Thursday, January 17, 2013

The January Syndrome

Hurt comes in many packages, some of them uncomfortably small. Once the boxes have been sorted according to kith, kin, kindred and the like you start to analyse them, attempting to drum up enough support for your cause. That's when you realise you are a lost cause. The first rude shock came many years ago when I felt I was special and waited for a wedding (number one) to kick me in my shins. I could not imagine whether I had messed up in the perception department or whether I had simply lost out--all for one, one for all. The second wedding had me wary from the word go, so the distraction was less intense and numbing. Wedding three put the final nail in the coffin. Maybe there was a detachment kink that I beamed out that took primary, bragging rights away from me. Or it might have been my sense of expectation that swallowed me whole. Either ways, weddings did me in and put me in my place, slowly and surely.

Today, there is a different kind of hurt edging its way into my family and is built on the knowledge that shared pasts are not enough to guarantee a future. I find them grovelling in the dark, confused, on edge and exceptionally lonely. I want to say I can make it better but honestly I can't. I dream about it and think about it incessantly, knowing that sadness, loneliness and unhappiness are not emotions you should be forced to acknowledge in your 60s.

Please get better I pray. Please

No comments: