Recently, I decided to destroy the throne I had carefully—sometimes with my conscious awareness, often without— built for romantic love (more on that in my next piece on LBE-Last Breakup Energy). I decided to stop feeding relationships that—when they inevitably end—leave me not just sad or depressed, but genuinely suicidal.
I needed to stop placing myselves on the windowsill (more on that later, too.), this place where rupture happens and pain overwhelms my mind and body, and suddenly—despite all that I’ve done and accomplished, all that I am and becoming—nothing matters; or at least I don’t. I needed to stop placing myselves in places that simply make me want to jump out the window.
I needed to stop repeating that moment of desperate loneliness, as if on the threshold of death, that moment when my personal identity shatters, evaporates, and it seems to me that I no longer exist. What’s more awful than feeling the truth of our inherent loneliness is experiencing it right next to someone we chose who doesn’t choose us.
Today is a very small piece. I am in my bed, it’s Sunday, my favourite day. I was born on a Sunday !
I don’t share my sundays — or any day really — with anyone. And I am so glad I do not. This day is just for me.
Not because I think being partnered with someone is not cute, I can see it, but because I am so glad the people I chose didn’t choose me.
I just want to tell you this story:
One day, a few years back, I chose someone who didn’t choose me.
I remember days passing after they told me and feeling like I was sinking in my own skin, like drowning. At the bottom of my own soul, I could hear those words:
