I need to write about therapy in more detail, but I’m a bit short of words. So here is just a snippet of our phone call on Friday; a phone call a mere 46hours after I left her because my heart is broken into a million pieces and she is the only place I feel safe. I wonder if they teach you at counselling school that you need to be prepared to become the singular anchor that someone has, the only grounding place in the tornado of the rest of their life. Or do they just teach them phrases like, “and how does that make you feel?”, is the rest learnt by feel and just being born with a heart that can love others enough to be that support? Anyway, I digress.
So on Friday I had my first proper heartbreak day and stayed in my PJs and watched Thumbelina, and reruns of How I Met Your Mother. Thumbelina really reminds me of being young so I was quite excited to watch it and regress for a bit, but it actually really fucked me off. It’s a stupid story about a ditzy girl who falls in love, and their love overcomes everything and then they all live happily ever after. It should be romantic, but it’s not. It’s stupid. The prince gets frozen alive for crying out loud, then comes back to life. It’s bullshit and I cannot believe we teach children such lies. Stories don’t always have happy endings.
It’s full of stupid lyrics like;
You’re sure to do impossible things,
If you follow your heart.
You’re sure to fly on magical wings,
When you follow your heart!
Oh, that is very nice, nes pas?
And I like what it is saying.
It is saying follow your heart,
and nothing is impossible!
Let me be your wings
Let me be your only love
Let me take you far beyond the stars
Let me be your wings
Let me lift you high above
Everything we’re dreaming of will soon be ours
Anything that you desire
Anything at all
Everyday I’ll take you higher
And I’ll never let you fall
Well I’m sorry, strange singing sparrow and prince with the you’re-worth-it hair, that’s all just crap. Following my heart has left me homeless, broke and alone. Letting him lift me up has left me dropped from a great height, abandoned, hurting and with sore ribs from crying.
“I can’t believe the lies we teach children,” I said to T, “teaching them that happy ever afters exist when they definitely don’t. It’s lies.”
“Fairytales teach us about hope,” replied T, “and there is still hope for you.”
I cannot tell you how much I wanted to hug her for still keeping the faith, because I have none whatsoever. I hope she’s right. I’m so desperate for my happy ever after. But right now I feel more like Thumbelina freezing and alone in the old shoe, than I do Thumbelina marrying her prince.