Crack

I have the music from Link's house on Outset Island in Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, where Granny is heartbroken, stuck in my head at the moment, which I suppose is apropos because that sad, slow dirge is very much how I am feeling right now.

I had a much rougher day of things than I'd expected.  K has been on my mind endlessly, an ephemeral ghost perched on my shoulder, intangible yet crushing me beneath his weight, hovering always over me no matter where I am and what I am doing.  The almost careless detachment is pain beyond imagining.  I am beginning to detect a very strong vibe from him that he just wants me to shut up and go away...that he is regretting being nice to me and saying that he had no intentions of "vanishing" on me.

What on Earth did I do to deserve this?  Why did this relationship, to which I gave my best and my all, end the same way as the others where I wasn't even trying?  I still don't think K has even an inkling how deeply and thoroughly he was loved and appreciated.  If he ever read even a miniscule sampling of my LiveJournal entries, his heart would probably shatter.  He told me once, not that long ago, that no one had ever loved him as I had.  I pray, for his sake, that that is not true for the rest of his life.

I went to my favorite, extremely expensive store at the mall today, and somehow managed to not buy anything.  (The lack of sale items or other items in my size helped.)  I am finally (and not a moment too soon) realizing that the purchase of material goods, no matter how wonderful, will not plug up the holes in my heart or take the pain away.  I knew this rationally, of course, but emotionally, it was a different matter.  Many a time, all it takes to stop myself from salivating over some $98 pair of pants is to tell myself, "shut up and go meditate."

And meditate I have been.  I use an app on my Android phone to both time and record my sessions, and the log indicates that the sessions have really been piling up.  I usually meditate two or more times per day now, not including any meditative segments of the yoga DVDs I use.  Yoga comes in two or more sessions also, on most days.

Something interesting I noticed the other day was that, after I had gone most of the day with neither, I felt unsettled, uneasy, unmoored.  It was like some part of me -- my body, my mind, my heart, I know not which -- was craving an anchor, either on my yoga mat or parked nearby on a pillow with my phone at my side, quietly ringing its bells to start and stop.  It seems that the two methods I have selected to try to usher me through the heartache of losing K are rapidly integrating themselves into my life such that I readily notice their occasional absence.  I am unclear on if this is a good or a bad thing, but I know, at least, that these are better things from which to be experiencing withdrawal than drugs, alcohol, random hookups, or other unhealthy habits.  Maybe these current habits will stick with me, this time.

I still haven't found the strength to perform any heart-opening poses, known to be difficult for those suffering from emotional trauma.  I hope I can soon; my chest feels tight, closed, locked down to shut even well-meaning souls like K out forever.

I wonder if he is reading this.  I wonder if he knows.