Paper Dolls


It’s 8 in the morning, and I’m listening to a favorite break-up album.  I drank too much wine last night, painted my toenails cherry red, decided to have a fling.

Yesterday, I went one of those Asian nail places with the comfy chairs and stacks of magazines.  There was some sad Lifetime movie on about love and loss and little boy who ends up dying.  Somehow, it was meant to tell the world about taking risks and being brave. But it succeeded in making cry – sitting there in the comfy, brown chair with the massing back while a sweet lady scrubbed my feet.

This Nick Cave album is the same one I listened to, years ago, when I broke up with my old boyfriend, Derek.  It was a favorite of ours.  Cave’s voice is sad and slow with simple piano parts and strings.  Before the break-up, we listened to it, said how pretty it was.  We held hands and sipped coffee, not understanding it would be the album I’d play over and over again after I kicked him out.  It would be the same album I’d play over and over again after he died several months later.

Today, no one is dead.  But there is a break-up in the works.  A good friend of mine once said that grief, sadness holds hands like paper dolls.  A new hurt reaches back through time and dredges up the old one until they are one blurry mess.

I’m one blurry mess.


3 Responses to “Paper Dolls”

  1. These are well put together words, I hope they are also cathartic in some way and that the blurry edges are either gone or gentle.
    best wishes.

  2. Woah. This is amazing.

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