When you fall down you never wonder about whether or not you will be able to get up, you just do it. You pop back up and move on. Maybe you have a few bumps and bruises but you are usually fine. Personally, I love falling. Falling down. Falling in love. Falling apart. Falling behind. Falling for a joke. Unfortunately not all falling is as easy to recover from as falling down even though it is really the same basic concept.
Falling in love is especially difficult to recover from once you hit the ground. You know you will be able to get up but you just aren’t sure how and it seems like an especially impossible feat when face meets asphalt after your first love disappears into the horizon and you are left there wondering how exactly the sun is now smirking at you from such an odd angle. Soon you realize that the heat in your flushed cheeks is not, in fact, from this asphalt ground you picture yourself lying on; instead it is a mixture of anger, sadness, depression, confusion, desperation, anxiety, pain, agony, and a whole hodgepodge of unidentifiable emotions screaming through your head in delirium. It’s an improbably painful fever broken only by the seemingly unattainable sanity of reality. A reality that can only be seen through the eyes of a person whose entire being isn’t overwhelmed with daggers of pain and whose heart isn’t decorated with gaping holes where someone else used to live so comfortably.
Somehow though, after living in your own comfortable bubble of darkness for days, weeks, or months, someone finally penetrates the bubble and starts to let light back in. Lends you a hand you are finally willing to accept and hold on to for dear life as you start your slow return from the supine position you had previously believed you would assume for the rest of your unlovable existence. Because at some point you realize that you have been festering – dwelling on the same hurt and pain, regurgitating the same false beliefs that your irrational brain has set to repeat, playing them over and over until you are so brainwashed and numb that you begin to believe up is down and left is right. As an aside, it was around this time that I decided that I would repeat this gem to myself: left is always right, except of course when it’s wrong. I figured if my brain was going to fuck up my thinking I might as well try to fuck up my whole world while I was at it…except now it’s kind of my motto since it basically makes no sense to anybody who isn’t as psychotic as me.
Once you start to get your thoughts and feelings sorted back out and stop letting the irrational beat out the rational things begin to look up again, albeit very slowly. Positivity is easy to put out into the world but it is quite another thing to be on the receiving end of. Accepting the bright side after falling down into a deep abyss of loneliness and pain is almost an affront. How dare people think we should be happy again after such debilitating pain! Fuckers. But, as we all know, just like falling down, we must get back up. We must continue onward. And this is why I love falling, because each time you do it, getting back up becomes easier. Figuring out how to stand on your own again begins to become second nature. You start to believe that not only will you be okay, but you will love again. You will. Because love is out there. It’s in you. It’s everywhere. You just have to find it.
I could love anyone. Love is easy. You can find something to love inside everyone and I think everybody deserves to be loved. However, just because I could love anybody doesn’t mean I should. As seen in my fail date posts 1 and 2 (3 and 4 are currently in draft form) I’m not always the best at picking people with which I am compatible. I am rather terrible at it, to be truthful. When I am proactive about dating I always go for the wrong people because I want to give everybody a chance but when I am not really trying I can find someone perfect for me…perfect for me but at the most incredibly wrong time. A dilemma I am fairly certain we have all come face to face with on more than one occasion. For the longest time I told myself that this was a sign proving to me that I would be alone forever, but now I am convinced that it means at one point I will meet the right guy at the right time and everything will work out. Until then I will remain firm in my faith and my hope because I have learned that when I lose both of those I go back to my old ways of going after the person that I know will hurt me most.
Going back to someone who hurts us is a common denominator among all human beings who have experienced love. I think the reason we do it is because we like the pain. We think the pain is part of the love. We believe that love, without pain, is no love at all! We have to take the good with the bad, right? Wrong. True, there will always be difficult times but I can tell you now that they will never be as difficult as whatever that person continues to put you through. Just because you love them doesn’t mean they hold the same caliber of affection for you. Learning that you deserve better and then forcing yourself to let go of the bad and go for what you deserve is probably more difficult than getting off that ground once you have fallen. I still have trouble believing that I deserve anything. I fall into the trap of thinking that nobody will want me around for very long because I’m not pretty enough or smart enough or skinny enough or rich enough or kind enough or stable enough. I have flaws and therefore nobody will love me – that is a thought that likes to resurface quite often and pushing it back down is not as easy as I thought it would be. But I am trying. Every day. Because I have hope that at some point I will find someone who really sees me and realizes that they can never let me go. When I really see who a person is that’s how I feel, but I usually have to settle for just being friends but at least I get to keep them in my life.
