Hey, that ought to be a song! (...) Okay, those of you who aren't survivors of the 80's wouldn't get that. Nevermind.
Oh, and by the way? A broken heart is, surprisingly enough, not fatal. It only feels like a mortal wound. In actuality, it's more like having your eye taken out...
WITH A SPORK.
So, for those of you privy to my private life (you know who you are), you'll be interested in knowing that the saga of Ray and I has come to a close. I know, I know... it's appeared that way so many times that at this point I make the boy that cried wolf look like George Washington (okay, people, keep up... 'I cannot tell a lie'... remember? What, did you sleep through that story when you were little?), but it's true. I will always love him, I'm sure (hey, don't yell at me... the heart wants what it wants, and if you fuck with it, it will make your life a misery. Trust.), and it's a lot more painful than my smartass remarks would have you believe (imagine, me making smartass remarks... who knew? You're in shock, aren't you?), but I guess everything happens for a reason. Or so the fortune cookie tells me.
I don't know what's in store for me now. I know that college? Is giving me a serious kick in the ass. I will SO be ready by the time winter break comes along. I know that I have any number of things to keep me busy on a regular basis. But then there's the big void... missing the man that broke my heart into many little pieces? Is just a price I'm going to have to pay for trying to save my sanity and self-respect. I'm pretty sure you can't die from missing someone, even when it feels like it could happen at any second. I know this because, of late, I've become aware of something rather important. If anyone is still paying attention by this time, that is...
No matter how real my feelings for Ray are/were, the fact of the matter is that by submersing myself in all the drama and pain and manic highs and lows of that relationship and its attendant issues, I managed to insulate myself from the pain of losing Jonathan. I went through a lot of anger for various reasons when he died, and a huge amount of agony, and it was really, in hindsight, just too much for me to bear. It began fucking with me on so many levels... I did some things I wish I hadn't, said things I wish I hadn't... you get the picture. It was like going through a period where everything you thought you knew and felt was totally turned inside-out and upside-down. You can't think straight, and your emotions are on high boil. At some point, self-preservation kicks in and you do what you have to to make it through the following days. So I kind of stuck it in an internal box, as it were, and the only way to keep from opening the box or having it slip open and knock me flat was to pile more boxes on top of it. Those were the boxes I filled with all things Ray. There were a lot of things that happened that I never blogged about, and still won't (although a few of you know about them), that were really dramatic events and could have ended our relationship. But I held on. Part of it, of course, was because of what I felt for him. That's a no-brainer. No one who knows me or has listened to me talk can help but know how strong my feelings are for Ray. But on top of that? Was the fact that all the drama with him allowed me to keep from dealing with that one other box...
Make sense to anyone but me? If not, the complaint box is... *looks around*... hmmmm... Gee, I'm sure there should be one around here somewhere... *coughs*
Anyhoo. I am now going to deal with the box. And all the other boxes, too. I am going to spend some time actually figuring out some things in my life that I've been avoiding for too long. Not consciously avoiding, you understand... I really wasn't aware of it at all. Tricky bastard, that subconscious.
And I'll post more, FYI. For the few people still lingering around here through my bouts of silence, I shall endeavor to get with the entertaining and the witty! And the sporkings!
I do love me a spork...
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