Letting the Days Go By: Even More Candy Wrapper Wisdom

I have David Byrne stuck in my head. As voices in my head go, the lead singer of the Talking Heads isn’t bad. In fact, given that “Once in a Lifetime” is the song he’s singing, I’d call him downright insightful. “You may ask yourself, how did I get here?” You got that right, David Byrne. I have been asking myself that.

Next week I’m heading to the infamous Halloween party I attend in Houston every year. My favorite weekend of the year, hands down. But this year it’s yet another thing that I shared with Troy that I’ll be doing solo. Another thing I believed I would be doing with a partner this year. And next year, and the year after that too.  Instead it’s yet another time I’ll explain to friends why the man I was sure I’d grow old with—the man who told  everyone closest to me that he was in my life to stay—is not with me.

How did I get here?

Since our breakup, I’ve flown solo for my summer trip to Dallas and the Autism Walk. Next is the Halloween party and then Thanksgiving and Christmas—all things we shared last year. Things we shared with the promise that each would be the first of many. Once I make it through these milestones I’ll have done without him all the things I did with him that were so meaningful to me. I’ll be one year removed from the memory of how good it felt to share these things with him. One year removed from the feeling of contentment and security I felt when I was with him. One year removed from that wonderful feeling of being part of a team. And one year removed from the intoxicating feeling of being loved.

I hope the distance created by that one year will provide clarity and some measure of peace. But for now, I’m just letting the days go by (at the suggestion of the song stuck in my head) and letting the distance unfold.

Last night while I was doing just that, I figured I might as well eat some chocolate (I could tell you that I also figured I might as well drink some wine, but that probably goes without saying). So I sipped my wine, unwrapped a Dove Chocolate Promise and checked the inside of the wrapper. It said, “Chocolate won’t let you down.”

Normally I feel gypped when I find some bullshit about the wonders of chocolate where my pithy pearl of wisdom ought to be. Normally I would read “Chocolate won’t let you down,” and say, “I’m sorry…what?” to no one in particular, “What kind of crap is that?” But last night I looked at that tin foil square and thought, “Whoa. Dude.” (And I wasn’t even high.) Chocolate won’t let me down. Ditto wine and far too much coffee. A true friend. Hugs from my kids. (And let’s face it, a certain battery-operated appliance, provided I keep enough batteries on hand.)

                                                                              

Armed with the knowledge that I would not be let down, I opened another chocolate (and poured another glass of wine). The wrapper on this one read, “You are exactly where you are supposed to be.” I looked at this tin foil square and thought, “Seriously?” Because if you’d asked me a year ago, my idea of “where I’m supposed to be” would have looked nothing like this.

However, I’m not one to doubt the wisdom and insight dispensed on the inside of a Dove Chocolate Promise wrapper (lest you forget, I once checked the car’s glove box and under my bed when one suggested I look for love in unexpected places). So at least for the time being, while I’m letting the days go by, I have decided to sit very, very still.

Y’all be careful not to jostle me, OK?