part of it is just not knowing how to talk to each other.
I went to bed, stomach still in knots, but smiling to myself. Atleast life is interesting, I thought. I'll always be addicted to personal drama. I'll always feel relieved by knowing I can still cry. I'll always be able to laugh at myself.
I've just got to get him out of my system. Then I can get back to being the girl I thought I was. The one who wouldn't cry over a boy.
posted by Gillian Young at 10:15 PM
2 Comments:
Oh Gill, I'm so sorry you are hurting and yet I am so glad you are writing your pain onto the page -- and so beautifully.
I won't try to console or reassure you, but know that I care about you and your heart and wish you the best.
You've said everything I needed to hear. Really. I'm the lucky one.
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