hello, hello, i don’t know why you say goodbye

red sauce in white ceramic bowl
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

We drift into a life, a gentle circle

Rounding on a friend or distant love

We thought would always be around.

But winds can blow and take control

And soon these people form a line,

A snaking queue into a hazy past.

That queue is what you’re made of now;

Those awful byes that hurt so much

I thought I couldn’t take another breath,

But that has healed and now I’m left

With just the trickle of a stream

That makes me joyous as I wade a little further back.

I was flicking through Twitter today and I came across a line that somebody had written and it really resonated with me. This man said ‘life is just a series of hellos and goodbyes’.

I have wrecked several relationships and friendships, especially over the time that I was drinking a lot. I couldn’t regulate my feelings and I would say things that I didn’t mean. When I had calmed down, I felt so ashamed of what I had said, I would retreat and never want to see that person again. It wasn’t hate that broke down those relationships, it was that burning shame that totally consumed me.

I do often think about the people, especially the ones that really meant something to me, and I wonder if their absence is my punishment. But looking at life as a series of hellos and goodbyes really soothese those wounds.

It has helped me to realise that everyone has these people drifting in and out of their lives. This isn’t something that is unique to my life. I need to see it as part of the story that makes up the person called Rachel.

Much Love

Rachel xx

is it sad that i can’t remember love?

It’s addictive, apparently; bottled up

It could be sold in basements under shops,

Dark and seedy places people only go

When they’re desperate, in need.

Coming off the stuff is hard, I did it once,

I was in my early twenties when it crushed

My bones, my organs too.

I was sensible enough

To never try again.

But now I realise, I’ve lived a life

In shadows that were self imposed, not needed.

I couldn’t tell you why I let it run this long,

This shunning of a person I can love.

I guess I’m scared of something quite that strong

Flooding through my veins,

Rendering me blackout drunk

And living in those seedy basement shops.

Is it really sad that I can’t remember what love feels like? I got hurt when I was young and I had Noah and I just seemed to decide that I was never going to put myself through that again. And I know it’s because I’m scared but I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want to get hurt again, or because I’m scared of getting addicted.

I know people who have that addictive personality that I have and they hop from one relationship to another; it’s as though they crave that early part of the relationship that is intoxicating and euphoric.

People say that if you were to bottle that feeling and sell it you would make a fortune. I’ve been addicted to something that comes in a bottle before and that really did end in tears. I just worry about opening myself up to that kind of risk again.

Much Love

Rachel xx