How did you love someone who broke your heart a thousand times? Whatever the explanation is (from trauma-generated self-punishment to pure generosity, aka pure stupidity), your head is what saves you at the end of the day. Not just that. I don’t believe in instant wisdoms – how clever and philosophical they may sound. If someone hasn’t lived the pain and come out winner herself, she is NOT entitled to saying anything beautiful (look, how gender-conscious I am. Haha).
When you compare you tend to contrast, and when you contrast X to Y, X is thicker, sicker, or poorer than Y, and Y is every thing X is not, as if differences determine how you feel about each of them. As if those differences will also result in different ends in relation to you. As if a particular goodbye song suits one of them, and only one of them. You may be surprised to find that, despite differences, results can be the same, and you may wonder why the hell you had loved one more than the other at the first place.
I often associate somebody with a smell, a song, a type of music, a season, even a drink – elements that make me feel the presence of a particular someone in his absence. By manipulation of a certain association, you can actually help yourself revalue people, and it shouldn’t necessarily be a tussle, really.
Let’s say, B is a lightweight compared to A, so the song I’ve associated with him is also a lighter kind. Now, thinking about A, I’m playing B’s goodbye/murder song. This way I put A’s weight down, neutralizing his thick influence in me. I imagine him as an effervescent tablet I dissolve into pure water. I turn his winter into a regular warm day. Feelings and tastes are illusions, and so are my feelings about and for him. History is always written at the expense of the unwritten – so what I selected to feel is there because of what I’d wanted to erase. I unearthed the unwritten about me and him. I made him a living substance with energies – energies that I deactivated.