Something happened that reminded me of breaking up with a guy many years ago. When he came over to get his stuff I made sure I was not there, which was almost impossible because I loved the drama of engaging. But I kept away. He brought over my stuff but did not bring my Ramones frisbee. I took that to mean that he too loved the drama of engaging (which might also mean he loved me?), but who knows. Anyway, I really wanted that Frisbee. It was so cool to me at the time, but I let it go. I can still feel the excruciating pangs of addiction withdrawal. Right before we formally broke up, it was already over and he was leaving me on the street and I grabbed onto the back of his bike and screamed, “Don’t leave me!” I wish I had a film of that but I can still see it in my mind.
It is so easy to write about such a potentially embarrassing experience for two reasons. One reason, a favorite of mine, is it is really funny to me now because “Comedy = tragedy + time.”
The other reason is that none of the dramatic stuff going on is ever about the person it is directed at. It is all about a core issue, the core wound. My abandonment happened long before I ever even met him. He was just a teacher, a facilitator on my journey. Corny but oh so true. Thanks, mac. We are actually warm acquaintances these days. Peace on earth, brothers and sisters.
Ahh, an excuse to post one of the great heartbreak songs....my favorite kind