This graphic seems especially poignant in some mysterious way I can't quite put a finger on yet. Something is shifting. There is some sort of emotional tectonic plate moving hard against it's adjacent companion and it's buckling and shifting upwards.
It may or may not be connected to the feeling that punched in this morning, when upon walking into the store to get a bucket of shitty coffee, they were playing Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love. That song has never meant anything in my life. I've never spoken to anyone who confessed, hey you know what? I walked into a place this morning and that song Addicted to Love was playing and it was just as good as when it first came on the radio, right after the invention of electricity. Someone must've liked it. It was a hit in constant rotation on the radio and music television. Anyway, it made my stomach feel funny this morning. It gave me a deep sense of uneasiness, again in some mysterious way I can't put a finger on yet.
It's more than the season changing, and it hasn't changed yet, by the way, speaking of yet. It's still summer, officially anyway, if we are to accept the science of astronomy as the ultimate authority on change of seasons. There are almost three more weeks, but it's not that anyway.
It may have something to do with echoes from childhood. Labor Day meant packing up my stuff in brown paper Shop-Rite bags, my matching luggage, and going back home to start school. That meant anticipation. t meant wondering if the coming school year would in fact be different than the previous school year. It meant, to some degree, hoping it would absolutely be different, but not investing too much hope into it. Probably a decreasing amount of hope as years rolled forward. This may certainly be part of it, but my suspicion that however much the current feelings might be informed by the past, this shift in things is about right here and now. Something has already changed and there is more to come.
It may have something to do with summer romance, or not. Sometimes they last longer than the summer. It was around this time a couple years ago that someone said to me, "I have never been so sync with someone. Never in my life. I can't imagine there might ever be a day that you won't be in my life. That I won't talk to you or look forward to seeing you." Those words meant everything to me. I actually exhaled fully for the first time I can remember. I felt at home, despite that it was less than three months later that not seeing me every day was not only imagined but real.
I probably should have given more weight to all the times she insisted that nothing lasts forever because that's just the way that life works. People are born. People die. Romances don't last. Love doesn't last, so why give it any importance? These things were said with enough frequency that it was pretty clear that the season would be declared over prematurely. That the end would be amputated by a calculated calendar date and not by any laws of natural science.
Something has shifted since then though. I can't even tell you how I feel about that now though. It hurt when the shoe dropped... when the axe fell, so to speak. It hurt for months. They say there are stages of grief, but this grief didn't go out in stages. It simply stopped. It was like having a toothache for so long you figure it will always be there but then one day you wake up and it's gone. It simply stopped.
Was the longing merely transferred into affection for another person? That is always an important question. That's the way it works for a lot of people.
"You're gonna have to face it you're addicted to love, oh yeah."
It has happened for me that way in the past, or rather I've let it happen that way. It didn't go down like that this time though. It simply ended. Something else ended as well though and I'm not sure I have words to explain it yet, but something else is gone and it's been replaced by something else. That's really cryptic, right? Apologies. These feelings though are only part of what's going on right now. The plate movement is bigger than all that.
I think I need to go on walk-about and sort that out.