And so I continue with this superfluous challenge of mending my breaking heart. Let's face it, the only thing that will ever mend pain of this manner is time. And possibly friendship. However, I am determined to distract myself until time has begun the rebuilding process.
The next suggestion was to listen to a whole range of love songs. Celebratory love anthems, depressing melodies that tug the chords of your heart strings, the whole enchilada. I can do this. I love to sing. I live on my own. I can belt out some musical classics until I am so filled with fatigue I forget about anything else. This was going to be better than dancing along to 'jump' with Hugh Grant. Oh, really!?
Perhaps it was my inner actress, who so desperately wanted to be centre stage during my childhood days, that made this a rather emotional one. She just had to make the songs that bit too realistic. Bitch. Perhaps it was the choice of songs themselves. Perhaps it's because after years of locking away my girliest of emotions they are now all fighting to be front stage and I'm finding it just too exhausting appeasing them all. Perhaps I am simply a moron. Whatever your conclusion, although I must confess the songs helped, they also brought up fresh wounds of rejection. Hello wound, have you met salt?
It began so well, there was aggressive bursts of female power that could have rivalled any Spice Girls or Destiny's Child music video. In fact, Destiny's Child were fantastic. Is it too late to send them fan mail? If I said I danced around the flat emulating the "Say My Name" video, I wouldn't be lying. If they ever decide to be a four piece again, someone please give them my details; it's magic in the making. Trust me.
Feeling slightly over confident with my new kick-arse girl power persona, I headed for the musicals. Big, big mistake.
Firstly, let me explain that this boy (you know the one; tall, good looking, can't commit) and I share a mutual love of Les Mis (I promise you he's not gay!). In our time we have sent each other sober and drunken texts regarding this exquisite musical. And don't get me started on our love of Eponine.
So you can imagine the atmosphere change once our beloved Eponine began to sing about being all alone again with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. By the time she was telling me that without her "his world would go on turning, a world that's full of happiness that I have never known!!" I was gone. Tears falling and my chin wobbling with such angst it could have given Claire Danes a run for her money (by the by, is there a person out there that can stay dry eyed when Claire Danes is crying? Have you seen her? Have you? It's traumatic. She deserves an Oscar alone for that chin. The woman is wondrous. But again, digression seems to be the name of the game).
With the mood decidedly more somber and filled with "what if's", the choice in songs took a turn for the blue. I could suddenly find a connection with each and every love song that passed my ears. Some gave me hope, some made me angry and some filled with regret for ever voicing that what we had wasn't enough. How do these other women do this all the time? It's exhausting. No wonder it scares him. It bloody terrifies me. Why do I want this again? I forget.
I still felt sad, I still felt lonely, I still felt lost, but I didn't feel alone. I am clearly not alone in rejection. And in many ways I am luckier than so many others. This boy cares for me, he likes me and he thinks I'm beautiful; the fact that he's not in the same place as I am doesn't mean I'm a repulsive beast who will die alone supplying food for months for my pet llamas. Or alpacas.
Whilst singing (weeping) my way through my iPod I stumbled across a little known song "Being Alive" from the musical 'Company'. The lyrics sat uncomfortably with me. The truth often does. The song is about, yes, you guessed it, a commitment phobe. His friends are agreeing with his issues when it comes to relationships but wisely utter "You've got so many reasons for not being with someone, but you haven't gotten one good reason to be alone" before Robert (the vocalist) voices the fear in "Someone to need you too much, someone to know you too well, someone to pull you up short...someone you have to let in, someone whose feelings you spare, someone who like it or not, will want you to share a little. A lot!" These, in a nutshell have always been my issues. I have no trouble with someone needing or relying on me, however, the thought of them wanting to be "let in" and "know everything about me" does not sit well with me. However, I realise that although this is scarier than a lonely walk down an alley in front of an axe owning maniac, I was finally ready for it. The next stage that is, not being anywhere near an axe murderer. Come on, now.
If I only move through the next stage with tiniest of baby steps, it matters not. Nor does it matter that I reached this conclusion on my own and had no one to help me through the next stage (yet). The important thing is that I've reached it. I am there and I am determined to stay there. My bloggers challenge to mend my breaking heart has taken on a new level; mend heart and don't allow commitment issues to get in the way any longer. This has become fifty shades more difficult.
After these songs and realisation. Sadness was still etched within, but it no longer filled me. These songs had built on the tiny hope that Angel Cake and Love, Actually had begun. And long may it continue
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