I couldn't have known that when I became single again last summer I'd be breaking up again and again throughout the year. By that I mean, having to tell people that Mark and I aren't together anymore. It's a bit of an existentialist narrative, perhaps something Camus might have liked to write. At least once a day, I get emails that reference the two of us, reflecting the assumption that we're together, that we'll always be together. I've pretty much learned how to process those. I take a breath; I feel my eyes do a funny thing. Those messages no longer hurt ten months into my new life. But sometimes I'll have to confront those assumptions face-to-face, say, at a public event, a literary event. "How's Mark?" To which I'll have to say: "Oh, we're not together any more." "I'm sorry," the person will inevitably say, with shock and a little regret in the eyes. "How are you doing?" And I'll say, "I'm doing all right, " and say, "and I can say that now, ten months into it, without saying it with a sense of sorrow and shame, which is a good thing, right?" And I'll catch my face sliding into sorrow and shame, and laughing a little to cover it up, to make it easier for the two of us: me, the recipient. There's the slightest urge to take care of the recipient, which strikes me as the wrong reaction, and maybe that's why, in part, I'm writing this down, as I don't want to break up one more time.
***
Anyway: three great things in the last three days.
First thing? I talked at Don DeLillo last night. At a dinner party, in Washington, DC. One of the great moments of my life. I told him how much I loved his short novels, and we talked about Joy Williams's work.
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| My lyric essay workshop out on the town, in Philadelphia, on Wednesday night |
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| Alison Bechdel's sketch of me on a napkin. I saw Alison on Thursday at her reading in Philadelphia. I was going to see her last night in DC, but she needed to get some sleep, so her friends sent me this. :-) |
11 comments:
You are wonderful; may every day bring great things!
Thank you, Laura. You too! xo
Oh, What an awfully difficult passage. One of life's most difficult. As you know, one of the best things to do is listen to LOTS of great music. Especially music that is both cynical enough to be cathartic, and beautiful enough to "heal the soul through the senses," in good ol' Oscar's words (and he knew the need). Music like this song, one of my absolute favorites: http://youtu.be/xFIM33kRMKI
Paul
that you've got to the place where you can call it 'New Life' bespeaks a lot of grace and living both.
my hope is that each day, and this summer ahead will be the experience of a 'new fit': the freedom to dream/speculate/grow-into and imagine new possibilities. that inspite of whatever loss and endings, you'll feel young with possibility.
take the time- you're more than worth it, and a lot of us are better for knowing you're allowing yourself what you need.
Christopher! How did I ever miss Dolly's Silver Dagger? Thank you.
Thank you, David. :-)
Oh. I didn't know. Stopped myself just short of slipping into sorrow. Looks like there'd be no one there but me. Love, light, smooches.
LLS--All that means a lot to me, Patricia. Thank you.
And here's something: I'm actually moving out your way (Asbury Park, close enough)--sometime this summer. We must get together! xo
I agree wholeheartedly with Chris T's comments. Here's an old one that hits the cynicism/beauty balance nearly perfectly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYNJrtNrxiM
A very graceful blog post, Paul. And can I just say I am JEALOUS AS HELL (not my caps for emphasis) that you got to speak with DeLillo. He's one of my literary heroes. Hope to see you soon somewhere in the literary world. x
"Sweet joy befall thee."
xoxo
E
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