When I'm newly single, I get the sensation of being unhinged. Not mentally--although, ok, there's that too. But this almost physical feeling of losing my grip. Where once I was tethered to someone who held me steady in this crazy world, I'm now flung back out into it, hurtling off the rollercoaster with nothing to hang on to. It's a sensation that stings more keenly after the loss of something long-term, naturally. But sometimes even after something short, a month or two, maybe even just a few dates with someone you really connected with--even then, you mourn the promise of something true. Someone who would listen to you recount last night's crazy dreams. Someone who would eat your yellow Skittles and let you have all the red ones. Someone who loved wine as much as you do and talked about trips to Sonoma while sharing his favorite Nebbiolo vintage. Someone who made you coffee and let you cry with no judgment after a bad day at work. Memories of pillow whispers and futures (city, not suburbs; kids, maybe later; east coast, always) that made you think--here is someone to hold onto. And here, I hope, is someone who can hold me.
But quickly it comes, a harsh yank. Or maybe it is a slow, wretched tug-of-war, like the rope between the two of you being sawed with a butter knife. Either way, you're flying back out into space, a dizzying arena you'd nearly forgotten existed. And now what?
Eventually you remember: your mom will listen to your crazy dreams. Your oenophile coworker will take you to a wine bar. Your best friend will gchat you with encouragement and cat pictures when the day seems too much to bear. And slowly you begin to re-tie your bonds. Maybe not just the one, large and strong, but many tiny ones that will keep you grounded. And now, at least for a little while, the whispers of futures will have to be your own.
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