In 2015, I went through a really tough break-up. I will spare you the details. Yet, I am thankful for a process I discoverd during this difficult time, which helped me tremendously: writing. So simple and so effective. When I was overcome by emotions, or when there was something I desperately would have liked to tell my ex-partner, I sat down and wrote: Letters, Poems, Stuff. What came out of it was simply amazing and so liberating.
Often, I would write with my left hand, which is my non-dominant hand. In these moments, it felt like there were words coming from a different place beyond myself and my usual understanding.
This process, really, REALLY helps. Sit down, get a piece of paper – anything will do – and a pen, use the "wrong hand" and just let the words come. I can almost promise you, you will be
suprised.
- If you cannot sit down immediately when the emotions arise, schedule a date with yourself for later.
I will now share my first text with you.
THAT NIGHT
Do you remember that
night?
We went out
dancing
It
was
my
night.
We were
celebrating.
Except you forgot
I was next
to you
when you
were busy
making
friends with the
brothers
in suits.
You don’t usually like the brothers
here in
Germany.
You think
they are
not
decent.
But those
ones were different.
Those
ones
wore
suits
and they
came
through the
VIP entrance.
Remember that
night
you had
drinks
even
though
you know I get
worried
when you do
that.
You know I
know
your emotions can get you
in trouble
with
booze.
Remember that
night we had
so much
fun
dancing.
You
complimented me
on the
improvements I had
worked on making
to share your dance
with you for the
first time
in two
years.
Then later
that night
you
changed.
That guy we
met –
you thought
I had been with
and I
have, but who
cares?
We were
not together at
that time!
You like to say
“I’m not a
jealous guy.”
but your
face
tells a
different story.
Remember that night
you didn’t want to let me
sleep at
your place
even
though you
knew
I was in need?
That moment I
realized
there is more.
Then that night
becomes a blur.
Your upset
talking
your pacing
up and down the hallway
scare
me.
I want to
leave,
but
you don’t want
me to.
You
become manipulative.
You
start a power
game
I
am destined
to
lose.
I
scream
– you
–
on top of
me covering my
mouth.
Me
scared
I know in
this moment
it’s over.
Later that
night
you spat in
my face.
you
gathered so much spit
in your big
mouth
it was all
over me
smelling.
Disgusting.
That
moment
I stopped
feeling.
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to do that when we break up.”
I hear you
say.
You tried so hard you
say.
–
Really?
This
is how hard
you tried?
You spit at me again.
Your face full of arrogance
and
fear.
A hurt little boy
confused,
in
rage
throws
himself on my bike
like a mad
man.
I
scream
until
you let go
–
I
know
screaming is
the only way
to make
you stop.
I hear you call after me.
“Looser bitch!”
Do you remember that night?
I forgive.
I don’t
forget.
You still believe you
say
the next
day.
I don’t.
Namasté
Friederike
Kommentar schreiben