I’m feeling a bit rubbery and tendonless today. I have that distinctly uncomfortable self-awareness that comes in the middle of a hangover as you try to replay the evening before. You’re almost positive you made a fool of yourself somewhere along the way, but not sure exactly when or how. Except I’m not hung over, I just do this after almost every social event. It’s a social hangover for the emotionally unevolved extrovert. At least I can count myself among the blessed few not suffering from real alcohol poisoning today. Paolo is still in bed moaning for ibuprofen and juice and it’s past noon.
Two friends at our party last night each recently ended five-year relationships seemingly headed for marriage and family. One of those friends commented that he had underestimated the importance of communication in the relationship. That he had all of these feelings he thought he was expressing, but in the end it turned out he wasn’t expressing them in a way his partner could understand. It seems to me that I’ve been through several important relationships that ended for the same reason. That little communication crack turns into a deep divide. You ignore it most of the time because you love the person and they love you and clearly the relationship is right. But one morning you wake up and you’re lying next to somebody who might have been your soul-mate but who is now a stranger. And things are too complicated by life and by habit to go back. And then the divide starts nagging at you every minute of every day because you feel lonely.
What effected me strongly was the way this friend expressed himself. It was clear that he had spent a long time thinking about what went wrong, exactly, and he was full of regret. And I know that sorrow too well, of losing somebody that feels so perfectly yours. Of letting go somebody so beloved that it’s more painful to keep them the wrong way than to free them the right way.
