Only love,
Can bring the rain,
That makes you yearn to the sky.
Only love,
Can bring the rain,
That falls like tears from on high.

Love, Reign o’er me.
Love, Reign o’er me, on me.

-The Who

I caught the last 40 minutes of this movie last night.

It actually just happened to be on when I turned on the TV but I found myself drawn from the other room by the dialogue.  I was just killing time before dinner but it was so emotional, I couldn’t tear myself away. 

It’s about man who loses his entire family… his world, on 9/11 and his struggle with incapacitating grief.   Surprisingly, I found Adam Sandler’s performance in this dramatic role compelling.  Maybe it’s because I associate myself with NY and it is difficult to not be touched by the tragedy, or maybe it is because I feel rather close to someone who is going through some serious grieving at the moment, but… it really touched me.  Everytime he got anywhere near a discussion of the past, he would throw on his headphones and blare this song in an effort to block out the world.  To escape.  It may not sound like it but, It was heartbreaking.  It also reminded me that no matter how big my problems are (or seem to be), there are people out there suffering so much more.  Something that I try to remember but often forget.  It’s one of the things I am working on — my perspective, my self centered nature.  You wouldn’t know it based on my behavior.

It also got me thinking about how the thing that is most frightening about love is the risk involved… and how difficult it is to care, nevermind love,  once you have suffered the loss of someone you truly love and cherish.  How much risk can one person take?

Change your heart
Look around you
Change your heart
It will astound you
I need your lovin’
Like the sunshine

Everybody’s gotta learn sometime
Everybody’s gotta learn sometime
Everybody’s gotta learn sometime

-Beck

Too tired to think, nevermind write.  Busy month at work combined with sleepless nights and a girl who doesn’t know how to stop after 3 beers puts me at about half past braindead.

But, this is an honest to god favorite.  Song and film.  And I’ve been listening to it alot lately.  

There are so many memories and moments compiled in my mind but lately I got tired of playing the same ones over and over and reached further back.   And thought about the summer we met.  I remember the first voicemail I ever got from him — wanting to confirm plans for that evening and asking if I’d assigned him a special ringtone yet… because that is the silly kind of thing I do.  He already knew me even though he didn’t know me. I remember sitting on the lawn at Catholic, enjoying the day, looking forward to the evening and playing the message for my friends. 

Because, I really liked him.  

He would drive that really cool yellow truck and we would sit on a bench, look up at the stars and talk and I’d decide I wasn’t going to give up on this one, even if I was moving halfway around the world in 3 weeks.

While there are a few things I’d rather forget….those moments are easily outnumbered.

I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I’ll be alright
Perhaps it’s just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away.

-Colin Hay

Keep it Simple Stupid.  The Most Obvious Explanation is Usually Correct One. 

It is phrases like these that I need to remember (and rely on) more often.

Lately, I’ve had trouble sleeping.  Last night was no exception.  I’ve been working crazy hours and my personal life is in shambles.  My brain is on overdrive.

Naturally, this would be the ideal time for him to contact me and apologize for not responding to any of my emails/calls/texts and to ask if we could be friends, right? 

Right.

I know why he did it.  He was out drinking.  With a buddy who I have reason to believe thinks I’m a “good girl.”  My name came up.  He got nostalgic, started to feel guilty about not responding to me because he knows I’m a “good girl.”  He’s lonely.  Possibly bored.   He still cares but not in a way that allows us to move forward — not enough.  He wants to make himself feel better, confirm that I don’t hate him and remind me that he does care.  It’s entirely selfish.   It doesn’t mean anything.  We are in the same place we were yesterday. 

I know this because I’ve done it myself.

So, why can’t I stop thinking about it?

Oh I do believe
In all the things you say
What comes is better than what came before

And you’d better come come, come come to me
Better come come, come come to me
Better run, run run, run run to me
Better come
-Cat Power

M introduced me to this song this weekend.  What a wonderful, sad song that rolls over you like a wave.  I also rediscovered Cat Power.  Awesome.  

I know what comes is better than before, I am just impatient and tired of being sad.  My sister says I should take a page from Reese Witherspoon.  You laugh, but that Jake Gyllenhaal is pretty damn hot.

Walking back to you

Is the hardest thing that

I can do

That I can do for you

 

-The Jesus & Mary Chain

 

I’ve recently reconnected with an old friend.  And by old, I don’t mean that he is…just that we are both much older than when we met about 15 years ago.

 

This guy, let’s call him M, has also experienced a major breakup in the not too distant past.  I don’t know too many of the details, I just know that he is a good listener, very supportive and has been really good at helping me see the forest from the trees (or however that saying goes).  He has been there, done that… the sleepless nights, the depressive thoughts, the calling, the emailing, the text messaging.  

 

Oh, the text messaging. 

 

For some reason, I can’t stop from indulging myself in these one liner texts to the ex in an attempt to remind him of me, of us, or something. He has never (yes, that’s right, never) responded. I lose a another scrap of whatever little dignity I have left every time he looks at his phone, sighs, and hits delete.  It’s pathetic.  What is worse is I think I go a little more insane every time he doesn’t respond.  At this point M shared some words of wisdom that were so accurate, it hurt.

 

1. No response is a response.

2. He was the greatest love of your life, so far.

 

Someone needs to tattoo this on my forearm. 

 

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.

-Coldplay

 

 

My Mom seems to think that one thing that contributes to my failed relationships is my tendency to find these guys who have something sad and broken inside of them that sets off my subconscious need to help, support, fix.  It seems to be my way of loving someone.  First off, let me say that my Mom and I get along very well and this is entirely constructive advice.   Her unfailing faith in me is astounding, especially when viewed out from within the eyes of a depressed soul. 

