Monday, April 13, 2009

Nora Day #21 It Has Been Raining All Day

      I listen to a song that a boy once wrote for me when he was in love with me. It takes me back to the place I was when I first moved to Chicago, itching to get back to Europe and overflowing with so many things to do and write about. A lot of these things included the boy who wrote the song.
      I play in this corner of my mind for a bit, replaying walks along the beach in early September holding hands and opening our pasts, filling the seats on the el obviously built for two, our knees knocking against one another. A siren wails outside below my window on the twelfth floor, a sound that normally goes without me noticing. This time it's smooth pitch curls around my shoulder's and twirls me back into today. And I am thankful.
      This past year has shown me that no matter what happens, I will always come out on the other end just fine. I might gather some battle wounds along the way, like a broken heart, and I might do some things I am not proud of, like kicking my boyfriends car several times after I caught him cheating on me (I had heels on), but somehow, I am always able to look back in hindsight and think to myself, shit, I am so far away from all of that now. The human mind and body always knows how to adapt...if we let it.
      But sometimes I wonder about the validity of these adjustments (did you really think I was going to leave this one alone?) I agree, time heals all wounds....but, I wonder if this is because you get over it, or if it is just because you get space from it, you find other things or people to occupy your time and it becomes easier to forget. Pretty soon, all of the things you once associated with that person or thing lose their original connection. You can listen to Jewel's "You Were Meant For Me" without sniffling. You can smell Christmas without wishing they were there to pose with you for a photo beside your parents' tree.
      But how over it do we really get? As we walk the path of life do we work our way through these roadblocks of sadness, loss and hurt, or do we just trail blaze our own detours around them?
      I am not suggesting that we be reminded of the ugly parts of our past every day, or that we be faced with those devastating emotions every morning upon waking up...life is too short to be spent in yesterday. But then, how do we tell the difference between growth and just space?

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