A first for everything. Valentines.

In honor of the first Valentine’s Day I’ll be sharing with only my cat, I shall now present lyrics to just some of the songs I’ve been known to play on repeat as I’ve rolled into a fetal ball over the course of the last 9 months.

Anything in italics is an additional insert by Yours Truly.

Oh, and if you just aren’t into lyrics right now, feel free to scroll. There’s more. (But these are really good songs, yo.)

---

Youtube video: Hate Me

Blue October
Hate Me

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There’s a burning in my pride a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you will you never call again
And will you never say that you loved me just to put it in my face
And will you never try to reach me
It is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

I’m sober now for three (six) whole months
It’s one accomplishment that you (never) helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won’t touch again
In my sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I’ll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your brown eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling, “Make it go away!”
Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then I whispered, “How can you do this to me?”

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

---

Youtube video: Million Years Ago

Adele
Million Years Ago

I only wanted to have fun
Learning to fly learning to run
I let my heart decide the way
When I was young
Deep down I must have always known
That this would be inevitable
To earn my stripes I’d have to pay
And bare my soul

I know I’m not the only one
Who regrets the things they’ve done
Sometimes I just feel it’s only me
Who can’t stand the reflection that they see
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air, I miss my friends
I miss my mother, I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago

When I walk around all of the streets
Where I grew up and found my feet
They can’t look me in the eye
It’s like they’re scared of me
I try to think of things to say
Like a joke or a memory
But they don’t recognize me now
In the light of day

I know I’m not the only one
Who regrets the things they’ve done
Sometimes I just feel it’s only me
Who never became who they thought they’d be
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air, I miss my friends
I miss my mother, I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago
A million years ago

---

Youtube video: You Oughta Know

Alanis Morrisette
You Oughta Know

I want you to know that I am happy for you
I wish nothing but the best for you both
A younger version of me
Is she perverted like me
Would she go down on you in a theater
Does she speak eloquently
And would she have your baby
I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother

Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn’t able to make it enough for you to be open wide
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you’d hold me until you died
Till you died, but you’re still alive

And I’m here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

You seem very well
Things look peaceful
I’m not quite as well
I thought you should know
Did you forget about me, Ms. Duplicity
I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner
It was a slap in the face
How quickly I was replaced
And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?

Cause the joke that you laid in the bed
That was me and I’m not gonna fade as soon as you close your eyes
And every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back I hope you feel it
Well, can you feel it?

So I’m here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

---

Nearly a year of solitary firsts, check.

God, I hope this is the last of the intensely painful stuff, at least for this first year. Fortunately, I don’t anticipate that President’s Day or Easter will be heart-wrecking in the way that Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day have been.

My friend Kim assures me, “you’ll get your own firsts” but it doesn’t really cushion the blow. Don’t get me wrong, because I’m all for having my own firsts with someone special, but I continue to wonder … why is it that Love Bomb is somehow exempt from these feelings of loss, loneliness, and jealousy? My firsts won’t bother her; she won’t pay no nevermind. Only I must struggle through holidays and, uh, everything alone. How does she get away that?

Must be nice. And I guess that’s the point.

Must be nice to be you. (@secondtongue)

It’s like a game only she gets to win.

@kaitlyn.n.lentulo

Love. I’ll wait for it. I’ll be ready for it. And this stupid Hallmark Holiday won’t matter for shit. The love that’s coming will be celebrated every damn day.

That’ll do, Valentine’s Day 2018. That’ll do.

Grief and Valentines

There’s something especially dread-worthy about Valentine’s Day this year – my first V-Day alone since I was pubescent. Not that I remember doing anything particularly memorable for this Hallmark Holiday in many, many years. It’s a similar feeling to New Year’s at the stroke of midnight – like, I know what you’re doing out there … without me. I actually do remember how exciting firsts are with a new luh-huh-ver (channeling Adele) – major holidays, that New Year’s midnight kiss, “Our First Valentine’s Day”. Gah, especially if you’re both Love Bombs. It’s sure to be an extravaganza! I’m imagining flowers (delivered to work for ultimate impact), cards, chocolates, bubble baths (I seem to recall a trail of rose petals that led from the front door all the way to the tub back when weeeee were young (yep, Adele again) and celebrating our first V-Day). And there will be sex. More sex than I’ve had in years. YEARS I TELL YOU.

