Doing my usual internet rounds a little two weeks ago, I spotted a photo of sumptuous looking cake doughnuts on www.tastespotting.com— I unabashedly visit Tastespotting along with Tom and Lorenzo everyday.
I clicked on the link with the plan to quickly feast my eyes and move on but the story I found on Sweetsugarbean, the blog to which the link led, excavated feelings buried not quite so far below my uneven-keeled surface. The food blogger, Renée, is in the throes of post-breakup agony, according to her post on the blog. So, because I have been that woman– blindsided, broken and beyond despair– because I am still, sometimes, that woman, I knew I had to take to my kitchen and try my hands at the recipe she shared as a sort of pseudo-symbolic (tautology intended) means of showing solidarity. Heartbreak is a lugubriously beautiful existence. Its occurrence is so quotidien, that we often forget how profound it’s impact is. I once opined in the unintelligable language of my delirious pain:
Have You Ever?
Have you ever seen a heartbreaking? Have you ever heard a heart breaking? Have you ever felt a heart,
breaking? Have you ever tasted your heart breaking? Have you ever smelt heartbreak?
They say it is the most quotidian of things…like birth and death it happens everyday. Well, I have
seensmeltheardfelttastedheardbreathed it and it is more wondrous than a winged-boy, drenched in
molten wax, enshrouded by a floating airy globe of plumage, falling out of the sky.
He saw my heartbreaking, my heartbreak and my heart break and he told me I looked open,sad, but as he
said this his heart did not break and so mine broke all over again.
…I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.