Ring of Fire

Arrived back home from the Eastside just a bit ago. Had some business out in snowy Snoqualmie, then reconnected with an old grade school friend at her condo in Bellevue. I can neither confirm nor deny the use of a smokable herb and some rounds of wii. Hey, if weed is OK for America's next president, then it damn well better be OK for me. You know, lead by example ...

Anyway, upon arriving home, I gave a shout out to Grace in San Francisco. Sounded like she was cleaning house from top to bottom. She brought up the subject of her most recent ex. I told her, from my perspective, it sounded like she was possibly missing him. Grace didn't seem to think so, at least that's what she was telling herself.

She further explained that no break up has ever felt like this for her. Well, no two break ups are alike, that's for damn sure. Every relationship is so incredibly unique. I assured her it was perfectly normal to miss Moron, that's what I've decided to call him. I mean, honestly, this loser gave up the most incredible woman anyone could ever have the privilege to call friend, let alone lover and soul mate.

Grace and I have both fallen into the burning ring of fire at some point over the past year or two. Of course like any good protagonists, we're so much richer for the experience. Through it all I think we've both discovered how much easier it is not to love than to love. A wise man once told me that, interestingly enough, the story of the little mermaid is the perfect tale of what love is like. The real story involves much pain. After the mermaid transforms into a human woman, each step she takes is like walking on razor blades. Her tongue is removed, rendering her unable to speak. After all her mortal sacrifice, the handsome prince ran off and married a land princess ...

WTF! That story sucks. The truth in the story is that there is pain associated with love, especially when lovers part ways.

While Grace was convinced for a while she had made safe passage from the initial pain, I think she's experiencing a throb. It's like stubbing one's toe. At first, a breakup really jolts a person. Then perhaps for a spell one doesn't feel anything. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, this profound ache sets in, then fades ... then comes back, perhaps this time less severe, then fades ... and so on, like a throbbing wound.

Longing, pining (pining is fucking lame!), sadness, remorse, regret - all these feelings surface during the throbbing. It's all part of coming out the other side of the "ring of fire."

I'll tell ya something, it's enough to make one not want to fall back into that burning ring. As humans who need love to justify existence, we cannot help ourselves ...