Fri 15 Aug, 2008 12:24 am
Grief, if that is the right word for the emotions I'm feeling, has odd habits. It sleeps for hours at a time only to waken at a completely unpredictable moment. I hadn't cried at all, or not much, during the first "meeting" when she told me she was leaving. During the second meeting, when we were discussing bank accounts, how much of the furniture she would take and whether she would take one cat or both, I didn't shed a tear until she asked if I wanted to keep one or two of her paintings. That makes me weep a little now, but mostly I've been able to hold myself and what little dignity I have left fairly intact, but this morning,
after forgetting my cellphone again and having to go back home and get it and after returning to the turnstiles only to have my MetroCard rejected as "just used",
after asking the sleepy eyed attendent how long I would have to wait before I could use the card, knowing I would miss the next train and be late,
after he said "I've seen you around, go ahead and use the gate." ... .
This one small act of kindness broke open all my resistance and I had a nice, long cry on the train.
The train is a good place to cry. For one thing, crowded or empty, the other people in the car with you don't give a ratsass what you are doing so long as it doesn't do anything that might stop or slow down the train. So you can cry or you can yodel while shaking a can with three dimes in it, you can be a three hundred pound man wearing a giant sunflower costume or two very tattooed women chained together at the waist, New York commuters will contine to work on their third Sudoko of the day, thank you very much. For another, if you are wearing headsets, the others can't tell if you are crying at the last chapter of "The Great Gatsby" or because of something else. It could be some real tragedy in your own life or you might have just read in the Daily News about the little girl swept away from her church group after falling into the Niagra River. For me, it was grief. I'm pretty sure that is the right word for the feelings you have when your world, previously small and tidy and a bit boring, is melting and shattering, full of flames and ice and tears.
Joe(both cats. so they won't be lonely.)Nation
Sorry as hell that you're going through that. Grief definitely sounds right to me.
Hey, I did that to somebody. Guy quit his job, and his wife was getting nothing but grief about being charged for uniforms she knew she had turned in. One five minute call to the uniform service cleared up the whole thing. Poor woman just couldn't handle the idea that someone would take that much time to fix a problem. She'd been through a lot.
I'm sorry, I know how grief feels and I would give you a big hug if I were on that train with you.
This is good writing....I hope it is fiction?
The cats did me.
Is this fiction? I was gonna tag it fiction but then wasn't sure.
Very very good Joe.
No, not fiction, she leaves on Monday.
Joe(it's been a long week since Tuesday.)Nation
That's why one should always be a little kind to strangers, isn't that how the saying goes?
Joe(That much time is usually so little time anyway)Nation
Joe, Truly sorry you're in pain. Trying to think up something comforting to say. Nada.
You're right about the subway. As long as you don't overtly bother anybody or delay the train in some way, you can do pretty much whatever you want. Gotta admit that picturing you crying on the train makes me a little weepy too.
No, not fiction, she leaves on Monday.
Aw phooey. I was hoping. (For the fiction part, I mean.)
Sorry Joe. Big hugs.
Ah, Joe. I'm so sorry.
When you feel that way, just think of all of us sitting with you. Small comfort, I know. But, you are loved and we're here for you.
Plenty more... trains to catch.
If your ever in my town, the beer is on me.
Oh, man -- sorry to hear it, Joe.
Sorry to hear that Joe. From what I've learned of you here on A2K, I think she doesn't yet know what she'll be missing. Men like you are rare gems. The fact that you not only expressed your sorrow on the train but also wrote and posted about it here only confirms my belief. I'm glad you let us all know what is going on so we can help you through this.
I still keenly remember the months after my separation/divorce more than 30 years ago. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my body and I'd been punched in the stomach. Couldn't sleep, had no desire to eat, couldn't even keep food down when I forced myself to eat. It took a long long time to finally accept it and grow a callus over the pain so it wouldn't hurt as much. I still have lots of emotional scars from that time, mostly because I didn't have anyone that I felt comfortable talking with about it all. Make use of your friends here and in your daily life. We're here to listen and help when you need it.
I can't imagine why would anyone leave you, Joe, but I'm glad you're at the crying stage.... you know, moving towards dealing and healing. or at least dealing for now. it's the little things that get you. for me it was a tupperware container with tomatoes from my ex-garden.
keep talking to us. hugs to you. and a cup of chicken soup.
Damn. I'm sorry Joe. Mind if I cry with you?