There is a crack in the teacup that is my being. Usually I would berate myself for having any type of an apparent breakdown. I am tough. I am strong. Release doesn’t mean a loss of strength, though, at least not anymore. I like to think of it as allowing the light to flood into your person in order to be able to continue to shine. It is perforations in a black sky to allow the starlight to sparkle in the abyss that is stress, a hard time, grief, loneliness.
Yesterday I went to hot yoga and I was dehydrated after and my body betrayed me but it allowed for complete freedom to just FEEL. Not think about what I was feeling but to just feel. I slept a long time, I slowed down, I rested. Later in the evening I drove to the post office in the slushy snow and I sat in the parking lot and I cried as soon as I heard U2’s “With or without you” playing on the radio. I cried until I laughed and it felt like being born again. It felt like being born into a new phase of truth and honesty within myself; a phase that I desperately needed to enter. Sometimes you just need a good cry in your car while feeling ill and listening to U2.
I talked to my husband this morning and the first thing I told him was that I am dying without him. I am a huge fan of hyperbole and dramatics when I talk to my husband, if only so that I can really affect him and let him know how affected I am by him, by his love, by being away from him, by all the madness that currently exists in our lives. He was his usual encouraging, caring, together self and inspired some stability in me with just his words. It’s in those moments when I can be cured with a few words out of his mouth and sharing a few laughs with him that I truly unravel at the reality of the fight we have ahead of us.
U2 was right: I can’t live….with or without you.