When I initially set out to write a blog, my goal was to create sort of a running diary based around the music that captures the moments I was living in. It made sense at the time, and with the way I tend to chronicle musical discoveries, something I put a great deal of thought into anyway. Eventually, I gave up on the idea because...well...let's just say that for a stretch of time there, life was a lot less fun to write about than Nick Cave was. But now that this particular period of my life is over, I think it's time to pick the format back up. I'll still write about my favorite records, songs and provide playlists and album reviews, but I'm going throw posts like these in every now and then.
"I should have known
You'd bid me farewell
There's a lesson to be learned from this
And I've learned it very well"
Apart from love songs, the most important topic in pop music is that of the breakup. The only thing more prevalent than a beating heart is a broken one. Without getting into excessive detail, I had one of the worst breakups of my life last November. I went through all the steps following the end of a major relationship. First came the denial. It was just a phase, I told myself. I'd be taken back after a little break. When that didn't happen, I slipped into that numb sort of shell-shock that all broken hearted people do. The break-up had been so drawn out and so nasty that I couldn't even bring myself to think about another relationship again. For at least a couple of months, I avoided it altogether.
When I finally did get back on my feet, the inevitable instincts presented themselves to me. I almost threw myself into the first rebound fling that presented itself to me. I'd been rejected, and it felt like refusing the only ones who wanted me, no matter what an ill fit they were, was just asking to get abandoned by everyone. But my more rational head prevailed, and I stuck it out, waiting for the right one to come along.
It was a miserable nine months; a time in which I questioned my worth as a person, doubted my ability to be accepted and looked at other people in happy relationships with envy. I was ashamed of my breakup, and I retreated further and further inward. Good friendships passed me by because I was afraid to engage them, being in the state I was. Naturally, this lead to even more isolated feelings and an increasingly miserable sense of self worth.
"Now I know you're not the only starfish in the sea
If I never hear your name again, it's all the same to me
And I think it's gonna be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now
The morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball"
Last week, my patience was rewarded. I finally found "the one". Sure, it always feels like that in the early part of a relationship, but I really feel like this is the one I need right now. It's nurturing, rewarding, and it seems to have a real future in it, for once.
Obviously it's nice to be back with someone again. But there's more to the relief I'm feeling than that. There's a real sense of self-worth that this has allowed me to reclaim again. And it reminds me that maybe the problem wasn't entirely with me, but with my old flame just as much or more. And as the song says, there are other starfish in the sea.
"The story's in the past
There's nothing to recall
I've got my life to life
And I don't need you at all
The roller coaster ride we took is nearly at an end
I bought my ticket with my tears
That's all I'm gonna spend."
But now the good news is in, and life is going to get better. My brother has chosen to call this part of life "The Post-Suck" and even titled his own blog after the idea. As of this posting, life is moving up. I'm about to move to a nice new town, start a nice new job, and I have the most wonderful person standing beside me that I could ask for (if you're reading this, Sam, I love you!). The morning sun is shining, and I feel great!
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