it's about dying nine times

we all face goodbye, by virtue we face alot of them,
it seems as though human nature would have you steal away
from goodbye, from a meager form of abandonment, or isolation
whatever the case may be.

with every car that pulls away,
ever back that is turned
one is lulled into a sense of numbness,
a comfort in the inevitable, and an anxiousness at it's arrival.

it is strange how you dread a final meeting
but ache for it at the same instant
because the anticipation is almost worse

and then, this "goodbye" this "burning of the bridge," "closing the book," these cheesy cliches,
once they happen, or are happening,
i find myself realing in how anitclimactic they are

how i am handling this well,
holding myself in with little effort,
no tears, no anger, no raw emotion of any kind,
just a dull sense of going through the motions

i put this off to anticipation, preparedness for the arrival of goodbye
but what if in all the preperation, anticipation, you numbed yourself to reality?
built a little wall, made alittle line that you refused to subconsiously cross.

amazing, the subconsious, how it keeps us safe
because would it not be human nature to steal away from abandonment,
sure it would,
and that, in the modern day and age of friendly and romantic relations, is how it is done.

sure your brain registers that this should be painful,
but how much are you feeling this raw emotion and how much are you just simulating it,
because you know that is how it should be,

and it's not that you don't want to feel it,
or that you don't
you have just closed off that part of you
to save face, to show no voulnerability,
again, human nature?
most likely.

but then it hits you
two days, two years, two months later...it hits you.
all of a sudden your emotions, your tear ducts, your subconsious, catch up with your brain, with reality.

and you can't stop
the involuntairy waves of emotions
the ones you cheated with half smiles, and phone calls,
everything pales in comparison to that utter sense of loss.

it's falling prey to self pity when you let your gaurd down
because it is not worth pretending to yourself that you are strong
not any more.

all of its there, where no one can see it
and i for one was relieved, because for a while i thought
that it wasn't right that i didn't feel
i was numb, the numbness was predictable,
but when it didn't go away,
when the emotions that fell out of me were not picked up, when the hunger briefly subsided, i was confused

"shouldn't you be feeling something more, something real, tangiable."

and i should have
and i do.

it hit me,
a song
your voice
- - or lack there of as it were

it hit me in a rush
emotional whip lash

i had stopped dreading it
knew it had to come
and it did

i'm back where i started
only this time, there is nothing familiar around me

i guess this is what it is all about
sure.
this is moving forward.

what a concept.
what a profound and consiquently abstract concept.

maybe i overthink things
maybe to compincate for what i am afraid to feel
or afraind that i don't feel.

"i'm still an asshole playing with matches,
he's just not around to play
along."

yeah, that's the tune....