Itâ€™s interesting to think about how we make people who used to be everything into nothing again. How we learn to forget. How we force forgetting. What we put in place of them in the interim. The dynamics afterward always tell you more than what the relationship did â€“ grief is a faster teacher than joy â€“ but what does it mean when you cycle out to being strangers again? You never really stop knowing each other in that way. Maybe thereâ€™s no choice but to make them someone different in your mind, not the person who knew your daily anxieties and what you looked like naked and what made you cry and how much you loved them.
Do you ever really forget your loversâ€™ birthdays, or all your first times, intimate and not? Do your anniversaries ever become normal days of the year again? Are the things you did and promises you made ever really neutralized? Do they become void now that youâ€™re broken up or do you decidedly ignore them because thereâ€™s simply no other choice? The mind tells you to go on, and forces your heart to follow suit I guess.
I want to believe that you either love someone, in some way, forever, or you never really loved them at all. That once two reactive chemicals cross both are changed. That the wounds we leave in people are sometimes too raw to risk falling back into them. I donâ€™t want to believe that we write each other off because we simply donâ€™t matter anymore. I know love isnâ€™t expendable. I wonder, and maybe hope, if we ever just force it to be out of necessity.
Maybe itâ€™s just that weâ€™re all at the centers of our own little universes, and sometimes they overlap with other peopleâ€™s, and that small bit of intersection leaves some part of it changed. The collision can wreck us, change us, shift us. Sometimes we merge into one, and other times we rescind because the comfort of losing what we thought we knew wins out.
Either way, itâ€™s inevitable that you expand. That youâ€™re left knowing that much more about love and what it can do, and the pain that only a hole in your heart and space in your bed and emptiness in the next chair over can bring. Whether or not that hole will ever again include the person who made it that wayâ€¦ I donâ€™t know. Whether or not anybody else can match the outline of someone who was so deeply impressed in youâ€¦ I donâ€™t know that either.
We all start as strangers. The choices we make in terms of love are usually ones that seem inevitable anyway. We find people irrationally compelling. We find souls made of the same stuff ours are. We find classmates and partners and neighbors and family friends and cousins and sisters and our lives intersect in a way that makes them feel like they couldnâ€™t have ever been separate. And this is lovely. But the ease and access isnâ€™t what we crave. It isnâ€™t what Iâ€™m writing about right now. It isnâ€™t what we revolve around after itâ€™s gone. We are all just waiting for another universe to collide with ours, to change what we canâ€™t ourselves. Itâ€™s interesting how we realize the storm returns to calm, but we see the stars differently now, and we donâ€™t know, and we canâ€™t choose, whose wreckage can do that for us.
We all start as strangers, but we forget that we rarely choose who ends up a stranger too !!