The Numbing Effect

14 Feb 2013.

As I sit here, I find myself thinking: this is the greatest irony of all. It's Valentine's Day, and my "valentine" had reared its ugly head and struck me where it hurt the most. Valentine's Day, the day of expression of love for many had become a day of sore feelings and bitter emotions.

I still think of the scene, but now is the stage of the Numbing Effect. The stage where you have previously cried your eyes out until no tears flowed free, the stage where you are exhausted, and have mostly accepted reality.

I'm calm again. When I think it through, tears do not flow. When I think it through, the shredded heart no longer throbs achingly. When I think it through, I hear a distant voice, saying that possibly I have stopped loving him all in all.

I do admit to that. There are magnanimous women in the world who would forgive anything and everything their partners did just to stay with them- those women have the biggest and most loving hearts of all. I cannot pretend to be as noble them, and I cannot pretend that I had wanted to go to him and destroy his reputation in front of his friends, as well as hers. That was why I deleted him from my social activity account. Can't take any risks that I myself would regret for the rest of my life. I held my own hand. I'm not like him. I said to myself, tasting the tears on my lips. I'm nothing like him, and I will not do anything that will tarnish my own reputation in a moment of folly. I'm nothing like the person -character- I hate. 

I didn't know how to release the rage. I found myself laughing, wishing fervently this was an opera. All I'd have to do next then, would be to sing a rage aria was such tumultuous passion, and the throw myself off the cliff like Tosca did. Or actually I had consumption, and after my final breath of life I fall, dying, like Violetta. But the opera I was in should be a Romantic period one, not Mozart's. No forgiveness as seen in the final scene of the Marriage of Figaro. Just pure tragedy.

I wonder why I am sitting here, typing this, wallowing in self pity over a life I had seen in movies and not think for a slightest second that it could become a reality. Or at least for the past two years, that it WAS a reality that I was shielded selfishly from. I wasn't the worst hit. There are others who had suffered worst than me. I do have friends who care, and friends to come to be like angels to add a little glue to the heart that had crumbled. Why am I doing this? Solace? Comfort?

God knows.