So, interestingly enough, a recent heartbreak/breakup has inspired me to start writing more. Everything can become a story, and in this way we can process deep pain and turn it into art. As writers, we store away story ideas and sometimes find them later. This is what happened to me today, as I was wandering around in the computer files and opened a folder full of little bits and starts that I had forgotten about. I came upon this writing exercise, and did not even get it until I got to the end. Using every letter of the alphabet, create a short story with a sentence starting with each letter, in order.
Coiincidentally, this story was about a breakup I had roughly seven years ago, thus lending me a bit of perspective on my currently mangled heart.
And here it is, A – Z:
And this is what I wanted. But it is not how I thought it would feel. Can it really be the end? Dreaming of you nonstop, your hands on my hips, your succulent full lips and eyes of two colors, cheeks with the scarred ghost of adolescent acne that you hate and I love, your voice that ranges from dusky baritones when you whisper to me in bed to high and squeaky when animated in conversation; all this I can’t seem to live without. Even the things that annoyed me I now miss. For example, your inability to see a mirror or even window- any reflective surface – without preening. God, you are such a peacock. How about your change in personality when your daughter wants anything at all? Idiotic. Just buy her a tiara and a castle and get it over with.
Keep it as is, you begged. Like I could not want more? Many tears were shed in those months, the dream that I can’t forget: we study a map together. Negotiating. Odd detail of a protractor, the pointy part stuck down on your town, and the tiny pencil drawing a circle around it. Perhaps I could move to one of these towns, still have you, but stay out of your inner circle. Quite ridiculous. Ridiculously sad.
So I strayed in the end, with someone who – amazingly – showed interest in me, the rejected woman. Took this young beautiful man to my bed. Unaware that somehow, across the distance, you would know. Very surprised and touched that you cried. Weeks before our planned breakup date. Extraneous, just slightly out of the scheduled order. You now feel that was why we ended, and I feel cheated by the way you’ve twisted things around. You get to feel righteous. Zen moment for me.