This Sunday, March 23rd would have been, in a happier world, my sixth anniversary with playwright David Johnston. A handful of days later will mark the second anniversary of our breakup. I’ve been taking stock in many ways and thinking on the wisdom and very intended kindness of friends.
A few months after the 2006 breakup, with my health blind sighted and my life in shambles, one of my friends said something that would be echoed by others for months to come: “Every day it will be a little bit better”. While I hoped what she said was right (what, indeed, so many said), I doubted it.
And, as it is, they were right and they were wrong. I think it is a matter of semantics. Better? No. The pain and loss I feel today are no smaller than they were in April of 2006. The only “better” there is would be building some sort of positive relationship with David out of the nothingness we have now. That would be better. What does happen, though, is that coping techniques and survival strategies slip quietly in. I think the word they meant was “easier”. Yes, every day the skills for dealing with the loss and pain become more masterly and working with the emotional realities does become an easier thing in my day.
And as for better? We’ll have to wait and see.
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1 comment:
Oh my darling I only want you to be happy and I want you to love someone who can love you better. There's that word again!
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