My hair smells like campfire and fresh cut grass. I love the warmer months, mornings spent doing yardwork, afternoons in the sunshine, evenings by a fire, laughing and talking with friends. I need my winter months of solitude, cuddled up with a blanket and a book and a roast in the Crock-Pot. But these first few weeks of warm weather, and the last few weeks of warm weather are where it’s at; on either side of the hellfire that hits Ohio in the summer months.
Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I’ve been purposely vague out of respect for other parties involved, but to hell with it. I need to heal, so I need to write. There’s a quote I came across a couple years ago that struck me as quite accurate – “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” This isn’t the quote of the day, but it’s just as important.
I’m sure many that are following the quotes series either have a backstage pass to my life and know what happened, or they have guessed – I’m going through a break up. Yup. The woman who has declared for years that she is “happily single” decided to give someone a chance, and it ended rather abruptly, and was one of the biggest shocks of my life. The catalyst that started me writing again seriously, writing this blog consistently, was a break up. It was almost three years to the day since that last one.
I’m not here to bash him. I have my opinions, I have my hard feelings, but I’m not going to give the ins and outs and lurid details of the relationship or the break up. Facts are, I let someone in again, and again it didn’t end well.
Which brings us to our quote.
“Live to the point of tears.” – Albert Camus
I have two kids by two different men. Beyond them, I have had several relationships, all which did not end well. But I refuse to let that make me swear off relationships. Do I prefer being single? Yeah. It’s what I know. But I also enjoy having someone by my side, too. One could surmise that I’m the common denominator in these failed relationships. Also not fully factual. It takes two to make a relationship work, and it takes two for it to end. Period, point blank. I cannot sit here and tell you it was all their fault. But. . . I can’t sit here and tell you it was all mine, either.
My problem is, I am a highly emotional person. I feel every ounce of every feeling that courses through me. I’m never just upset – I’m pissed off. I don’t merely love someone – they become, essentially, the center of my universe.
I live life to the point of tears.
So when something doesn’t go well – a prime example being this break up – I can’t just walk away. Its like someone died for Christ Sake. He had become my universe.
I asked Sophia this evening, “What the fuck is wrong with me? Life just doesn’t feel right.”
“Huh? What do you mean, life doesn’t feel ‘right’?” She asked me.
I looked down at the plate of food in front of me, the first I’ve eaten since Thursday evening. “It fucking feels like something’s missing. And I know that’s stupid, but. . .”
She assured me it wasn’t stupid. “Honey, no. It’s not stupid. That’s completely normal. If you didn’t feel that way I’d think something was wrong with you. You can’t be Billy Badass all the time. It’s okay to feel things. You’re Amber. Not Billy Badass.” And I laughed at her trying to make me laugh. I really do have the most amazing friends.
But she’s right. I do put up a front of being this bad ass bitch who can handle anything – which isn’t exactly a lie, I definitely can – but inside I feel everything. I just choose not to show it.
I live to the point of tears.
I notice every wonderful smell, and notice the way the light falls through the leaves of the trees. I hear the utter joy in children laughing and have the ability to take joy from the sound. I hug my Chaser and smell the little boy smell that he won’t have for very much longer, and take a moment to enjoy it.
And when I love. . . I love with every ounce of who I am. There’s nothing fake about it. I couldn’t fake it if I tried. Just like I can’t fake liking someone. Just like I can’t act enthused about something that doesn’t interest me. I am one hundred and ten percent genuine.
I live to the point of tears, I live my life feeling every feeling and noticing every thing. And while it has its drawbacks, it’s also quite wonderful. I rarely have a bad day, because I can see so much good in it.
Today wasn’t easy. I had to make the choice to decide to walk away. He had already decided to, and I didn’t believe him. I had to make myself believe it. It sucked and it was hard, but I couldn’t keep second guessing.
It’s hard to call yourself out on your own bullshit. But as I’ve been saying, I have to do what’s right for me. I’d much rather know than not. So I did what I had to do.
And then I weeded and mowed and cleaned up my yard, and I spent the afternoon with friends who made me laugh until my sides hurt, who fed me, who appreciated me. And I heard children laughing and dogs barking, I saw the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves in the trees, felt the sun baking my skin. . . And I was happy. I’m still sad. This sucks on so many different levels. But I have an amazing life and an amazing support system, and I’ll be just fine.
I live life to the point of tears, and this isn’t going to stop me from doing that. There’s too much to be grateful for.
Happy Saturday. Please, go out and enjoy life.
One thought on “Live to the point of Tears”
Wow. I love this idea of living to the point of tears. Thank you🥰😚
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