I have comfort movies like other people have comfort foods.
Cold Mountain and Garden State got me through 4 months of severe depression after a mid term miscarriage.
Silver Linings Playbook and Beautiful Creatures always flood me with this fervent hope and contentment in the last 90 seconds. 90 minutes of build to a satisfying crescendo.
I say this next part without irony, and I have admitted it before, but the Twilight movies are among them.
This is not a source of pride or the opening for an argument.
I know the implications and the anti feminist under and overtones.
It just is what it is.
Is Edward creepy af? Oh ya.
Do I want to taste/experience an iota of that steadfast decisiveness and commitment. Also, ya.
She is so awkward and weird, and he wants her anyways.
He just decides she is his human and that is that., no waffling, no bullshit. I mean he leaves in the next movie and gets all broody while she engages in risky behavior, but it works out in the end and for 3 more movies and another book series.
No one ever decides on me and it fucking sucks. Or they do decide on me and they change their mind, which sucks so much harder.
I am left remembering unbridled enthusiasm and 9 invitations to move. And my heart makes Bella’s New Moon nightmare noises in my chest.
New moon in a few days.
I blew the full moon.
Whoops.
I woke up with determination and a lot of venom. By the end of a very long day, it had waned. I wasn’t even mad anymore, nor sad, just numb.
And that scares me beyond reason and explanation, but I am kinda numb about that too. What the actual fuckity fuck.
Full wolf moon in cancer. 3 planets in retrograde including my papa mercury, patron saint of love mama venus and neptune god of all things salty, including the tears i cannot seem to muster.
Praying by Ke$sha came on my spotify list this morning.
Poignant song. Most likely from 2017 because this is all just a little bit of history repeating.
(yep, I checked)
It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong. But I remember all the basic sheeple people just gushing about how deep it was, how emotional, how brave. Yes, it was those things but have you ever heard 10 000 Days by Tool? Probably not.
And of course I put it on, I don’t know why I thought I could get through it without bawling. I didn’t.
I digress.
They’re both break up songs for me.
I remember going out into the backyard of my Margueretta Street house on a snowy New Year’s eve and burning a 2007 calendar. The entire year was absolute shit. I remember the power welling up from inside of me, as kidlet and I both let out primal screams in the dark. I felt like very bit of angst, panic and sadness exited my body and dissipated in the smoke and flames
For 11 days I was as light as a feather. I really felt like I was going to be okay.
Please sir, can I have some more? 1000 days in the fire was more than enough. I want to go home.
Everything would have been fine. I was healing and dealing. The shooting happened at the club I worked at. We weren’t allowed to leave until the wee hours of the morning. I was tired and sad and I let ex hubby back in the house which led to 3 more years in perdition.
That is the history I would like to not repeat, the things I want to learn from.
If it is done, let it be done. Don’t linger.
I need a good epic scream and cry, but I can’t seem to muster it. Me, the girl who cries. Did I leave my tears in Newfoundland, I cried so often there it became notable when I didn’t. Even at Hamilton Strip a couple of girls woul;d do a mental health check before dancing to songs they knew might trigger me.
And Brian, also in NL, would tell someone to grab me and hug me when he played “The Funeral” by Band of Horses. I always thought that was sweet. It didn’t occur to me until much later that he could have just skipped the fucking song.
I started writing this article the morning of the full moon. We had an epic snowstorm and I had to modify my ritual. Well, that is an excuse. All the anger and angst I had u[pon waking up dissipated throughout the day. Roommate took the day off work and we did a boudoir photo shoot for her and she was so giddy, it rubbed off on me a bit and all the venom I had just went away.
I ended up asking for broken chains and peace instead of emphatically cutting the cord like I meant to.
There will be other moons.
I have watched New Moon enough times that I am immune. She wails and I don’t anymore.
But, I watched Silver Linings Playbook the other day and…nothing. That scared me. Scared me enough that I almost want to see what happens with The Notebook and Cold Mountain.
Who am I now? What the fuck happened?
I broke, not in a cute submissive way, and I didn’t get put back together this time.
I think all of the old hurts prepared me somewhat for this one. I know I have survived everything that was meant to kill me before. I was heart broken before I even knew my heart or what love really was. I think the shredded brokenness of losing Giant and Hulk a couple years apart and being able to maintain friendships with them were crucial in surviving this. We were kindred after all, still are. I learned how to love without possession and ego, the hard way.
Am I crying now, not really. But I have cried before, and this is the third or 4th time this has ended in a less than spectacular manor. At least I am home this time, instead of in another country sequestered in a shitty hotel room processing the death of a family member and the cruel words of someone who was supposed to love me. The only person who ever really loved me. Or at least that is what I thought.
Well, shit…
The venom is back and I have no waning moon to give it to.
