Surrender

All four of us were walking down the street looking for a distraction and reparation because we were each needing recovery. She was heartbroken over the loss of her brother, her and I were saddened by our break-ups and the final lady was suffering from something that she still could not put her finger on. Our heads were held low and grief etched its way across our faces. Tears were struggling to break free.

My mind suddenly wrapped around a warm and nurturing thought. I peered up through my dry red eyes and saw the familar trees, fountain and wrought-iron of a spa I have had the fortune of visiting a few times.

"Ladies, let's go here."

They lifted their heads and walked into the lavender-scented reception room gazing around like kittens. The room was bussling with alterations for the next holiday, which by the appearance of happy rubber bats and pointy black hats must have been Halloween.

I walked up to the receptionist and requested a few listings of their services.

As I handed out the pamphlets the girls heads resumed their downward positions and they grumbled that everything cost too much. I tried to reason with them that this was something that could help them and it was worth it to splurge. They didn't agree and I could see their strings of sadness tugging them back out to the street.

As we neared my home a tightness formed in my belly as I sensed the approach of my apartment manager. He came up to me ready to strike his barbed words into my chest, but before he could I burst into tears and shakily said, "I didn't replace the curtains yet because my dad was in the hospital." Instead of reprimanding me like he tends to do he started crying, too. It was the first time since I started living in my apartment in July that I felt validated by him. He used softer words and allowed me state my case. My friends faded into the background.

Even as this dispute was being resolved my heart was sulking beneath my chest for my love loss that I had not fully surrendered to. Much like my manager, my boyfriend had been in the dark as to why I left so abruptly and didn't come back. He thought it was over a petty situation of hurt feelings, but it was so much deeper than that. So deep in fact that I was coming to terms with it on my drive home. He was an alcoholic. He had a disease. His disease was hurting the both of us. How could I have reasoned with him? His eyes were gruesome, his teeth purple-tinted and his words were acerbic like the fermented grapes he was drinking. I'd have had better luck with a two-year-old hyped up on chocolate.

I left, but my heart didn't. Once I love someone it never goes away. That part is easy, but this new life is initially difficult to accept. Like bandaids I've watched silly comedies and made purchases to salve my wounds, but it next to impossible for me to eat. I do though because I love myself and the worst thing people can do is give up on theirselves.

All this stuff happened in my dream last night, but when I woke up I realized that this story is all etched in reality. My eyes are tired, so I cooked myself an egg.