I'll Get Over You, I Know I Will, I'll Pretend My Ship's Not Sinking, And I'll Tell Myself I'm Over You, 'Cause I'm The King Of Wishful Thinking

--"The King of Wishful Thinking", Go West

Most people two weeks into a break-up will tell you that they're doing better, that it's nothing they can't handle. Meanwhile, inside they are a wreck. It's very hard to find somebody who has been through a recent divorce or split who says they've moved on that has actually moved on. One can start noticing their work start to suffer, whether it be their schoolwork or just plain regular. Some people stop eating. Some people stop going out. Many even lose track of time to the point that somebody has to intervene to remind them what their responsibilities are. Most people experience that level of loss in every aspect of their day-to-day existence, especially within those first two weeks.

Most people get distracted by thinking about this other person.

Most people who say they're doing better than okay in those first two weeks really aren't doing better.

Most people aren't my friend Toby.

LOCAL STUDENT HONORED WITH CONVERSATION WITH LAUREATE
--From Staff Reports

A Lorryville High School student's essay on lauded poet Cecilia Woloch landed her an interview with the Poet Laureate Emeritus Richard Taylor.

Toby Frisson, 15, penned an essay for this year's state Celebrate the Arts contest. The State Arts Council awarded Frisson and other finalists the chance to talk with the esteemed Mr. Taylor.

Frisson spoke with the man in a videoconference from the poet’s home, where he was feeling under the weather, but still well enough to spend an hour talking to the grateful award winner.

"I was one of the only people to have a videoconference," said Frisson, the youngest daughter of John and Lindsey Frisson of Lorryville. "I was talking along with my teacher and a few other schools and people who had also won the contest. We were asking questions about subject matter and influences. I learned a lot."

Frisson, a sophomore at Lorryville High, says she always had an interest in poetry from her earliest years. She hopes to pursue a career in the writing field or publishing field.

Frisson had to select one poet that she had never read in class, and explain why she believed the chosen author best personified poetry in the 20th and/or 21st century.

"This is just the sort of thinking that I normally do on my own." said Frisson, "I was really comfortable with how I thought the essay should sound. In the end, I found Woloch to fit the criteria of the contest well and I think I provided more than a few reasons why future generations of her readers are in good hands."

Regarding her meeting the Laureate, she stated, “I feel so honored that I was given the opportunity to learn, even if only for only an hour, at the foot at one of this country’s greatest living writers.”

Nearly 400 students from around the state entered the contest.

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I don't know how she's doing it. I mean--yes, I tend to try to focus on my work when I go through a break-up, but almost anyone can tell that my work habits suffer. I can't focus. I lose oodles of time thinking about how much better my life was prior to the fallout. I'm usually a fraction of my productive self for a good month or two until I actually am doing better. I'm not one of those people like Toby who can lose themselves in their daily routine, free from the distractions that being in a relationships carries along with it. It's like how Miss Cooper always calls me out for being terribly not pragmatic when it comes to love, or the lack thereof. I'm basically one of those people that becomes all consumed by it. Whether I'm initially falling into it or being ceremoniously dumped out of it, every other area of my life suffers until I can settle back into the routine of being me. Up until that point, the bulk of my efforts goes to either fueling that fire of passion or, in the case of being jilted, trying to restoke its embers.

I am not the type of person who can frivolously think about trying to win a statewide contest and cobble together a prizewinning essay when I very well could be trying to win back the heart of whatever fair lady I had foolishly given mine to.

I am not the type of person who can just wish the heartache to go away and it does.

I'm the type of person who literally had to have the cops come to my door the last time I was going through an especially potent break-up because I was disturbing the neighbors so much with my attempts to win her back.

I'm the type of person who can systematically screw up my last year of college because I'm just not equipped to deal with schoolwork and the busy work of trying to distract my heart from noticing it has a piece missing.

I don't know--maybe she's a better arbiter of spending her time wisely. Maybe she can compartmentalize the hours and minutes she can spend obsessing over the subtleties her moments have lost and the hours and minutes she needs to spend on getting through her day productively. Maybe that's a skill she might be able to teach me someday.

Or maybe she's the type to keep all the rage and sorrow and bitterness boiling beneath the surface, only to have it explode in a fiery torment months down the line. I can't tell right now.

Me? I know what I am. I experience things to the nth degree as soon as they happen. As soon as I get crapped on or made to feel embarrassed, I can't put up that false front of everything being alright. I can't desire myself into a better place. I need to act quickly, whether that means lashing out or retreating within myself or even doing something completely crazy to get my mind off of it. I can't go on with my day as if nothing happened, just like I can't go on with the rest of my life as if nothing happened. Things happen to me that affect me deeply. I can't just stand idly by and not take stock of that. Whether I journal it here, call one of my friends, or even shout it from the highest rooftops for all who can hear--people are going to know one way or the other all is not right in the world of mojo. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm one of those spotlight hogs who has to make sure everybody knows my suffering, but if you ask me honestly if I'm doing okay, I'm not going to say I am. If you expect me to go through my day all honky-dory, I'm not going to be able to. It's like a wise man once said, "cut me, do I not bleed?" I react appropriately for the given situation with no false fronts or false bravado.

That's the way I heal.

As much as I feel proud that Young Miss Frisson can triumph so sweetly in the midst of defeat, it only calls attention to how much more defeated I feel when every triumph seems to elude me while I'm in mourning. It only calls to mind that there are some people who don't let anything stop them from climbing over any obstacle as well as the fact that there are some walls I was never meant to climb.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers