tears dry on their own

I remember when I first moved to London. A sea of emotions suddenly washed over me and I realised that this was not the normal me talking, thinking, racing through highs and lows at warp speed. I went to my doctor and after some pills to settle my raging hormones I resumed normality and never really thought about it again until lately.

Being a woman is not easy. Is it not enough that we have to deal with men, that our own bodies wage war on our minds as well? I personally have decided that being natural is not for me. Give me drugs, give me whatever generic material you have available behind your counter, anything that will make me feel like my normal stable self again and not some raging lunatic who should be placed under psychiatric surveillance.

And yes, in the light of day I know that everything has a trigger and yes I am just a girl who has a man who is holding the gun. I hear what you are saying and in part you are right. No-one stays up all night crying herself to sleep just due to hormones. Depression may be a good word as I feel my body being pressed into the ground, the life draining out of me and a wave of exhaustion clouds my head and I have no energy to feel anything else around me. But then I do have the strange highs. The moments of laughter, of jumping around the office acting the clown.

The truth is I am broken. So is this any different from last time around? In someways not. But this time my heart has truly been broken. Did it really take me 4 months to figure this out? No. But it has taken me this long to truly admit it to myself. So what now?

They I say I should move on, meet someone new, close the book and find another page turner. I have tried to move on. But my heart says, “No no no.”And when your hearts wants what it wants then seriously what is the point. I guess the point is that if they don’t want you back then at some stage you have to make the choice of either turning your life around and moving onwards through the door to something else, or otherwise remaining in the limbo of hoping they will change their mind. Or there is the other option of giving up completely.

I feel like I have been in limbo for so long that I have no idea which direction I am even facing to find my way out. So if it seems like I have been sitting still, well I guess I have been. I mean didn’t Pooh Bear advise that when lost to stay put until someone finds you? So I guess I have been waiting for someone to come find me, with the hope that that someone would be him.

And why would I live in that hope? I guess every time he has said he loves me I die a little more. And every time he tells me I am beautiful I become more confused. Whenever he makes me feel like the most important person in his world my heart breaks some more and yet when he is not there I feel desperately alone.

Where is the exit? Some say I have to lock him out and then the exit light will become clear, but I cannot. I pick fights and push him in away in the hope he may walk away himself and at times he has come close, but somehow we cannot let go. I say we, because in this two way thing, he holds me there as well.

In the meantime… I wish on every eyelash, every shooting star. I pray for the day that he comes to his senses to come soon. I get dressed, go out, attempt to move on… and I wake up alone.

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About channahboo

I was once a Yorkshire lass, I guess I still am, but after moving to London and then on to Tel Aviv, New York and then back to Tel Aviv again, I wonder how much of the Yorkshire lass is left. The adventure continues and although many see my life as an extended episode of Seinfeld (you are free to laugh), I can also empathise with the Buddhist thought of life as our punishment. I guess the important part is the love that you carry with you through life’s journey and my back often feels the joyous strain of the weight of the love I carry.
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