Songs and Heartache

Kaiko’s place is nice.  The sofa makes a soft bed and the insulation for the apartment is much better than the house in PG.  No complaints.

I finished watching “Just Married” about half an hour ago.  Ashton Kucher and Brittney Murphy.  The premise was marriage at young age and the perennial issue of whether love is enough to sustain a marriage over time.  The movie was… blah.  But, it got me thinking.  It got me thinking about Alicia Keys’ song, “When You Really Love Someone”:

‘Cause a man just ain’t a man if he ain’t man enough

To love you when you’re right
Love you when you’re wrong
Love you when you’re weak
Love you when you’re strong
Take you higher in a world when you’re feeling low
He’s giving you his last, ’cause he’s thinking of you first
Giving comfort when he’s thinking that you’re hurt
That’s what it’s like when you really really love someone

Shit.  It’s like listening to a critique of my love for L.  How can I say that I really loved her if it was conditional?  Did I really love her as much as I did if I don’t feel shitty when I think about our break-up?  No heartache.  No regrets.  No “fuck-I-lost-a-good-thing” feeling.  I’m glad it’s over.  I have that feeling Tim Robbins got when he crawled out of the sewers in “Shawshank” — the exhilaration of freedom.  But, that’s it.  How could I have loved L. so truly and deeply if my happiness now can be equated to Robbins’ after escaping prison by crawling through football fields of feces?

It’s a fucking mystery that I’ve tried to solve with all my closest of friends.  No explanation so far really strikes as the right one.

I suspect that I’m just really, really, really pissed off and I’m trying to keep an Hiroshima-type explosion on the down-low… a Southeast Asian tsunami-like sobbing session at bay.  Did this break-up fuck me up so bad, so deeply that I’m still incapable of fully experiencing its full effect?  Was I so thoroughly wounded that I had to shut off my ability to feel about anything related to this relationship?  It would make sense.  I close out any feelings so that I wouldn’t feel the pain, and, as a side-effect, I feel like I’m over L.  I feel like I’ve moved on, that I’m neither attached nor feel the love I once had for her.  Geez… and I thought I was good at understanding myself.

When I drove home that night after leaving R. and her friends, I started thinking about how much I missed that feeling.  That feeling of being around someone who made you enjoy the moment.  Carpe diem.  I always live for the future, work for that day when I would reach my various goals.  When I was with L., I just loved being around her.  I didn’t care about the next day or worried about the future.  I didn’t mind what we were doing as long as I was with L.  I didn’t care where we were going as long as she was going with me.  It was… goddammit… love.

So, I was driving home and David Gray starting singing “Be Mine”:

From the very first moment I saw you
That’s when I knew
All the dreams I held in my heart
Had suddenly come true…

Fuck.  I was bawling.  The tears ran down my face and clouded my vision like the rain that poured on my windshield as I entered Monterey that night.  It felt so good to cry.  I hit the repeat button just so the lyrics could elicit all my pent up emotions again.  Could I have been any more morbid?

I wrote it off, though.  I wrote it off as my feelings for R. that were twisted into my recollections of L. But, maybe those tears were genuinely for our dead relationship?

Whether or not I’m suppressing the full impact of this break-up, I just hope it doesn’t manifest during any new relationship.

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