So always remember that when you fall, you can get back up. You will know when you meet the right person because you will see them and they will see you inside and out. They will know you and you will know them and together you will make sense. And this person? This person will be right beside you every time you fall, catching you before you can hit the ground.
P.S. As always I feel the need to sign off in a very me kind of way so…
May your week be filled with random glitter bombs thrown at coworkers, may your mornings be spiked with coffee and rock and roll, and may your Friday begin and end with a break-for-dance moment.
This is a (really) short story I wrote a few months back when I was having trouble piecing my heart back together. I wanted to cry and throw things and scream because it all hurt so much, but instead I wrote. And this is what came out:
The weight of a misplaced emotion can absorb you. Pull you down. Control you. Unworthiness. Insecurity. Hate. You can feel them; embrace them. Let them warm you like the welcome heat of the sun. It doesn’t make sense but you don’t want to let go. Warmth is comfort. Why would you ever abandon comfort? They say it isn’t good for you. But what do they know? Listen to your heart. Hear it pull at you. Shove you.
Two roads diverged…no, two people diverged. Both taking the road less traveled. She, full of emptiness, heartbreak, hopelessness. He full of anger, hate, and sentiments of good riddance. Which one was right? She asked for little, he gave even less. She wanted love, he wanted…what did he want? She will never know. He will walk on. She will attempt control, comforted by her loneliness. Untouchable. She can’t break anymore, already shattered.
The world will continue on. He will continue on. She will…decide. Here. Now. Yes or no. All or nothing.
She smiles up at the sun. Mocking her. Pain is kind. Love is vicious.
Has she moved yet? He is gone. Already. Hysterical, she takes a tentative step. First one, then another. Stopping shortly. Wrapped up in thoughts of the end.
It all makes sense. So simple. So easy. It doesn’t matter, does it? There is more, isn’t there? To her, there is. Much more. Waiting. She has a choice. He is gone now. Nothing else matters. What is beyond? She always wondered. Is this her chance?
Fear is so far away. Close your eyes. Listen to the world. What does it say? Does it want you? Can you feel it? What does it say? WHAT DOES IT SAY? Welcome. You are always welcome. Here. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. It waits.
Shattered, just like her. What is left? Everything.
Moving forward is moving back. Moving back is impossible. Forward, backward. It is all the same. Spinning in circles. Careless and carefree. Forward she goes, backward in the process. The sun replaced by the moon, lighting the way. Backward while forward. We’ve been here before. Always. Time moves around us, we remain.
Steady. Unbreakable. Untouchable.
Love is everything. Love remains to torment, torture, tear down. Rebuild.
In loving memory, of what we once were. Of what she is now. Of where he is going, been, left behind. She will never escape him.
He approaches. She has hardly moved. Yet here he comes, swiftly toward her. A tornado unable to control its path. She waits, holding her ground. Ready for the storm. Welcoming the warm relief. The comfort of what is known. They collide. Become one. His anger stemming. Her comfort rising.
They are one. Forever.
This is a story. Just like any other. Of a boy and a girl…and a life. Where it beings and where it ends, if it ends. Does it?
We all live together in the same world, at the same time, the same life. Together we are apart. All the same, we are different. In our differences we relate. We can all relate. One story is no different from the other – this story is yours. It’s your friends. That person you passed on the street the other day. The man you bumped into on the subway yesterday. Your dentist. The wrong number you dialed last week. Your best friends. It is all of our stories. Maybe you have heard it all before, but you still want to know. You have questions, you want answers. But there never are any, and so, you constantly search.
He is her everything, that much you understand. She makes him what he is – that makes sense. But still, there is something; something unnamed, unknown, unanswerable, but you need the answer. And so you run. And you keep running – in circles, while she waits, usually in tears, sometimes in defiance, mostly in confusion. She will always wait. For you. Alone and uncertain of all but one thing – you.
You try to remember a time – a time before you were one. It is vague and it seems unreal. How could you have existed before each other when now one doesn’t make sense without the other?
My heart is still broken, but I have faith.