Rinky-Dink Love & Orgasms
May 12 2015
- Then: Burning Man 2013
Through distance & Time
with compassion, love &
patience, you’ve taught me the
real meaning of love.
You are my soul mate,
- Now: Afrikaburn 2015
“I loved with all of
my entire heart & I
would never change that
for the entire world.
Heartbreak is the hardest, strongest pain
& it is SO fucking
You were right.
You were right about everything.
Even when you were wrong.
The last we spoke- like really, really spoke, was last October. I have a feeling, by my own conditions; it will probably be the last. I cried a lot, I had just arrived at my site placement, I was alone, and I was scared…. You wouldn’t understand though, it had been too long now, not even updates would suffice or begin to explain what I had been through up until that point. I recall in that moment of our last discussion, understanding that you would never understand. I remember listening to how your past months had been… You updated me on life with your new jobs and work, and it showed me how time is so relative…. You were exactly the same… Always the same… Very little realistically had changed- but yet in only 4 months I had experienced lifetimes here in Africa, lifetimes. I recall feeling further away from you than I had ever felt in my life, not only physically- but now emotionally. And this was the beginning of my understanding of the end.
We said some mushy things about always loving one another, these things now seeming so distant, eerie, dream like. You had met a girl-but no, to be quite fair: you had met a woman. And in all honesty, I am so proud of your finding. I like to think somewhere in the back of your head I was a catalyst to this and by that I simply mean: I successfully tainted all of your fantasies and fetishes of the “wild and out” Detroit Hipster Chick. Que Description: Dog collar, short-shorts, crazy leggings, flannel + every texture/pattern ever. Decorated with blue/purple/green hair, maybe shaved heads, coked out & paper thin, DJ teenybopper types (and this is in fact a type, if you’re from Detroit, than you know).Anyway, Like I said, I am proud you found a successful independent woman, you deserve that, and I mean that.
The last we spoke, I asked when, or if, it ever stops hurting? When will it be ok? Your only response was with time, and by moving forward. I think I was really initially hurt by the idea of actively moving forward, without you in my life, and with someone else. I couldn’t get over the fact that you had been there for so much, you were one of my best friends, and then nothing- I held onto this pain for a long time. & That pain would always angrily revert back to the mere fact that: I’m living in the middle of no-where, (by my own choice — I can hear you relentlessly reminding me), meeting someone in my imminent future was moot…. You could say that I’m not really into the “village type”…
My greatest self discoveries and reflections here have been through understanding my own patience, understanding the people around me, being kind and to try to be forgiving (that’s a work in progress)…. So I’ve since relaxed on judgment, and minding my own business in regards to other peoples life choices… Which sometimes in the past would result in an unfortunate cruel judgment of people I associated myself with… But realistically this all spawned from a place of jealousy and insecurity- two places I was very familiar with by the time I left Detroit last August.
So in October, or for a while, I had jealously in the depths of my mind, not even in regards to other women… but in the blatant convenience: Well lucky for you! In your famous Detroit world! World of abundance in all directions! You will have no trouble moving on and moving forward! Insanity… I know. Trust me, I fucking know. I know for certain I was not jealous of whomever that the moving forward may be with, but more so the fact of the easy and endless possibilities of convenience. I wanted you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, I just didn’t understand how you got to be happy when I was so, so unbelievably far from that.
And then your relentless reminder rings in my ear: Remember, I chose this life for myself, this is what I chose, and honestly: I would choose it over and over again till the end of time. Being alone in Africa, alone with myself and with my mind, alone with time: there are no distractions.
I befriended a highly piousness spider,
and when she left, that was the update for my month.
I am the owner of time, I am the master of my own thoughts, I am the archeologist of my emotions. I’ve dissected every relationship, every conversation, everything I’ve experienced, how I’ve treated people from my family to my friends to people I’ve loved or thought I loved. I finally understand the psychology behind why I felt a certain way during a certain something, during all of the certain somethings- poetic right. I’ve never had time like this, I’ve never known time like this, and without this experience that I chose here for myself, I would have never ever uncovered such astonishing, life changing discoveries.
