How I got my groove back (from a most unexpected source)


“I am at your gate” came the familiar message. By the time Sailor walks in, as he has every day for the past 5 days, I am ready with our wine.

Since Thursday, when we both realized that it was over, he has been here every day. Like a trooper, facing the storm – and it has been a storm, an emotional one that is – he came every day. “Cheers to my easiest break-up ever” I said at some point during the week and he concurred.  It has been painful and agonizing, but as far as the battle goes, it has been… so very grown-up.

There was no screaming or cursing or accusations. There was no fighting or throwing of things or hurtful words that could never be taken back.  There was no retaliation or revenge.  It was all so very grown-up.

We’ve probably talked more in the past 5 days than in all our time spent together. We got to know parts of the other’s soul that were guarded before behind emotion we couldn’t dare share.  We talked and laughed and we both cried.  He patiently and quietly sat there allowing my acute verbal diarrhoea to wash over and through him.  He listened when he needed to and talked we I had nothing left to say.  He never angered at me ignoring his alternative point of view.  He highlighted points I made that got him thinking.  He absorbed my questions like a dishtowel, even when they came flooding from all directions and contradicted each other.  He held me when I needed to be near him and sat far away when he instinctively knew touching me would be the worst thing to do.  He never once raised his voice or got tired of it all.  He simply sat there and took it all in until I ran out of steam, day after day after day.  Until this afternoon…

I was midway through a tirade, a passionate philosophical purging of fears, shoving the road map of past relationships (the one I made last night) across the floor trying to make him see things the way that I was seeing it. Trying to make him understand the point of hopelessness I had reached and that none of it makes any sense and it would be irrational to even consider the idea of another relationship somewhere in the future with some sap who knew nothing about the carnage that represents my past relationships and what’s the point of it all then?

“Stop” – his voice came, barely audible over my own, but it had such finality to it that it stopped me mid-sentence. “You are not looking for reasons.  You are looking for a reason to blame yourself for everything that has gone wrong in every relationship you have had.  If you keep looking, you will find a reason to blame yourself.  You will find many reasons.  But it still won’t be true.”  Those big blue eyes reached into the deepest, darkest corner of my soul “You did nothing wrong.”

And with that it was over. My tears dried up.  My mind came to a quiet halt.  The dark and broody storm that was my soul came through the eye of the storm and there was nothing but calm, clear water ahead.  I reached a “Blue Skies and Sunshine” moment.

I didn’t realize it for what it was at the time, but that was when my soul knew it would be OK.

He stayed a while longer, we talked and laughed and exchanged stories and shared a drink or three and then talked some more. He left with a hug and a kiss and “see you tomorrow”.  I closed the door behind him and for the first time since Thursday, I did not crumble to the floor as his car pulled away.  The sobs didn’t come.  The sorrow stayed away.  I simply turned around and smiled – really smiled – for the first time in days.

I’m not naïve. I know that it this calm acceptance is not the last of it.  I know that Depression and Loneliness will rear their ugly heads and Self-Doubt will soon follow trying to smear its ugly black inky ideas through every corner of my brain.  I know I will still have moments of sadness and a question every now and then.  I know that next time around (and there will be a next time around) Fear will come right along and try to take me off course. (In sheer rebellious defiance of all these mongrels I am sitting here in a dead quiet pitch dark house, all by myself, and I am able to smile)

But for now, I got my groove back.

The reason of my undoing became my voice of reason.

Cheers Sailor!

Taking Resume’s Now


So, I’ve found the (so-claimed) equivalent of NZT 48. Only problem it’s on the Internet, in America.  Now I’ve just got to find a doctor over here willing to give me some…

Seriously, I need something to gain some clarity.

A supposed “feel-good” movie last night opened a fresh Pandora’s box of wailing and sobbing and question upon question and that ridiculous monotone neon-light that keeps flashing “Alone, Alone, Alone” in front of my eyes every time I blink or pause to breathe. By 3 o’clock I was exhausted and reached for my Smartie Box with an assortment of medication.  By 4 o’clock it was one Trepiline, one Ponstan pain-killer and two strong G&T’s later, but my brain was still running at a million miles an hour thoughts and ideas spilling out of me and Mission Self-Destruct going at full force.  I’ve not slept yet…

My lounge floor this morning resembles a kindergarten art fair with endless list upon list highlighting and colouring the road map of all my past relationships. I’ve got it narrowed down to three categories:

The lost cases

The WTF went wrong cases and

The ever elusive case that is me

I’m none the wiser and it still makes no sense.

I need some real answers. I’m not talking about any Freudian Ghandi mambo jumbo that leaves you more confused than when you started, intent on making you think things through and see it from a different perspective.

I’m plenty confused and I am soooooooooooooooooooooo over thinking and trying to see it from a different perspective.

I need some Elizabeth Gilbert kind of insight into this situation. Unfortunately not all of us have the luxury or packing it all up and travelling for a year to find the answers.  We have to work and keep it all together for the sake of our children, for the sake of our family who fret and worry about our state of mind.  We have bills and responsibilities and things that need to get done.  If I could go, where would I go?  Spain for its passion and siestas, Israel (if God won’t come to me and answer my sobbing prayers, I will go there and find Him) and lastly Peru, don’t ask me why, I don’t know, there is just something about that place that draws me like a magnet.

Someone told me that I should really stop trying to understand, because I never will. It was said in that quiet Ghandi like tone resembling an ancient Chinese profit saying something stupid like “The eagle flaps it’s wings to soar not to float” and in my mind I could actually see the smoke the drifting up for his pipe disappearing into thin air..  It made me want to puke.

There is one little fact that I have to face and all my questions resound around that. I’ll give a lifetime of servitude to the person who can answer that.

I don’t want to know why this happened to me. I don’t want to know how many times I will have to go through this.  I don’t want to know if there is a happy ever after for me.

What did I do wrong?

It’s such a simple little question. You see, for me it is as clear-cut as this.  I am the common denominator in all of this.  You can only fail at love so many times before you have to stop and start looking for the pattern.  Establish the pattern and break away from that.  But that is where I get stuck.

I have the lost cases, which I now (with the help of crayons and highlighters) can recognize as being doomed from the start.

I have the WTF went wrong cases, which is exactly that: WTF?!

I have me

So I we take the lost cases out of the equation we are left with the WTF’s and me. The WTF’s tells me I did nothing wrong and I am amazing and bla-bla-bla.  But then WTF went wrong, so we are left with ME!

You see, if I cannot figure out where I went wrong, how could I even consider going into another relationship and give my all and try to do it right and attempt to trust and give my already battered and bruised and stitched up second-hand heart away again? That would just be a suicidal, irresponsible and downright stupid thing to do.

Yet, on the other hand, I am most definitely not ready to settle for the idea that I will grow old alone with a dog by my feet and the leaves dancing in the wind as I stare into the distance with hollow eyes that can cry no more. Honestly, shoot me please.  Wait, hand me a gun I’ll do it myself.

So I’m back to NZT 48 or the human equivalent in the form of a Guru / Mentor / Wise Ass with real answers.  Any takers for the job?