Elephant Graveyard

Lately I've been feeling like an old elephant. Yes, since the break-up, I've gained a couple pounds, but that's not what I mean. I'm also not suggesting that my "trunk" is enormous and sometimes drags on the ground. I'm referring to the common held myth that when an elephant knows it's going to die, he/she meanders into the forest away from prying eyes, to curl up among the skeletons of former friends, lovers, family members and well... die. Maybe when the elephant first feels sick the other elephants were there for it, patting his/her back with an extended trunk, listening to the sick elephant talk about the aches and pains of getting older. I'm sure the pack dipped their heads. Began to grieve.

But somewhere along the way, sick Dumbo gets a bit embarrassed. He/she doesn't want the others to witness his incontinence, blubbering and goes into the woods to die. I've been bopping between the house I bought with Michael and friends' apartments. It's been quite a show but I'm ready to hide and let this thing die. I'm emotionally incontinent and the blubbering has just begun so it's a good time to curl up with a few that have been here before me and ride it out.

I've never been dumped before. Go big or go home I guess. Turns out the first time I get dumped is by the guy I basically married. There is something so stinging in the phrase: I will always love you. I'm just not in love with you. I would rather have heard him say, "I'm actually a woman" or "my penis just fell off and I can't love you without it." I also would have preferred his death. I don't prefer he were dead. I just mean that the hardest part about being dumped isn't being without the person, it's that they are choosing to be without you.

However, there are so many times throughout the day when I just want to tell him something. I have a hang nail. I got a new job. I just pooped a lot. Lunch didn't set well with me. I have gas. I love you.

I tried telling myself these things but for some reason my inner voice won't congratulate my bowel movements. I am getting a slight echo when I tell myself "I love you", but I'm sure that's just the emptiness. I tried to get frisky with myself the other night but was shot down, so I guess that's pretty much the same. Some consistency is helpful.

So the first stop on my new road is kind of quiet. Friends are funny and supportive but they won't brush their teeth and discuss their day with me while I'm on the toilet. I'm grieving the closeness I guess, the familiarity, the comfort. When someone seems so much an extension of yourself that you know what their gas is going to smell like and you don't mind it, even half enjoy it like you might your own on a cold winter night when the burrito finally starts to break down and you stick your head under the covers, thinking, that's what I smell like on the inside. I knew him inside and out I guess you could say and even the stinky stuff didn't bother me.