Worst Nights of my Life

So, I think last night (April 22nd) was in the top 3 worst nights of my life, at least emotionally. It’s kind of a tossup between whether I would put it second or third, but the other night is related as well so I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just like classifying and quantifying as a way to try and get a handle on my emotions. I don’t know if she’ll be offended that it wasn’t the worst night of my life, but the second/third time around it is inherently a little easier. I’ve survived it once. I know I can survive it again. And as with anything that breaks, every time you put it back together there is less of the original material left to reassemble. So I guess inherently each heart-break should be easier than the previous one.

I managed to hang in and not shut down. Which is a big change from a year ago. So I guess that is something. I’m still struggling quite a bit today with the temptation to just shutdown and go numb, but I’m winning so far.

I had started writing a sort of poem / possible blues song a little while ago, but got stalled after just two verses. It started out as a response to some song I heard on the radio where they were talking about wanting to feel the pain. I tried to force fit a third verse but it just wouldn’t gel. I finished up a first draft in the shower this morning. 3 and 6 are the original parts. It has been a long time since I tried to write any poetry, probably not since the poetry class I took during my last semester of college.

I’ve never really tried to write a melody before, and it keeps ending up too close to an existing Warren Zevon song (Mr Bad Example) when I sing it in my head. And lest anyone call for an intervention, while the last verse is a temptation, it is not one I have succumbed to.

I go to work each morning
And try to concentrate
But in my mind I’m wondering
Who’ll show up to take my place

I come home in the evening
And ask how your day went
All I can do is listen
And guess about the taint

I wake up at midnight
And reach for where you'd be
But you're off with somebody else
Who’s more like you than me

I get up in the morning
And wait to turn my head
Reluctant to look over
Lest you’re not in my bed

I repeat this painful cycle
For days and weeks and months
Until the ache grows too intense
And blankets my whole soul

I crawl inside a bottle
It’s distant and contained
And I'd rather be feeling numb
Than feeling all this pain