On Parting
• Our relationship
During the last couple of weeks of my visit my return date loomed over the horizon in my mind like a huge black wall which could easily cast a shadow everywhere if I let it. I’d decided I was going to aim to take it in a fairly stoic way, for various reasons, but for the last week I was fighting and the last couple of days proved to be too much.
I actually never knew I could feel this much sadness. It really felt like virgin emotional territory. But now matter how much I cry, I still find it helps. And because I know of a different kind of sadness, a sicker one, where you cannot cry, I am happy at least to be me and have the ability to have experiences and feel properly. (Anyone who has been on a long battle to be or discover themselves may know what I mean here)
Richard ended up being mostly the rock again, though I knew he was also suffering quietly. Not in the good way, either. But on the penultimate night we played (I wrote about this in the previous entry) very intensely.
The last night was the worst. I literally didn’t know what to do with myself - so much time was spent crying into pet.
The modern remake of “Attack of the 50ft Woman” was the only DVD we hadn’t watched. I didn’t particularly want to watch it, and it was overall very lame, but after a while it seemed appropriate. I felt like I could relate to Nancy what with the way she was being bullied at home, but became empowered and eventually rose above it (literally). A transsexual woman is a bit like a giantess in that as she transforms she becomes beautiful but threatening, causing some people to feel intimidated and making them hostile.
After the film I tried to sleep. I didn’t get much, a couple of hours, even though I felt exhausted from the emotional strain. The next day was hectic. I couldn’t find my credit card at the last minute, so I had to run to the ATM over the road. Saying goodbye was almost impossible because my voice would disintegrate after the first syllable… But we had been saying it in one way or another for hours. Going through the airport I got 50% “ma’am”s and 50% “sir”s. By the time I was on the first plane I’d calmed down a bit, and started to focus on the positive again.
When I arrived in London the experience was like being born over again. The 1 hour coach journey out of Heathrow was beautiful. Massive architecture, streams, hills and fields passed me by under dramatic, sunny and stormy weather whilst I listened to the songs on my mp3 player that I often played after playing with pet. Good memories.
When I met my parents I felt that I was truly a different person. It was the most peculiar feeling. The person who left was a fraction of the person who arrived. In fact, everything seemed different. My parents had decorated my room and my bed soft and made (thank goodness for mums!). Before long I fell into a long blissful sleep.
Comments
I felt terribly helpless: you so sad and there no magic I could work to make you happy.
But I am happy that while you are away from me that you are feeling so creative and writing new music. I’m so lucky to have someone talented, lovely, sweet and very mean :)
Posted by: Richard | July 22, 2007 10:39 PM