When your heart is in love, you’re floating; weightless.
But when you lose that love, you have to re-enter the atmosphere.
And it can get pretty rough.
Cause you’re just bouncing off one molecule and onto the next,
Rippin’ through them at such a pace that they just ignite and explode.
Until you find another heart that’s doing the same thing.
Has landed and cooled.
And then you start to float again.
I was watching a video of Jim Carrey creating art and he spoke these beautiful broken hearted words. They really landed with me. I’ve been musing over the experience of having intimacy and then no intimacy. I spent a wonderful weekend in Wales with friends where we shared some gorgeous moments, holding each other in our vulnerability, our sadness, our joy, our fears, our insecurities, our longing and also received a generous amount of cuddles. That depth of sharing and connection makes me feel completely floaty and nourished. Returning home I experienced a rapid intimacy come-down. I stopped floating, re-entered the atmosphere and the world became less soft, I felt disconnected. I yearned for emotional and physical intimacy which lead to a longing for relationship, which overwhelmed me and so I covered these feelings of aloneness up with sugar. The experience of receiving intimacy and then no intimacy is uncomfortable, it makes my heart feel closed and I question whether the high is worth the low. Love is indeed like an addictive drug, even the love between a group of friends. I sat with these feelings this morning and directed my outward longing inwards and I came back to myself. Landing and cooling alone in my space.
Photo by Bart LaRue on Unsplash