Left behind is a shitty place to be on Valentine’s Day.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t know how they relish in my pain. Social media is a real kick in the ass in this modern age of breaking up. Well, that is before I was fully blocked. Blocking, I discovered, was often strategic. I’d be blocked for a bit *until* a flower delivery and then someone would make sure that I could see that bidness. Honestly, I don’t need to do my own research (er, mild stalking?), someone typically sends me a screenshot or mentions a particularly intriguing (or revolting) post. Love Bomb and I share over 100 friends on Facebook, and there are people looking out for me, many of whom are not impressed with how quickly and easily I was replaced.

But New Girl and Love Bomb, they’re laughing AT me and at my expense, “Haha’ing” on posts that, clearly, are about me. Strategic.

Love Bomb didn’t do that shit to “Caroline”, whom she dumped – for me. It was clear all along that she actually had a sense of remorse, guilt, and a certain degree of sorrowful respect for the one she left behind with no explanation or warning. Granted, we didn’t have social media back then (because OLD), but I certainly never laughed at or talked shit about Caroline – ever. I felt guilty and horrible with the knowledge that she was left alone, traded in and replaced. And I … I was the home wrecker. I desperately hoped she might find it in her heart to forgive me someday. We were civil, but was there forgiveness? In hindsight, no, I don’t think so. Not with the knowledge I not only understand, but now share about just how terribly it hurts to be replaced without so much as a real conversation. She was just better at maintaining a friendship with Love Bomb, despite me. She was a better, stronger person than I. She was better at hiding the pain.

Love Bomb and Caroline had a special, undeniable connection. If you couldn’t tell by looking thru just a few of the 9 years worth of photos of a life they shared, it was unmistakable when it came to Caroline’s passing.

Yes, Caroline died. In hospice care – in a room overcrowded with other dying people.

She should have died in her home. The home they purchased and made theirs. The home I was sharing with Love Bomb at the time. A home I never really felt comfortable in. It wasn’t mine.

The morning Caroline died started much like any other. Love Bomb got in the shower while I enjoyed a few more minutes of shut-eye. Her shower was brief; she dressed quickly. She came in to the bedroom and announced that she had to go see Caroline before work. She said she felt an urgent need to go to hospice, like, right now. And so she did.

In some cosmic sort of way Caroline summoned Love Bomb, waited for her, and moments later, she passed away.

I, for one, feel horrendously guilty, and I wonder if it ever occurs to Love Bomb that she threw away a relationship with someone that she was genuinely cosmically connected to. She brushed it off, “everything happens for a reason”, and explained: “I couldn’t have managed that loss if we were still together”. It would have been devastating, of course. Maybe she’s right – maybe she couldn’t have dealt with that loss – she won’t manage the loss of people who are still living and breathing. She will NOT be alone.

Caroline, I’m so sorry that I was a part of your loss, and that by participating in an adolescent game of passion, I took so much more than just your best friend and partner. I wish we all would have done things differently. Soon, I’ll do an entry about the things we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better in light of the crappy things we do and say. I think back on those excuses now and can hardly stand myself. My only solace is that I’ve done the hard work to let the grief in; I’ve reflected upon, grown, and learned from my mistakes. I did not appreciate that my 22 year old self could actually change lives and futures forever. I was thoughtless and impulsive, and 22 was my excuse. At 43, one birthday more than you ever enjoyed, Caroline, I get it now, and I’m sorry.

I wonder what you did that first Valentine’s Day alone in 1999 as I followed a trail of rose petals to my tub. Are you laughing at me now? Do you laugh just like they do?