in keeping with
my much younger
polar personality,
relationships gone awry were
usually handled with an internal conflict.
instead of being disheveled and unkempt while nursing a heartache, i would wear my funkiest clothes (from an arsenal of about four outfits total, shared ones included).
with stage make-up on, my smile painfully wider than normal.
my voice, a tone higher.
my laugh, a decibel louder.
even my break up song 's beat belied my true feelings.
that hardly seems acceptable in today's
psycho-babbling world of allowing one's self
time to mourn.
i attended a funeral service last saturday.
it was for a 49 yr. old man who died of a heart attack.
no warning. no elaborate goodbyes to his wife of 12 years.
as many people cried, she did not.
she looked peaceful, almost happy.
i recognized my old self in her (or my younger self)
and as i hugged jerianne, i was speechless.
the lump in my throat prevented me from speaking.
perhaps she was setting aside her grief,
willing herself to deal with it when able.
sounds familiar.