You Are the Rake

Perhaps the hardest thing we have to confront in this human form is the experience of having a love grow cold. It's hard to say exactly how it happens and it's comparatively easy, in retrospect, to find the fault lines that we failed to see or acknowledge in the early stages of a relationship. I think maybe the best response we can have to this phenomenon is to grieve the loss as we would a death, because that's exactly what it is in many respects. And when someone dies, we don't go back and find fault with them or with the reasons we chose them; we mourn the lack of what they added to our life.

This sad number from Sufjan Stevens is a dirge that could inspire waterworks in the toughest among us:

I never felt so safe

A line I once told her

Warm, resting place

Her arms on my shoulder

You are the rock

You are the rake

You are the one when I watch myself

We ran into a cave

When the wars came closer

She turned into a cave

Where it turned colder

I'm not sure exactly what it means, but I think it has something to do with the fertile ground that is left behind when a love dies. It's raw and it's uncomfortable but there's also so much opportunity if we are willing to get out the rototiller and prepare the soil for the next seed(s) to be planted. (Speaking of seeds being planted, check out this little beauty!)

I think maybe treating the loss this way leaves more room for both having faith that another love might really last as well as room for a new kind of relationship to form with a past love. Because despite what it may feel like at times, and as monumental a loss as it is, it is only the romantic love that has died, not your capacity to love -- that's still there (once that earth has been churned enough times) to allow you to love someone new and bridge a new relationship with the person with whom you once shared the closeness reserved for lovers.