Did I tell you I think all my sadness up until last week wasn’t related to the death of my relationship with Sweet Thing/Patrick?
Well my theory is that my heart didn’t break because Sweet Thing turned out to be a punk…. no, I’m convinced now, it was because my iPod died.
I’ve always felt that my ability to play a song no matter what I was doing has always been part of my liberation from the mundane and it’s been a consistent companion and preferred coping mechanism. That my iPod died on me, and left me unable to drown out the stupidity of other people so I can focus on what I was doing, was what made me feel out of control. I suppose it’s partially why I am smoking too.
See, Sweet Thing was just a lightning rod for my grief over the death of iPod, which I called my Moveable Feast.
I had to make way for the new.