An Urban Simpleton

Time flies when your heart is bleeding. Hours and days blend into each other seamlessly, all you hear is the pulsing ache etched under your skin. I guess coughing to death doesn’t help either. Time caught in a haze of cold medication and ashy skin.

I said once to a good friend, when the breakup was even fresher, that my circumstance had shockingly made me more idealistic than jaded. I believed, so fervently, that love could fix everything. I believed that if he loved me enough, we would strip ourselves bare for each other, start afresh, and grow. But it’s been over a week, and already I am starting to feel and think differently, that things will never change and it is only foolish to look back.

But of course, who would I be if I didn’t indulge in this masochism, even for a little bit.

I am back at his apartment, wearing his PJs, listening to the same sad Robyn song on repeat. There is no doubt that I love him, that I still crave his warm body next to mine as I sleep, that sometimes I think I can smell him on my own clothes. It still hurts every time I breathe, and shake off my denial, but I am starting to feel myself let go. Perhaps he is lucky enough not to go through the routine heartbreak and move on, which probably explains this afternoon's chill.

Now I long for recovery and healing, a sense of permanence I need to find within myself. I guess those self-help books were right – build up your self esteem and sense of self so no one can take anything away. Nonetheless, why would I heed intelligent and rational advice when I can play the fool and remain sitting here, writing this, waiting for some sort of answer from him, that may allow me to take another step.

Despite my loud convictions of independence, and ridiculous impulsive behaviour that I thought could protect their integrity, I am in fact a meek, insecure dreamer who relies heavily on the concept of “love” to be my “salvation”. At this point, I see some of the benefits of religion. An omnipresent guide whose rules you cannot bend (manipulate – yes, interpret – yes , but that is for another discussion). This guide prevents you from forming an equally deep attachment to anything tangible or physical – your body is your temple, literally. An earthly being or opportunity could say no to you, but you will always have yourself – and God. The ultimate safety net.

Tonight, I have only myself, waiting.

Waiting to expose my still bleeding heart to possible danger.