Love is synchronicity. Heartbreak is the severing of it. The way your body and mind react is the result of the loss of synchronization between two beings. Two hearts. Two minds. Sleep was a means to synchronize each night. As if my dream waves were searching for the complimentary receiver. We don’t sleep anymore and our waves don’t reach each other’s receivers. And we are not synchronized.
I am seeing things for what they are. A love song is a love song is a love song. I hear “home” by edward sharpe and I can still sing every word without faltering because I still love that song. Even though it meant something to us. The blue sky I see outside my window polka dotted with clouds is the sky I love and enjoy in this moment. I do not ponder the many nostalgic days under such a sky 3 years ago, 2 years ago, 1 year ago. The sky is the sky. Your house is still the house that I know. It is full of memories but I can see it without them. I am still allowed there even if my position is not what it was. The position I have in your heart is different now too, if I have one there at all. I am still dealing with that. The stars are the stars. Though it once held as strong a connection between us, as much as sleep, before we were one. When it seemed we were thousands of miles apart. And when we were thousands of miles apart literally the first summer, the stars closed the gap of distance and I knew it would hold us together before we could meet physically, finally. The stars are beautiful and captivate me in a way few other things can.
I know life is ok as long as I am joking. You can ask Sara the first day she spent 2 hours on the phone with me I started randomly laughing about the ridiculousness of the situation. Though that was probably mostly due to lack of sleep and trace of hysteria in between cries resembling a wounded animal’s death. Pretty funny when I think of it now.
The first time I drank myself past recognition I found myself face planted on the wooden floor in my own snot and tears willing myself to crawl to the bathroom to take a piss. I crawled all the way to the bathroom and somehow made it safely back to the couch where I awoke the next morning and laughed at myself. When I told Stephanie about it while I was smiling she was half laughing/half looking worried like why the fuck are you smiling about it.
Many times later now, I can safely say the highlight of my drunken nights is cuddling with the dog on my blankets all night to keep me warm. For the record, dogs are great for cuddling when you’re cold.
I can say that for lack of my emotional reactions to this situation (outwardly) my body has had a greater physical reaction in retaliation. I have sadly been almost in a constant state of sickness and am currently on my third cold since the beginning of January. Though I could just have bronchitis and it is occasionally repressed, but who knows, really. It doesn’t bother me that much as I’ve become obsessed with tea as a result and have no objection to buying more if need be. I take it all in stride.
I find life can be a joke if you see the lighter side of things and take it in optimistically. A week after it happened my uncle found my ring she gave me for our 1 year that I had lost around thanksgiving and I was thankful because I really hate losing things and that was very important. Even if I won’t wear it anymore I am glad to know I didn’t actually lose it. I hate losing things because I am so good at keeping track of everything. It is incredibly ironic though.
Two days after it happened I got accepted to WWU. Stephanie called it, “bittersweet”, but that it was still a very great accomplishment and I should be proud. And I am. And these things I find mostly ironic and hilarious because many people would be very sad but I am someone who can see the humor in it all. Sometimes it’s not “haha” funny, but sometimes it’s funny in a way that you have to look at the reality of situations and take them for what they are instead of feeling worse. It is a way to open your eyes.
Letting yourself feel worse, to me, is an easy way out. It is giving up. If you know me you know that I don’t give up, on anything. And that’s why a love song is a love song, and the sky is the sky, and the stars are stars, and in my sleep my brain waves are not looking for a receiver anymore. The second day, I willed myself out of bed so I could begin rebuilding. I have never been in bed for that long where I didn’t sleep for most of it. Shari told me the first day, “There is nothing in this world that lack of sleep can’t make worse”, when I had been awake for 36 hours for fear of sleep. She was right, as Sara will tell you about my random laugh/crying in the middle of watching Harry Potter while on the phone in hysterics. Ah, good times.
Funny, in a way that people know what will help me feel ok, and that those things seem almost ridiculous in comparison to the situation. Emily told me the first day, “You should call off work for tomorrow so you can just play video games read harry potter and drink mountain dew all day”, and when I think of that I laugh because those things really do make me feel better. The little things have always made me the most excited. I will confess that the other day I got the most excited I’ve been in weeks because I promised myself to watch Kill Bill that night before I slept, and that is my favorite movie in the world. My personality is not changed as my perspective of the world is. I am still ridiculous in every way, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be.
I guess I wish more people would realize that life is not as serious as it seems and it can always be worse. I am always saying, “at least…”. I told Sara that first morning that whenever I’m sad I always say to myself, “At least I’m not Harry Potter. His life really sucked.” And it made me feel a little better, because his parents were dead and he had some crazy lunatic trying to kill him his whole life. She laughed at me and I continued crying and still felt ridiculous. But seriously, life isn’t that serious. You just have to laugh about things sometimes and realize things will be ok.
The first morning Harrison was talking to me I said, “thanks for being my friend” and all he said was, “always”, and even though I felt like shit and everything I thought I knew was fucked up at that moment, I couldn’t resist replying back, “Thanks Snape”, and I made myself feel a little better because I was joking even after this horrible thing had happened.
One of the most important things that’s happened to me was when I had to stop playing soccer. I was kind of depressed for awhile back then. Anyway, the medicine I have to take for my heart condition (the reason I had to stop) is Atenolol. Today when I was taking my medicine I was thinking about how I am always joking about things and I read the label, “Atenolol”. Can’t have atenolol without LOL. My entire life is a joke, in a good way.
"I’m not saying sex. I don’t need that. I’m saying staying up reading kindergarten books with you, not necessarily reading them, but reminscing on how we used to love reading these over and over, especially the ones where you can feel the dog’s fur and the alligator’s scales. I’m saying playing card games and boardgames. Watching you make the most adorable faces at me and sticking your tongue out everytime you win and saying psh, I just let you win everytime I do. I’m saying making handshadows on the wall. Laying a flashlight on the floor and making our hand puppets pretend to eat each other. I’m saying popping a good CD or putting your ipod on the ihome while we just lay there drawing pictures with our fingers in the air. I’m saying finger food. Getting all the fruits, crackers, chips, and candy from the kitchen, blindfolding me, and telling me you’re going to feed me a strawberry and you put a lemon in my mouth. I’m saying looking at pictures. Going through albums of when we were babies and what our parents looked like in high school. I’m saying star gazing. Opening the curtains and letting the moon be the only source of light in the room. Pointing out constellations and naming stars after one another. I’m saying prank calls. Laying down next to each other, on our stomachs, looking through yellowpages, and practicing our british, indian, or asian accents before we dial the number. I’m saying just maxing. Snuggling next to each other, letting our bodies touch as if we’re about to dance the tango. Our chests are glued to one another and our arms and legs are interlaced. I’m not saying sex. I don’t need that."