I have been thinking about sharing this little essay with you for some time. But I have been doubting due to several reasons, but now two years later I feel its more a story about how relationship evolve when finding your self at the deepest. I wrote it about a year ago as part of an essay competition. Much of the essay is based on notes I made throughout my black period (Is that a period? Did Picasso have one of those?) in form of notes from my notebook.
I was 23 and about to embark my master when me and my first serious boyfriend broke up. It was an intense, heady, unhealthy relationship that had consumed me utterly for 5 years. We had been as close as two people can get, and so when it ended it felt as though the world around me had too. I felt completely bereft and bewildered and the only thing I could do was laying on my bed looking outside the window crying from my deepest for hours. I never felt so lonely and sad before, I had no need for smiling, eating or talking. The only thing that made sense was to go home and be with my parents. To get away from that world we once had together in Copenhagen.
I love my parents, when I’m alone with my parents I relax more and words is not needed to express how I feel. So at the point where I couldn’t get any lower, I knew my parents house where the place to hide from the world and stabilise my broken self. Some days after the break up my dad arrived in the car and without speaking he tough me in his arms on the doorstep and followed me down to the car. I remember a lump in my throat so big I could feel it choking me. We didn’t speak much on the long way home, it was just me crying silently trying to hide my tears away.
As soon as we got home I went to bed, my mom had made it all ready for me as she always do. Flowers from the garden was nicely put together in a vase next to the bed. I laid there the next couple of days as a pale shale, I felt as tiny and fragile as it’s possible to feel. But the feeling of having my parents and my blissfully silly dog around instantly gave me a soothing feeling.
I spend 14 days with them plus several weekends after. We had slipped into a comforting routine – and when I knew I had to go back to my life and job in Copenhagen, I felt genuine sad. The summer days at my parents house is still a blissful memory, the feeling of totally despair felt easier when we walked by the coast me and my dad or sitting in the garden with my mom drinking ice coffee. I somehow felt the world was standing still and no questions or confronting moments were near, I even like my self better in their company. I can’t have been fun living with. At best I was quite and withdrawn and at worst I was volatile and sad.
Days were I had been particularly melancholy and mopey we drow to the beach or forest where we walked and talked, my mom often brought sandwich we could eat in a quit moment down by the water. I was still utterly miserable but I grow a confident about starting a new chapter by myself. The weeks we spend together we had absolutely no arguing (as we tend to do when there is full house) my parents must have had a great patient with me, it was like we found our faultless routine the 3 of us with me as the trouble childe in the middle.
Some weeks later when I again was back in my apartment where my loving and patient roommate was waiting, a text message arrived from my mom with the words “ we miss you” the 3 small words elicited a smile with watery-eyed, I missed them too. . In someway when my relationship to my boyfriend ended my relationship to my parents grew.
Happy mothers day
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