Lately it’s been quiet in my place. I’m amazed by how only a week can feel like a lifetime after ending a half-year relationship with the person I was convinced I loved. The red pillow on the other side of my memory foam mattress hasn't been touched, the non-slam toilet seat in my bathroom is permanently up and the only article of clothing that remains folded in my apartment are the green pajama bottoms she borrowed last time she was here.
There is no longer a need for a mutually accepted group to be played on my record console; the more sultry romantic sounds of Elysian Fields, Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66, Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds soundtrack have been replaced with the more discordant melodies and raucous noises from Joy Division, Igor Stravinksy and Chet Baker. A new tone has prevailed underneath my spacious ceilings, not a tone of vivacious spirit or luminous activity, but one of concord and settled reconciliation. All these lofty words are used to cover up sorrow with a big cheeky grin because now I can expand my mind opposed to my heart. Oh, who am I kidding?
Love is supposed to look past upset, facilitate compromise, and ultimately give us the ability to accept the hell on earth it can create because after all, it is what we strive for. Well, that’s what modern music suggests anyway. Unless of course, we are listening to Lady Gaga who would most likely suggest a bad romance, with disease, as long as it’s free. I would have to disagree with the current pop diva and deciding living in terror wasn’t for me.
Being alone gives me the space to indulge into the things that truly interest me. My passions may possibly lead to attracting other girls when the time is right. My mother asked if there was any heartache. I reluctantly said no. Reluctant only because I can't deny I still think about her. Being severed from the hip connection for months with someone can’t be ailed overnight.
There is no soma holiday from the cruel reality of being ugly and alone. In a week, I've already butchered my hair with a drastic haircut, made an out-of-character decision (you should have seen me walk into the student government association’s formal meeting at my college to become a senator, it was just like when Jake Sully’s avatar initially came into the Na'vi tribe’s camp.) Still, my mind is at conflict when I reflect on our relationship. She made me feel like the villain at the end but whenever I start to regret my decision, I realize how selfish she was and I know I did the right thing. No one needs to be in a relationship where unnecessary dramatics arise instead of logical resolutions.
So, on this Valentine's Day as I gobble through red velvet guilty pleasures by my lonesome, consider to yourself (for if you do so out loud you may lose your significant other anyway) if all the troubles your lover puts you through is worth your while. After all, you could be listening to whatever you want on that online radio station you fancy, not worrying about picking them late at night up or driving them about, and maybe you could even become a senator with all the free time you would have. Oh, and don't forgot, you wouldn’t have to share those bittersweet chocolate kisses.