Bleak mornings and breakup music
I miss you most in the morning
Most every morning, I wake up thinking
I could call, I could come visit
I could come running, we could relive it
- Rachael Yamagata, Even If I Don’t
That’s actually one of Rachael Yamagata’s more optimistic breakup songs. Her most notable is Reason Why, a meditation on how things have turned out differently but there’s still a path ahead. Her most frightening is Elephants, a brilliant but difficult listen with literally bloody imagery.
I’m not really in the frame of mind to listen to any of those songs right now, but the one I quoted is in my mind because the first line is so apt. Each day, I’m finding that I can function pretty well in the afternoons and evenings, usually thinking of various positive things I can do. But mornings are a different story.
I wake up anywhere between 4 a.m. and 6:30 a.m. I sometimes wake up earlier, but when that happens, I’m usually able to go right back to sleep. Not after 4. I catch up on YouTube to distract myself, and then I go to the gym, which I often have to myself.
But even in an empty gym, I feel like I’m being mocked. My separation was not a parting of equals. It was a rejection of how I made her feel. She insists it wasn’t because of how I look or how out of shape I am. But for the last few months we were together, she had set up a home gym and worked out like a maniac every single morning. It’s hard not to feel that I’ve been kicked out of an exclusive club of highly motivated attractive people. I feel like I might’ve been able to stay with her if I had been less lazy as the years went by.
When I type it out and look at the words, it seems silly. Intrusive thoughts, though, are my brain’s specialty. I start to wonder how many of the good times were really good times. I hear a song that we liked, and I feel like it’s now a reminder that we don’t share our likes and dislikes any more. It doesn’t help that Facebook’s algorithm is now kicking up thinkpieces about how men over 50 are foundering (or floundering) because women wake up in menopause and realize they don’t really need us around any more.
And mornings are where I have a tough time being patient. I just realized at 8:45 a.m. that I emailed her at 6:45 a.m. I’m also paying too much attention to the dating apps., though in my defense, there are now multiple people showing interest … in due time. I’m not going to have a girlfriend tomorrow, even if I wanted to do that.
I was invited to the annual Christmas get-together at her family’s house. At first, I thought I couldn’t do it. I decided it’d be best to put on my big-boy pants and go see people who love me. It was good. She was great. If you didn’t know what was going on, you’d have no idea. We interacted no differently than we did all the years we were together.
And yet it was so difficult for me. I went to the bathroom multiple times just to gather myself. This was nice, sure, but how many more times would this happen? How long until she has a new partner taking up her attention at these things? Again — another intrusive thought, an unproductive thought, and probably an irrational thought. She’s not interested in a new partner any time soon. She may not date at all for a long time — if ever. She likes being alone better than she likes being with me. That’s the whole point. If she wanted a partner, she may realize she’s not going to do any better than me — someone completely devoted to her with 29 years of shared history. Maybe someone fitter, better-looking or whatever. But once the superficial things wear off, there’s no one better for her than me.
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Also …
I am completely bloody sick of Christmas music.
It’s not great any year. It’s especially tough when you hear all the cloying dreck about being with family, and you’ve just lost yours, aside from a couple of hours for dinner in a crowded house. Baby, please come home. I’ll be home for Christmas — if only in my dreams. Yeah, shut the hell up, please.
And yet in the realm of non-holiday music, there’s no rhyme or reason to which songs I can stomach and which ones I can’t.
I’ve never been able to listen to Coldplay’s The Scientist, especially now that I can make every logical case for us to stay together, and it’s not going to make a difference. That hits way too close to home. Brilliant song. Can’t deal with it.
But Easy On Your Own by Alvvays? Absolutely. If you’ve never heard it, drop everything and listen now. Prepare for chills when Molly Rankin leaps into the upper register after the 2:30 mark.
(Side note: Abbey Blackwell, the bassist in this video, has left the band. Do they still need someone? Should I send in a video somewhere?)
I also stumbled into the old Stabbing Westward song Shame today. Maybe when the guitars are cranked up to that extent, it doesn’t feel like a breakup song? And the video puts things in a completely different light, with the band watching and yet being part of a video with a disturbed man … well, just watch:
It has a happy ending. Maybe this situation will have one, too.