Regardless, the evidence is clear.  I suppose everyone experiences some tragedy in their life but I choose those that have it bad and can’t let it go.  Take my high school boyfriend for example, abandoned at a very young age by a mother who didn’t want him but sporadically took him back into her life at her whim and made him feel loved… for a day here or there.  She is still in his life and it continues to pervade every relationship he has today.  Or, my ex-fiancé, who to the naked eye had no “issues,” only to find that the things he was keeping were so deeply buried and so awful that I wouldn’t even feel comfortable putting it to paper.  I didn’t know it until the bitter end but, I wonder if some part of me sensed it.  I’ve dated a guy who witnessed his mother get shot at age 6, another whose brother was killed in car accident at age 14, which he miraculously survived, and finally, one who was physically abused by his father until he got too big to stand up for himself (age 16).   The latest, and the one I consider the greatest love of my life…even at age 37, the hits just keep on coming.  It’s almost as if god is testing him.

So, this morning, when I was wishing that someone would come into my life and just “fix me”… make the sun sunnier and the sky bluer, I remembered the trick of it all. 

Nobody can fix anyone else.  We have to do that all on our own.

Don’t let the walls

Cave in on you

We can’t live on, live on without you

Don’t let the walls

Cave in on you

You get what you give

That much is true

Don’t let the walls

Cave in on you

You turned the world away

From you

 

Where’s your head at?

Where’s your head at?

 

-Basement Jaxx

 

Good question.

 

My distraction lately has been palpable.  Compound that with the fact that my attention to detail has always been somewhat limited and old age is setting in (I swear!), and it seems like I can’t remember to do anything.   Worse yet, my socialization skills (which were already suffering) are on the decline.   In fact, it is so bad that I’ve become a “case in point.”

 

Random Guy at Work: You’re so out of it lately! It’s getting pretty bad. 

 

Me: No, I’m not, I’m right here - totally functioning.  See?  (waves papers around)

 

Guy: Uh, no, you’re not — case in point, Zola, last Thursday.  You could barely carry on a conversation, you spent the whole night staring out the window in a daze. You used to love happy hour.

 

Internal Dialouge: Zola? Last Thursday?  Was I there, was he?  Oooh yeah.  Both Nick and Lauren emailed me as I walked home asking if I was “ok”?  Hmmm…

 

Me: And?

 

Guy: Forget it.

 

For the record, I think this guy is genuinely trying to be nice and cheer me up, not point out my flaws.  But, he barely knows me and knows my head is out of the game.

 

And this (among a proliferation of reasons that I’m sure I will detail later) is why I decided to make an appointment with the head doctor….

 

cried all night till there was nothin more
what use am i as a heap on the floor
heaving devotion but its just no good
taking it hard just like you knew i would

oh old habits die hard when you got, when you got a sentimental heart
piece of the puzzle and you’re my missing part
oh what can you do with a sentimental heart?

-She & Him

 

Walking home from work last night.  I glance down the street, towards his office because he still only works one block from my apartment.  It has become a daily ritual.  I remember when I would be practically dancing home, eagerly anticipating his smiling face and flip flop shuffle greeting me on that very same block to go eat dinner, have a drink, or maybe just a nap.  

But this time, for the first time in 2 months, I see him standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change… and am struck by the urge to run to him.  I remind myself that he doesn’t want to talk to me.  He probably wishes he never met me. I look away.  I look again just to check, just make sure it is really him.  It is.  He sees me and looks away.  I notice he is carrying his “overnight” bag.  I blink back the tears and cross the street.

Sure as I’m breathing
Sure as I’m sad
I’ll keep this wisdom
In my flesh

I leave here believing
More than I had
This Love has got
No Ceiling

-Eddie Vedder

Lately, I listen to my ipod during my walk to work everyday.  Some people despise this idea, as if music steals the purity of the City.  I’ll admit that sometimes I’m inclined to agree but I almost always feel that music enhances any activity.

Music has always been an extremely important outlet for me.  I’m always on the quest to find the perfect song with the perfect lyrics to describe the raw emotions that I have difficulty putting into words.  Other times, I’m looking for the music to accessorize the moment.  Luckily for me, there are multitudes of these songs - old favorites, new finds and everything in between.   I am ridiculously envious of the talent of a musical genius but so grateful for their existence that allows me this channel.   For example, Head Like a Hole when I’m angry, Don’t Cry when I’m hopeless… and so on and so forth.

Not too long ago, someone that I consider to be one of the greatest people I’ve ever met, someone who played a intregal role in making me who I am today, the person I loved to love with my entire being. . . walked out of my life. 

Permanently. 

It has been one of the most profound losses I’ve ever experienced.   A few months later I can see that I’ve been like a hamster in a wheel that is going nowhere, thinking I might somehow get there.  I tried sobbing, getting out of town, meeting new people, drinking too much, not drinking at all, working around the clock… and,  I’m not even close. 

But I think I’ve accepted that.  This is going to take much longer than I had hoped.  

This love has got no ceiling.

I came across this draft post when re-visiting my blog today (inspired by a certain someone).  Even though I drafted this nearly one year ago, it still holds as true as ever.  While the first sentence is spot on — I am beginning to question the analysis.  The responsibility is mine alone – why can’t I walk away when I need to?  And why do I persist on bringing people back into my life that have failed me in one way or another and continue push away the tremendous number of supportive influences in my life?  I’m not giving someone a second chance, I’m failing myself in some critical way.  Am I the person who enjoys being miserable? 

Something here doesn’t make sense.  I’m going to work on figuring it out.

I am the champion of second chances.  Probably to a fault (read: second is actually third, fourth, tenth, etc).  

I’m not sure if this is due to (1)  being of the female persuasion (2) an eternal optimism or (3) persistence and failure to admit defeat.  I have a feeling it is a combination of all three.