![heartinthesnow [Image of heart in the snow]](http://www.blakejennelle.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/heartinthesnow-300x225.jpg)
I’m living through a breakup right now, which means that in my heart and in my head, I’m living through a death and an addiction at the same time.
A death because, suddenly and probably forever, I lost someone and something that meant the world to me. I lost a partner, a friend and somebody who knew all my shit and loved me anyway.
I also lost an idea that meant the world to me. I lost the dream I had for the relationship – the future I had started to imagine, the understanding of my past as I had rewritten it, and the shared world we inhabited together as we each made our way through our own.
It’s an addiction because every habit triggers an urge I have to resist, and so do the moments of emptiness in between. When I have a thought I want to share, I can’t share it with her. When I feel misunderstood, I have to turn to someone else to understand me.
When I look at my phone, log onto Facebook, see an event we planned on my calendar, hear a song, eat that candy bar, brush my teeth and get ready for bed, I have to tell myself — no, no, no, you can’t call her.
In so few things does doing what’s right feel so horrible. It’s unnatural the things we do in love.
We let one dream get so big that it crowds out the others. Then we have to kill that dream to make room for another one.
We lean so hard on the one relationship in our lives that’s most likely to fail. After all, we can have as many friends and family members as we want. But the romances that don’t end in marriage all have to end. And half of marriages end anyway.
If it were any other system, we would call it broken, judging by the results. It leads to so many broken promises.
But frankly, I don’t care whether the system is broken. All I care about is whether I can make it work – inside or outside the system, over, under or around it.
I thought I figured out how to make it work, and I almost did. And yet almost may be the worst outcome of all. Because when it almost works, you think there must be a way to make it actually work.
But then I hear Mark Twain. He understood how far we have left to travel when we reach almost.
“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightening and a lightening bug.”
So too with relationships. This last mile may be the longest, the one that separates right from almost right. Longer than all of the others combined.
***
A personal note: Normally, I send new blog posts to email and RSS subscribers first, a day before they appear on the blog. But not with this one. This post was scary enough to publish, knowing not only that it would be read now, but also that Google never forgets what it finds. So I’d rather not spend today thinking about whether to change my mind.
(02.06.10 @ 4:30pm EST)
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