December 12, 2012

Why couldn’t she cry? She needed to cry, to release the tension by letting go, yet she couldn’t. She used to cry at the drop of a hat but now she’d nearly cry at even seeing a hat, but then the tears that had begun to swim in her eyes would dry up and with a final sigh she would compulsively swallow her sob and all that was left was the tight yet strangely empty feeling in her chest and her dry dry eyes. If she cried she would have to admit it was all over and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Perhaps the reason she couldn’t grieve was that he never said it was over, he just became more and more distant until he to all intents and purposes disappeared! There were no arguments just a string of excuses. He called to say “I’m busy, I miss you”. he called and said “I’m ill, can’t wait to meet up when I’m better”. She called and he said “I’m stressed, I’m so sorry”. She called and he said “I’m going away, I’m sorry”. She text and he replied “I’m really busy at work, sorry”. She waited for him to make the effort but that never came, yet she still waited, waited until she felt that she was left with nothing and that nothing hurt, that nothing ate at her confidence and her self esteem. The nothing said it was all lies, the kind words, the affection, the laughter all of it lies. The nothing seemed to mock her, the nothing engulfed and consumed her.

Relationships in the past, for her at least had been based initially on sexual attraction and everything else had wrapped itself around that spark and that spark had kept several relationships going far longer than they should have before being snuffed out completely by her, or by him. Those endings had always been for-shadowed in some way however and the end expected and embraced. But this had been different, a long friendship that had slowly heated eventually igniting to a warm comforting glow. To her it had seemed like a well made fire that even though burning hot was made to last. But he had walked away forgetting to tend the friendship let alone the fire, it was as though it were unimportant… nothing, and now she felt so cold and alone.

Nothing has no essence, it isn’t loved or missed or wanted, nothing isn’t what we need it’s what we all avoid and ignore. If you are nothing then maybe you don’t have to love or want or need, maybe you can ignore all this, and she tried, she tried to feel nothing if she couldn’t grieve maybe she could sidestep grief instead by ignoring it? She had those moments everyday though when something betrayed her and the grief came bubbling up and she nearly cried and then she longed to sob, to feel tears coursing down her face, but instead acceptance of grief retreated and there was the nothing again. She wondered sometimes if it was anger at being discarded by him that stemmed her tears, but then she stopped caring…sometimes.

She needed to cry, to let go of this feeling, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t, she wasn’t sure which anymore. When she stepped in front of his car and just before he broke her this time with his metal cage at thirty-one miles an hour their eyes locked and she knew in that brief moment before physical pain and death, to him at least she’d never be nothing again, and she sobbed.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Just another WordPress.com site

Caroline Criado-Perez

A Pox on the Patriarchy


Lady things, explained.


"I have long argued that the giving of offence, and even hate speech, should be a moral matter but not a matter for the criminal law. That is as true on the football pitch as on the streets. We should always challenge racism. We should also always challenge attacks on liberties in the guise of faux antiracism." Kenan Malik

%d bloggers like this: