|Threw away the Indian food leftovers...
||[Feb. 28th, 2014|09:32 pm]
I knew I'd never be able to eat them; they were too tightly wrought with memories. But somehow, throwing them away was going to mean finality - it wasn't all a dream. It wasn't going to suddenly become some big mistake. "Whoops, sorry pal, we're the controllers of the universe, and you just got an awful dose of what might have been. Boy, don't some alternate realities *suck*! But that's not for you, here's what really happened!" |
You can avoid some things that you're afraid will hurt, but you can't live your life in fear of what is. So it was time to recognize the past, even if there's an ugly bit of irony when that recognition consists of taking something that was once very good and throwing it away.
(But because I'm that kind of weirdo, I mixed it with shredded paper so it's eligible for yard waste, and will be composted.)
So an appropriate quote from a song that's far too optimistic for me now, but nevertheless touches the spirit of the situation:
The selkie was mine as I grew from a maid
for seven sweet years we loved unafraid
but all sweet things end,
no matter how well they are made
I'd long found wisdom in that, because while relationships may survive a lifetime, they will change, and there will be endings in those changes. No sweet thing lasts forever. I just wish the ending was kind.
I think I missed the context for this, but nonetheless it seems like a thing for which hugs ought be offered, so I offer you hugs.
And also, this, which I am reminded of: The last soup of Allen Ginsberg
I can't go into specifics on the context. Basically, a breakup happened. I found that I was the cause of a great deal of stress and many problems, and suffering from a great many delusions.
I think that the breakup could have been just a breakup, instead. You know, "Hey, about 'this'? I need us to stop doing that."
With just a breakup, I may still not be able to eat the food - it's from a very good place, and who wants the pain of a fresh breakup intertwined with memories of good food? But now it would also be mixed with ick and self doubt and... yeah, a bit of self-loathing, which I try to avoid, but which can still sneak in.
Thank you for the offer; it's gratefully accepted and returned.
Thank you. I'm sorry too... but life will go on.
Accepted gratefully and returned. Thank you.