When you hear break-up stories and broken hearts from teens and young people, you smile, right? We’ve all been there, and we all know it’s time for grief, and then one day the sun rises again, and a marvelous man/woman enters the room, and here we go again!
Smile. Moving forward. Find your silver lining. Plenty of fishes in the sea, right?
Comes an age when you begin to smile less. You got a cancer, or your husband died stupidly in a car accident, or the woman you wanted to marry chose an Egyptian flea circus trainer – not you!
You’ve been through shit-hits-the-fan tempests before, you know that another dawn will come. Well, you hope it will. Or you don’t know any more…
Giving up is a possibility, and I see so many sixty years old (mainly women, OK) who decided to park their love life that I’m questioning myself. Why not, after all?
Many people will say you’re complaisant – they think of you like you were a teenager, happy clap-your-hands two days after a boyfriend text-break-up. You consider to not even answer : when this happens to you at mid-life, it hurts much, much more. Your capacity of comprehension is much bigger, and this is exactly why you lost your smile : Big Shit happened, your vessel has stopped, all sails tornripped. Your game is on the ground like a dirty puzzle. You’re fucking wounded!
Parking your life is a way to heal, you’re right. Just this : you have to know that you will maybeventually stay there. Healed, but full of ugly scars. Haunted by a hand in your hair…
Have a nice day!