Metal Firecracker

I talked to a friend the other night whom I hadn't talked to in a long time. We went to grad school together, and though we're different in a lot of ways, we also have some important things in common. We both grew up with fathers who were alcoholics, both of us finally sought treatment for that when we were in our 30s, and neither of us have been particularly successful in our love lives.

I told her about what's going on in my life, and she told me about a book called The Art of Loving. I started it last night. It's a super old book, but an interesting one, based on the premise that we don't tend to give enough credence to love as an art form. That it contains a theory and a practice. That we can understand the theory and get better at it in practice, and in doing so, overcome our feelings of separateness.

What I find confusing and confounding is, I feel like I've done all that. I feel like I deeply understand the theory of love and practice it with proficiency. So what am I to take away from this situation? What can I do that is in alignment with the art of loving but also allows me to take care of myself and leave myself open to the love I want and need?

I don't know. I'm going back to therapy next week, and I'm hoping that helps.

Until then, my therapy is Lucinda Williams:

Once we rode together
In a metal firecracker
You told me I was your queen
You told me I was your biker
You told me I was your everything

Once I was in your blood
And you were obsessed with me
You wanted to paint my picture
You wanted to undress me
You wanted to see me in your future

All I ask
Don't tell anybody the secrets
Don't tell anybody the secrets
I told you
All I ask
Don't tell anybody the secrets
Don't tell anybody the secrets
I told you

Once you held me so tight
I thought I'd lose my mind
You said I rocked your world
You said it was for all time
You said that I would always be your girl

We'd put on ZZ Top
And turn em up real loud
I used to think you were strong
I used to think you were proud
I used to think nothing could go wrong

All I ask
Don't tell anybody the secrets
Don't tell anybody the secrets
I told you
All I ask
Don't tell anybody the secrets
I told you

I don't know what Erich Fromm would say about Lucinda's lyrics, but I do know that although many of them fit, some really don't, including a few that seem important:

1) He never said I'd always be his girl
2) I don't have any secrets
3) I still think he's strong
4) I never thought nothing could go wrong