It’s All Happening Quickly and In Real Time

I can feel the roots of the tree in my front yard rotting -

they’re twisting and turning –

they are strangling one-another violently and quickly

I can almost hear their suffering and torment -

This is happening several inches beneath my well-manicured front lawn –

so the neighbors cannot see the blackening of the roots –

I’m wearing a tailored Hugo Boss polo – it’s a beautiful cerulean blue (not exactly sky-blue, but close)

- and Armani shorts – they’re tan – perfectly tan, like the shade of tan that goes well with blue

My neighbor (across the street) walks to her car, smiles, and waves

I grin widely as I shout across (the street) “Have a good day”

I wear designer clothes when I’m sad – when the day is not treating me as smoothly as it could –

Days have feelings too – and they cannot always be happy

I said goodbye to him last night (yeah – the guy I’ve been seeing) –

I said goodbye to him forever –

He is not dead – he’s just not good for me –

So, I said “goodbye”

My psychologist tells me there will be bad days – but I don’t like them –

I don’t like them at all

I don’t want to be masquerading in designer wear as the roots several inches beneath my shoes are rotting.

It feels false. It feels fake.

And I do it very well

I turn to look at the front of my house – and see paint flaking off – in real time (like nature is on fast-forward – what is going on here?)

The paint didn’t flake while he and I were dating –

I painted my magnificent house with fresh paint every day (with brilliant and sparkling jewel tones) –

and I wore casual clothes because I didn’t need to make myself feel better –

because I felt fine and thought I might have been discovering “love” –

I’m still not sure of its definition,

but I know the concept makes me smile – and not in a fake or untruthful way

The weather broadcaster did not predict rain – and I am not ready for it –

Mentally – and I have no umbrella…

The dark clouds (though not overly heavy with blackness) are approaching as I stand on my lawn – listening to the roots beneath my feet twist among themselves and rot

- and I’m watching the house paint flake onto the well-manicured lawn below

“No”, I say aloud.

- and the paint stops flaking off the house, the roots become still, and the dark clouds slowly begin to move in a different direction – away from me

“No”, I say aloud, again – and a bit more forcefully

I’m going to have a not-so-great day – that’s normal when you split from someone you care about –

But I’m not going to drown,

I’m not going to be sucked into a hole of depression,

and I will not re-embrace and whisper into the loving ear of suicide-ideation -

I’m just not going to do it

Everything must remain still, be calm and be (mostly) quiet

– no tornados or otherwise strong winds,

no ground shakes,

and no extra therapy appointments – this is important

I’ve survived tragedy – and this isn’t it

I need to keep this in perspective

I might cry a little… and that’s okay –

I’m going to allow myself to do that

I might cry a little…

And that’s okay

Photo: Jimmy Broccoli