Rapture Me Tomorrw

“I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another… but I don’t want it to stay that way.” Drawn early in my first year of college, I wanted to include this drawing as a point of reference for what I was creating from feeling then, and what it means to me now. The same as the fight against being leeched from in ‘Although We’re Incompatible,’ and the journey of unloving in ‘Inconsistency is Key’ this drawing is constructed on a foundation of dwelling on what cannot be, and spending time on what I cannot control.

I remember reading a lot when the heartbreak first happened - of poetry, books, essays, album reviews - anything that could possibly say the words to fill the gaping hole in my chest. This quote, added from a long blogpost, spoke to my desire to cling to what was lost, and some days still does. When the heartbreak first happened (and when I cannot hear myself think through the stimulus floating in my mind) I searched for control in the only ways I was familiar with. Because I had no control or ownership over the pain I felt.

“If I am going to hurt, then it should at least be because I caused it” I can recall saying over and over in my head. I refused to eat and walked miles that ate through my empty stomach. In 6 weeks I became a skeleton with heavy black circles under my eyes - but I had achieved an exhaustion great enough to fall asleep on command instead of cry.

The art from that time period is all dark, gaunt, celebratory of self-destruction, and important. It took a long time to learn to be kind to myself as a form of control - to run a hot bubble bath and eat enough good food to breathe steadily and stand with my head held high.

While I still find myself guiltily, selfishly, hoping that Big Love will return, and return to stay - I have confidence in my ability to survive, even thrive in its absence. Slowly but surely, I let go of restrictive control on myself, and chose to use control in ways that could ADD to rather than LIMIT my life. Instead of a malnourished nap at the threat of tears, I put on running shoes; instead of a habit of ibuprofen and bottomless coffee to numb the headaches and aching joints leftover from adolescent athleticism, I flow through yoga practice, breathe deeply, stretch regularly, and spend time wrapped in heat and ice.

And when the emotion demands to be felt in all its fullness - I give it space and time to wash over me, and I turn it into art. I decided that I am allowed to make myself feel better - mind and body.

And I know exactly how.