Jason sends me a link to something about Junot Diáz. In the slideshow is the phrase “This is How You Lose Her” and I start to think about love and love lost. To me, it’s a mental image. The moment when someone realizes they have lost someone they love, forever, inexplicably, without reason. It’s when you’ve lost someone who is still standing right next to you. Someone so close to you that you can’t touch. That you could touch just a minute ago. Someone that you’d held and your tears are still pressed into their shirt but now they’re sliding away. Fading out. Backwards treadmill through the front door. That final image imprinted, coming back to you in the most bizarre times. You’re eating your cereal, there she is. Reading the news, there she is. And sometimes you can’t help but make it worse by remembering all on your own.

How do you lose a woman who loves you? Well – if love goes on, it stands to reason that love is never truly lost. Only commitment. Only relationships.

And then, well, does a relationship really end – get lost – or does it simply change into some voided relationship? The lack of relationship, relationship? Are we forever labeled “the girlfriend of so and so” like we still call the former president “Mr. President”? Or does someone else come in and take the title from us, forever and completely, or at least until their time is up too?

How do you lose her? The woman who loves you? What if you don’t love her back? I suppose we can lose something even if we don’t want it anymore, can’t we? We can tuck it away back into the unused parts of our brains, the place where we put things to forget about them, and then one day we realize that we’ve stopped loving. We’ve been going through the motions of loving. We’ve been holding hands and kissing and I love you, have a good day-ing. But is that really love? Or have we given up, thrown up our hands, expiration date.

This is how you lose her: she’s already gone. Shrodingers cat. You open the box and it’s either there, or it isn’t. Love is very much the same way. You never see things as they’re fading, this doesn’t exist. They’re still there. You’ve still got them. She’s with you and you’re with her, but then she’s gone. And you can try to make sense of the series of events that led up to losing her but it will make no more sense than trying to wonder what was in the box before you opened the door.


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