Tuesday, 29 June 2010

Three short stories: how I got over the fabric-of-reality-ripping pain of divorce

Perhaps the most dangerous part of loss is underestimating the brain's will to stop working. Never mind the heart - heart is a hungry vampire, it only needs a drop of blood to stay alive - but the brain hates the heart and the it makes every other part of the body wage war on the red hot muscle. Lucky for me I really suck at suicide. That much about my brain.
             Having loved profoundly - and basically planned to love until I died (that part was, ironically, pretty to the point) - my mind still works by association - not because I'd think, but because I'd remember. Being the creature of stories, a powerful love affair fed me stories to last me decades. I didn't plan on having to deal with them. It was impossible to shake them in a hurry - the best ones still nag sometimes. I did, however, trick the brain into not giving up on the heart while those were rotting in my skull.
             At some point I was passionate about watching Cowboy Bebop - passionate enough to play on-line chess and gamble to get in debt (and not even just because it had a sociopath white-haired villain) - but nearing the end, I began to realize unlike the Champloo magic, this one isn't going to end so well. I read upon it and I was proved right: the damn idiots actually manage to kill each-other. I couldn't watch it - somehow, because of all that was happening to me, that just depressed me into ran-over grapes.
             So, in the brain, I created a  hatch bypass. So that I wouldn't think about divorce - and I thought about it all the time - so much so that even my parents took turns in trying to cheer me up for a couple of weeks - I would instead of the ex, instantly start thinking about the death of Vicious and Spike.  It took a little practice and that was all I had. To me at the time that was equally tragic - but every time the next moment, the brain would go: wait a minute. Why the fuck are you crying over a cartoon??... and so, brain being brain, it steered clear of it a little. Just a little. A micro inch. Every time. Slowly but surely. Towards the end, a few years later, I look back upon the three - Spike, Vicious and the ex and see an old story that didn't end well. And now the brain has new problems and the heart is free to roam :p