So, it begins…the process of rejection.

I haven’t heard from him for more than a couple of weeks, and the loss of his attention makes me love hungry. Every day before his estrangement, I would swaddle my phone in my palm, anticipating the sudden boost of adrenaline when I would eat up his delicious slick words and feel beautiful and desirable. They were simple words like, “good morning,” or a ridiculously dry joke, but they were all moments I knew he was thinking about me. It was a dance I played silently with pride, fighting the urge to get in touch and let him know I was thinking about him just the same. Now that he’s gone, my solitude echoes in the walls of my chest; a wicked reminder of what I have done.

Every little, stupid chime of communication becomes one more time I fail to avoid the disappointment. The chimes come and flash in the dark, displaying a “Joe” or “Brad”, insignificant pawns that are just as lonely and vulnerable as I am. It’s another witty message from the old divorcee looking for a mid-life crisis fix, and then one from the presumptuous prick boasting of boozy nights bought with unemployment checks. That’s what I have succumbed to. My stomach curdles, and I let the backlight on my phone fade along with my hope.

……………………………….

Heart break doesn’t hurt as much as it is irritating. It doesn’t even centrally affect my heart per se, but my whole upper torso like a fat elephant compressing the crap out of me with its fat butt. That’s about as degraded as I feel right now: a woman that had her heart crushed by an elephant’s ass. It sits upon me, that white elephant, wiping its vulgarity all over my pure intentions, and the only thing I can do is turn my head away from the stench of my humiliation.

As difficult as it is to accept, I’m beginning to understand the demise of courtship. Two people throwing risk into the air hoping to catch one another before it drops right down on them. Some people connect and allow themselves to waltz away from the danger. The less fortunate are too busy hopelessly depending on their partner to save them from their own frailties, ultimately blindsiding them from the crush. So, how can I blame the endless encounters that have met and abandoned me? I understand now that I have never willingly accepted the responsibility of my own safety. I am rhythmless.

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