Sad Sad Songs

She put on the sad sad songs and decided to wallow awhile.  It was self indulgent and fruitless.  It certainly wouldn’t help.  In the moment none of that mattered.

 

The wallowing gave a temporary reprieve from the pressing air.  There was a fiction of movement.  As though this was somehow moving on.

 

But she was not entirely naïve.  She recognized this as the junior high school response to heartache.  There was only so long this could fill any need in a grown person’s life.

 

The volume increased along with the wallowing.  The reprieve would only be temporary, so she may as well take it for all it was worth.  She could feel baselines in her belly.  She was tapping rhythm with her fingers.  She felt melody welling up inside of her.

 

She was tentative at first.  Her movements were subtle.  Her voice was a whisper.  She was aware of how this might look.

 

And she let the crest of the wave break on her.  She sang.  She danced.  She closed her eyes and gave herself over. 

 

Time ceased to matter.  Outside concerns melted away.  She was only aware of the sound of her voice and the beat of her heart.

 

And when she had poured everything out into the ocean of sound, she breathed deep and opened her eyes.

 

“Enough” she said to the empty room.

 

Stop

It’s too easy to give yourself away.  Every time you say you will not repeat the mistake.  But you do.  Because you want to believe this time will be different.  But it isn’t.

 

It may seem so at first.  You talk.  You laugh.  You believe you’ve turned the corner.  Come back to where it was good and you both felt safe.  But it doesn’t last. 

 

You give yourself away and then comes silence.  You feel unwanted, ignored.  Your heart tells you to reach out.  Your pride tells you to wait.

 

And days pass.  It hurts to think someone who told you they loved you doesn’t want to talk to you.  And you want to talk to him.  You want to hear his voice, share his world.   But you get silence.

 

Your friends are sympathetic at first.  Things come up they say.  Don’t read too much into it they say.

 

But as the same behavior plays out again and again, they become frustrated on your behalf.  It’s a game they say.  You deserve better they say.

 

And sometimes you believe this.  Believe you deserve someone who can’t wait to hear your voice, see your face, touch your hand.  Deserve someone who doesn’t take you for granted.  Deserve someone who is proud to be with you.

 

And sometimes you reply by telling them they don’t know the whole story.  How when you are together it’s wonderful.  How he’s not a bad guy.  How you understand why there is so much leaving.  How it’s not really his fault.

 

But you’ve given yourself away and now you can’t take it back.  The leaving is a choice and you are not being chosen.  There are games being played and you don’t know the rules.

 

You realize the effort you expend trying to hold things together is not being met halfway.  You realize you are a matter of convenience.  You realize you are only wanted some of the time.  You realize it’s the idea of you and what could be that’s of interest.  You realize he stopped seeing you some time ago.

 

You feel hurt, then angry.  Sadness replaces that and it all ends with acceptance.

 

You recognize your friends were right.  He’s not a bad guy.  He’s just not good to you.  He makes you sad.  He lets you down.  He tells you he loves you but treats you as though you are inconsequential.  He is playing a game, an unconscious one, but a game nonetheless.

 

And you are tired of playing.  So you stop.  And it isn’t easy because you still love.  But love isn’t enough anymore.

 

So you stop.  Stop giving yourself away.  Because there is no more of you to give.  Because you are worth more.  Because you can’t continue to care this much.  Because the beauty of what was has become overshadowed by the pain of what is.

 

So you stop.  And there is silence.

 

And freedom.