Never thought there was such a thing until now —
but there is such a thing as good mourning.
Good mourning is immediate and all-consummate — it strips you of your wants and draws the marrow from your needs — I am listless looking for just a moment, just a little inhale, of stillness — I am in good mourning, my love — as you descend into the darkness of winter — good mourning over this side as I remember all the ways that I showed you I loved you, all the ways that I tried to act like how I felt inside — and all the twisted words of untruth just to see the fire in your eyes —
and you couldn’t see me,
maybe couldn’t see me until you’d closed the door behind —
I get it, this is how these things work — when we get the thing that we can’t have we do our best to push it away eventually — both you and me — equals in this story of three — me, you, we — and we are bound to outlast the both of us — this thing that I quite easily can lean into, to trust that I have a love and it never fades, and it is much bigger, MUCH OLDER!
My sweet, I’ve built my world around you and laid myself at your feet. I am a lost child — this is not an analogy —
but I am a mother, too — every day I say to myself “I am enough, there is enough”, and I mean it and I’m starting to believe it,
starting also in my wise old crone to see my part in this running, pushing, pulling that I’ve painted as yours — god, I am sorry darling. I have been afraid — afraid that you’d ask for my undivided attention but never be able to give me yours — not that I’d ask for it — but you have three who need you more than I do — and I have a land that knows all my secret names —
Kurt Vile reminded me that you don’t stand beside me now — you stand inside me —
and the good old birch trees reminded me that we are creatures who know things —
they made a gate for me to step through to the otherworld, but alas, I cannot go yet
for I’ve my work cut out for me here — thank you for showing me.
I thought it would get easier but it isn’t getting easier — it isn’t getting easier though I’m letting you leave with every breath,
wondering what I could have done to show you just how serious I was —
I am a serious, silly woman, Matthew —
and to me this was not some throwaway thing. I said what I said to keep you on your toes — because hurt people hurt people — and now I am alone to lick this wound once and for all, to feel the absolute depths of my aloneness and stand naked against the world with no man to break my fall —
and it is right, in the grand scheme of things;
the ring you made me that I unconsciously took off I’ve put back on, to remind me
of the truth of things —
for this reality is a dream
and the truth is
our souls can never separate —
so we pass together to the otherworld — ride on white horse to Tír na nÓg to bathe in the waters of eternal love
and someday maybe we’ll slip back over, well-rested and watered
wiser and healed of our woes,
and I might just give you my undivided attention —
meet you in a dark café in a strange city — no phone, no map, just faith — and see what twist of fate the road might then take.
