Cry me a River

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Today was the funeral of a friend.  It was someone I liked a lot who fell in a place where normally no one falls, but he’d also used up all of his nine lives a long time ago.

The funeral was really lovely.  They played some of the songs he had recorded, and two of his friends played music as well.  It was full of love. I saw dozens of people who I love and care about, and hated that it’s only occasions like this that bring us all together. And I cried, because I had the excuse.

Yesterday I started seeing a new therapist.  I cried nearly the whole hour.  It was awful and good at the same time.  After I went for a swim, even though it was early evening and I really needed to eat something and go to bed. I cried in the pool but it was washed away with chlorine.

I’ve been so sad about the end of my marriage, and the fact that my ex-cop lover is never going to be a boyfriend, and the idea that I don’t even know what I would constitute a boyfriend for me at this point in my life.  And I keep crying.

The therapist is good.  I know that I have the answers inside of myself, but I need to hear the what I know on the inside from someone else’s mouth from time to time. She lets me cry, and tells me that it will stop someday.  I know that it will, but I need to hear it.  I need to know that this is going to stop some day. That the pain, which I can’t even identify, is going to let up.

And I keep crying…..knowing it will stop, but not knowing when….

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