I've been driving...which is what I do when I am "wild" (the definition of wild here is that place where you cannot be still or you will crash...movement is necessary...I suppose it is flight, but on a measured scale), so I've been driving. And driving. For about an hour.
And I passed over a place in the road where four years ago, I used to walk with my black lab mix Roxy at 5:30am every morning. It was a 1.5 mile stretch...meaning we ended up doing three, usually in the dark. Mylifewassimplerthen. And as I passed over that stretch, I wanted to step back into those wee hours with my dear (now passed) friend and feel what it was like to not hurt over every little thing. The way I am doing right now.
And it's crazy. It's crazy to be so overly sensitive. Crazy. But, I am the owner of crazy at this stage in the game and like it or lump it, it's where I am at. So, tonight, I am sad...because my mad crush passed me on his bike with a girl on back. And my friend argues, it could have been family (which along with a few details I am leaving out, makes good sense). And yes, of course. But, sensitive girl that I am, overly sensitive CRAZY girl that I am...I feel wild about this possibility of it being a "girl" unrelated to him, and so I've had to drive.
Why? Because I really see something there...in him. And I don't know if he'll share it with anyone, least of all me. But, I can't seem to let go of it. And everything hurts. EVERYTHING hurts. And this is so new for me. Because I've always KNOWN that nothing was for me in this world and once you begin to think that something might be for you in this world, you introduce pain into your small universe. And it just nibbles at you from all angles. Not believing, although hopeless, feels numb. I was tired of numb, so now I've gone and got everything. And I feel like some living thing (I know not what to call it, but someone smarter will) that has way too many tentacles on its body and takes in so much information that it cannot possibly digest it, so it stays over-stimulated and a bit raw on its ends.
This too shall pass. I know you are saying it. I know it is true. However, the interim is quite excruciating.
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2 comments:
I'd much rather have someone agree with me that whatever I am going through is horrible, emotionally crippling, and traumatic. Then I get to roll my eyes at them and say, "Jeez, it's not that big a deal. It might knock you flat, but I'll be fine."
As Mr. Stipe taught us, everybody hurts. Sometimes.
I have been waiting almost 40 years for the feeling of being a giant, raw, throbbing nerve ending to go away.
Hasn't yet, but I'm still hopeful.
The thing that keeps me from driving into a bridge abuttment is that I think being sensitive, as horribly, achingly painful as it is, makes you gentler, more able to empathize and care for others.
I have to think that people like us, who cry at the climaxes of stupid movies and go into a funk for a week after a moving, affecting read, are better at being human.
I have to think that, or I start crying.
As much as I'd love to be emotionally distant and cold and affected by nothing, as Mr. Dylan taught us, "it ain't me, babe".
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