I heard a song this am, one I haven’t heard in a while and one I used to be able to play on guitar. I used to listen to this song and this type of music after I broke up with my ex-fiancé DJ. At the time, I was so broken hearted I couldn’t fathom being any sadder. I struggled a lot with suicidal ideation, self-harm, and knowing my identity; I obviously still struggle with all that. And as I listened to the song, it hit me, hard. I’m actually even sadder, more in pain, than I was back then. I walk around like things are fine, but when I’m by myself it comes in breathtaking waves. I didn’t know I could feel this way; that the well of grief was this fucking deep. How the hell does humanity endure this shit all the god-damned time and just not self-destruct? Then again, maybe we are, it’s just so slow no one can tell.
It actually reminds me of something else, maybe this is it. Almost all of my female friends have kids and every single one of them has privately imparted to me that after their baby was born, they felt a different kind of love, one so deep they had no idea they could feel that way about anything. Some of my friends told me this with tears in their eyes. It’s such a beautiful sentiment and makes me genuinely happy for them. I don’t think knowing that kind of expansive love is in the cards for me (that’s okay). I’m just amazed at the capacity, the sheer enormity, of human emotion. It’s ethereal, sublime, clearly divine, and in that way, it’s eternal.
Maybe I’ll pick up guitar again.