Metamorphosis

I have a thought in my head that I can't get rid of. It might be that in the face of my life's most recent events, it's something that's been weighing heavily on my mind, who knows. But writing always gives me a great opportunity to sort out my thoughts, analyze them, and then recreate them if they don't make sense.


That said, what follows is a pretty big revelation to ME, but it might seem like common sense for most others. If you're one of those most people, pardon my ignorance. I was homeschooled.


Breakups suck. They feel almost as though someone split your skull and then continued ripping you in half from the top down,  and then threw away one of the halves when they were finished. It just makes you feel all awkward and off balance. Like you only have one hand to do the work that two usually does. Amiright?


They suck, and being a person who's had to go through what I believe is far more than what my share of breakups should be (that's not a cry for pity, trust me), I'm in the process of trying to come up with a way to make them suck less. Not only would it benefit me, I could be like the woman who found the cure for....relational cancer.
However, I don't actually think I can come up with a way to make them completely absent of any suckiness whatsoever, because if that were the case, I don't think the breakup would actually exist. Like in a perfect, sucky-less world, there would be no breakups, everyone would be with their one and only other half, and they'd all be happy. And the fact that a breakup would break up that perfect little idealistic existence would just make it suck. I'm ranting!


BREAKUPS SUCK!!!!


But it was at this train of thought as I was laying on my back on my living room floor that I realized that they shouldn't suck so much. Like, why is it that they're so fearfully dreaded? I feel like they're almost equated to having one's Mom die, which is just suckiness epitomized. What I realized (after I realized that they shouldn't suck so much) is that almost always (I apologize to the exceptions out there) do they open up a door for something so much better to happen, that couldn't have happened had the breakup NOT happened, you get what I'm saying? It's like the caterpillar to butterfly metamorphosis process... remember when you were a kid and you nabbed caterpillars and put the poor souls in a glass jar on your kitchen counter? You watch that pretty little caterpillar for a while until one day it's like "OMG WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PRETTY CATERPILLAR, he's all wrinkly and brown now and all wrapped up in that nasty sack and ...gross he just looks like poop!" (well at least that was my reaction). But I know at least I, as a child, liked the pretty orange and black butterflies even more than I liked the striped yellow caterpillars, and so all ended well and I wasn't upset for too long. Moral of the story, Sir Butterfly had to look like poop for a while before he could look better, which is what I feel my love like looks like. It goes through definite stages of poop, but each time it does, it takes a tiny step toward something better.


So you know when you were little and you started realizing that this is what always happens with cocoons, and then you started getting excited for the nasty wrinkly little sack to appear? Well, I'm not saying we should get excited for breakups because if I did, I'd get boo-ed offstage. What I'm saying is there should be at least a glimmer of hope as we fight our way through the breakup and start looking for the butterfly.


That's all.