Emotional Warrior

I have always valued the strength of my emotional reactions.  I feel everything so deeply.  I cry a lot, but I laugh even more.  I am happy more than I am sad.  Although I get frustrated at manic fluctuations from hour to hour, I believe the intensity of the highest highs can only ever be the same as the intensity of the lowest low.  Rather than pushing pain away, I eat it with gusto, swallowing down the scratching edges and squeezing the nourishment out.

As such I find myself shaken regularly and aggressively by my emotions, an icily intoxicating cocktail of rainbow colours.

It makes for an interesting life.

Take, for example, my recent break-up with Mike. Yes, it happened. 

We realise that we needed to be in different physical spaces.  He is no longer fulfilled doing anything other than his music, and his music has started taking me to places I have no reason to be.

Rather than continue to hold each other back, we plan our parting to coincide with a visit home for Christmas.

Our last week in the States is spent honouring our relationship, toasting it with friends, reassuring ourselves it is the right thing to do, and crying into each other's arms at the bizarreness of life's gifts. 

We release each other in late November, exactly a year from when I first flew out from Heathrow.  From the moment the decision is made, until a couple of weeks after we part, I feel it all intensely.  Every day I wake up with a new head full of thoughts, and every night I sleep lightly, dreaming of the revelations of the morning to come.

The Mind Fishermen hook me more frequently, raping my thoughts unabashedly.

There is indeed nothing like a break-up for philosophical reflection.  And yet I write nothing.

Despite the shock of having half of me ripped away, I am happy.  It is self-mutilation.  I am the warrior, trapped under a boulder, forced to cut off my own arm in order to survive.  I know that the decision is the right one.  I had always known it, really.  But I had seen it through and learnt the lessons, and for that I am proud.

But it hurts.  My emotional cocktail shaker blends me, and the Fishermen taste me.

Iced Heart Indigo, Loathing Lime.

Lonely White.

I do the time.  I feel the things I need to feel.  I meet each emotion head on, exploring it, accepting it, letting it go.

Anticipation Amber.

And then, I am fine.  Totally fine.

I shock myself by how quickly I am fine.

December comes and Great Britain turns white.  The snow falls around me, erasing the dirt of London town and the mud of my mind, and I feel enormous.

I am surrounded by friends and I can't believe it.  They are MY friends!  I can talk to them whenever I want!  Gone are the days of relying on one other person for all my emotional needs.  Gone are the days of the lonely hotel room, writing emails to faceless people who no longer need me.  They are here and they love me.  Christmas Crimson envelops me.

And my family.  They are close enough to touch.  Two sisters, a brother, a father and a cat. 

Emily and I march over Hampstead Heath, past frozen swimming ponds, emerging with armfuls of ivy; a pre-constructed wreath.  I am driven home in my father's carriage of safety, past crunchy rivers and a sunset bonding with the crispy white hills. Wrapped in fairy lights and tinsel by my sister's happy face.  Leaning over the stove, stirring cranberries and cinnamon. A clockwork Santa playing carols in clear, repetitive notes.  A log fire warming my heart more than it has been warmed in years.

I pass a wondrous Christmas surrounded by love.  I give out as much as I can.  Entire relationships are enacted within tiny timeframes.  I flit from place to place, seeing those who matter and not worrying about those who don't.  Cornwall's incredible energy revives me and its seas pummel vibrancy through my veins.  I emerge in frosted glasses, delicious flavours.  Long Walk Rose.  Full Bellied Cream.  December Sunshine Yellow.

On the last day of the year, I cut off six inches of hair.  The split ends and crumpled curls fall thinly to the floor.  My head feels light. 

I swish.

I finish 2010 feeling calm.  I trust myself again.  It worked.  I dealt with it all in real time and emerged righteous.  I felt it all.  The tears were worth it.  My emotions knew what they were up to.

January dawns in ethereal mists, and I can barely see the sea from the window.  The sky is lit with streaks of colour.

Surreal Cerise.  Cosmic Coral.  Triumphant Teal.