To dissect this pain, and truly feel it, was completely and utterly necessary. I didn’t just dip a toe in, feel its wretchedness, its absolutely wrecked and stabbing pain- and jump out…. Don’t get me wrong, I had avoided its inevitable pain, and I was quite good at avoiding it for a long while…
This heartbreak was unavoidable once arriving in Africa… Africa allowed me to remember that the heartache was still present, and the brokenness was still in one million pieces, they were not left and buried in the streets of Detroit. In fact I packaged them perfectly, individually wrapped them with their own welcome cards and brought them with me, I held them close, without my own knowing. So what could be done? Alone with my brokenness? Finally accepting truth? What did I do? I jumped in- head first into the most awful pain I’d yet to feel. I cannon balled in and deep sea dove in that shit. I felt it for everything that it was… and probably for everything that it most certainly wasn’t. And I will never stop saying…
“Nostalgia is just the dirty liar that insists things were better than they seemed.”
Things I was terrified of… Orgasms. WILL I EVER HAVE ANOTHER OGRASM- Crying in desperation (25 years old… of course I’ll have another goddamned orgasm, what is this? Women’s Suffrage?). WHAT IF NO ONE EVER LOVES ME AGAIN?! (ok- that is just pure naivety, insanity and basking in the patheticism. By far the most pathetic pity-party of a life-time hosted by yours truly…. Not that I’m totally loveable but common… There’s escorts when all else fails right? ). I mean realistically I think any post breakup participant engages in thoughts of this nature…(I hope…)
But my greatest fear was — Why is this taking so long? At the year mark of our breakup I was terrified, everything still hurts, what is the deal? I recall some dumb article telling me that it takes half the relationship to get over the relationship ughhhh….. So… at these numbers I was fucked.
boredom and aloneness convinced me that I still loved you, but my reality would chime in the facts: I don’t even know you? And you certainly don’t know me? This isn’t logical…. But love… or the idea of love… is never ever logical now is it?
You were right,
even when you were really,
I mean naturally I knew… but sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes, since “without you”- I loved you so fucking much, it just existed, it thrived, like its own fucking heart. It ruled everything, all my emotions. I thought to myself: How in the fuck have I traveled all across the world, been with dozens of beautiful, beautiful men- but yet you are still in the back of my mind and center, somewhere, deep down in my heart? How? I would hold on hopelessly and helplessly… I would maintain this hollow hope for a future that was literally non-existent and pointless- and this I knew deep down.
For what purpose did carrying the burden of my brokenness by you around? I shamelessly sent you emails regardless of response. I sent you poems, songs, let you know how I was doing, asked how you were doing…. When I knew, I always knew, there would be no response, and I thank you for that. I wrote you probably over 50 letters to your Commonwealth address, letters of which I never sent. I brought those letters to Afrikaburn, and I let them burn… I was ready to let go, which has been a very, very psychologically straining thing for me to do.
I always remember when you said to me… “We have to wait for the dust to settle.” And it took me a very long time to understand completely what that means. Finally on my own behalf I have allowed the dust to settle, and now I can see clearly …. And I think, for my own sake, even though the dust is now settled, I don’t think there are any more words, there is nothing to wait for between you and I.
But you were right about this,
even though sometimes,
you were just wrong.
Through perhaps a bit forced trial and error… Finding another does in fact help… I do not recommend this advice onto anyone though. Through fate and Africa and crossing of paths, finding the right ‘another’ certainly helps. , or at least it has helped me…
I didn’t want you to be right. I wanted to get over you all by myself… I’m now not sure if that was ever plausible or possible. But one thing I do know now, is the reassurance from being able to talk freely about you, and about us without pain, with another… As if you were a touristy destination that I had enjoyed the experience of at the time, but probably wouldn’t return too, and certainly wouldn’t pay for again. And most importantly, to feel the way I felt for you, but for another, and heaps stronger: This is something I never believed in, and it’s surprising appearance, and shocking depth has put light in all the darkness.
None of the sad songs hurt anymore. & The memories don’t hurt either. None of it hurts anymore… The dark place that I created, the dark places that embodied the deepest parts of my mental have been filled with the most utterly beautiful gold of light…. If only for now, but isn’t Now, all we ever actually have?