English

Triggered

Sunday morning.

There’s autumn in the air today and I’m still in bed. Reaching for my phone, not in any kind of hurry to get up. I have nothing to do and nowhere to be.

Scrolling through my feeds. Reading an inspiring article. Giggling at a silly joke. Looking at photos of beautiful people and beautiful places. I find the little green Spotify-icon and click on a recent addition to the playlist called “sad”.

Don’t click on stuff labelled “sad” when you’re completely unprepared.

Older songs usually have really heavy emotions attached to them. The songs on my list of sadness are the ones that come with the most painful memories. Songs I’m no longer willing to avoid due to unhealed wounds, so my intention is to use this playlist to heal.

The song I clicked on had only played for a few seconds when the gates opened, and all kinds of pain poured out.

I was thrown back in time. My entire body felt sensations that belonged to the past.

I felt how cold the wooden floor was under my bare feet as I slowly walked to the kitchen that morning. This was not my home, but I felt at home. The feeling of contentment and belonging filled my heart.

I saw pieces of clothing spread across the floor and the couch. Two empty wineglasses was on the dining table, along with a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey. The garlicky smell of dinner from the previous evening was still in the room.

I could even taste the cheese sandwich I had for breakfast that one winter morning.

In the present, my heart hurts. Still. Because of the love I once felt. Because of the love I once hoped to feel.

Don’t try to escape the pain. It’s time to absorb it, and let it rest. Be present with the pain. Accept it’s presence. Find comfort in the notion that everything happened for a reason.

They say love between twin flames is the most painful. It starts suddenly, connects deeply and burns so intensely that it can only last for a short time. I believe that to be true. One of those love stories is the reason I’m lying in bed on a sunday morning, crying, with my phone in my hand, playing a song about love as white as snow.

The pain has calmed down for now. But the wounds are not completely healed yet. They are there, I can feel them under the surface. Waiting for the next trigger.

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