Post by Misha
I was laying on my yoga mat sobbing in what had become my normal morning routine: wake up forgetting for one blissful fraction of a second the events of the previous week, then remember it all at once. Experience crushing grief. Cry into coffee. Remember friends’ admonitions to “practice self care”. Unroll yoga mat and collapse into child’s pose. Continue crying down there.
Anyway so I was crying on the floor when out of nowhere a voice comes into my head and says very clearly, “I love you.”
Not only that but, “You are strong,” and,
“You are going to be ok.”
It was not a voice I recognized, and yet it was mine. Imagine the surprise.
I had abdicated the responsibility of being alone for so long that I had forgotten that there was a part of me that was only me, without romance, without sex, without another person waiting somewhere underneath me with a heart-shaped net.
Yet there she was, still.
I’ve been listening to Cornelia Murr‘s lovely debut album all week. It sounds like a heart breaking in reverse, spinning pain back into self-possession and love.