Today, I’m feeling self-indulgently heartsick. If the thought
of reading yet another weblog about someone’s depressive longing for
love in her life makes you want to regurgitate, click that little red
box with an x in it up at the top right corner of this page, and head
for the loo.

Here it comes.

We all have those songs that seem to “say
it all”. Though the song I wrote encapsulated what I was feeling
the very best way I knew how, there are plenty of other songs out there
that strike a chord with me (*rim shot* I’ll be here all week.
Tip your waitress.). Here are some of the lyrics to one of them:

I mistook the warnings for wisdom

From so called friends quick to advise


Though your touch was telling me otherwise


Somehow I saw you as a weakness


I thought I had to be strong


Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong


Guess I did what I did believing


That love is a dangerous thing


Oh but that couldn’t hurt anymore than never knowing


Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows


Just a place to run when my working day is through


They say home is where the heart is


If the exception proves the rule I guess that’s true


Not a night goes by


I don’t dream of wandering


Through the home that might have been


I listened to my pride


When my heart cried out for you


Now every day I wake again


In a house that might have been


A home

And you know
what? It’s not just me, either. (Note: names will be
changed for the sheer sake of anonymity.) My friend Kat has been
dating a guy, Paulo, and was thinking that things were going really
well, and that she was finally falling in love and headed toward a
serious relationship. That is, until she got the “It’s not you,
it’s me. I have issues. Let’s take a break,” speech.
My friend Lena fellhead-over-heels for her piano tuner, who was,
at the time, in a long-term relationship, until his girlfriend said
“Marry me or I’m leaving you.” You’re now thinking that the sad
part of the story is that he married her. Nope. He
didn’t.The girlfriendleft, and he confessed that he
was crazy about Lena. And then he told her he was going on tour
as the on-call tuner for a big-name orchestra. For a year.
And of course there’s my friend whose husband cheated on her with a “younger
woman” — and she’s only twenty-three!!! The divorce was
finalized last month.

Is it just that season? Have we segued from spring flings and
puppy love, through summer romances, into preparation for
hibernation? As the leaves start to change in a blaze of glory
before withering and falling to be trampled underfoot, are our hearts
following suit? Will we go out in a season of exquisite
heartbreak, with the reds of bleeding hearts, the purples of bruised
egos, the yellows of cowardice, and the browns of depression? It
would make for abare winter.

I used to have “hermit phases”. Perhaps I will go into hibernation.

But don’t you worry about me, friends. I’ll be fine. I’ll
make music out of it all. If I do end up hibernating all winter,
I’ll emerge in the spring rested and refreshed, ready for budding
love. For now, I have to say, it has been so bloody hot lately,
that the prospect of it being cold enough to burrow under my comforter
and dream sounds blissfully appealing.

Bring on the winter! I think I can handle snowy solitude.

(P.S. For those of you who aren’t familiar, the above-referenced song
is “A Home” by the Dixie Chicks. It has exquisite harmony.
I recommend listening to it.)

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