Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Noel Coward explains my love life to you.

I am no good at love
My heart should be wise and free
I kill the unfortunate golden goose
Whoever it may be
With over-articulate tenderness
And too much intensity.
I am no good at love
I batter it out of shape
Suspicion tears at my sleepless mind
And, gibbering like an ape,
I lie alone in the endless dark
Knowing there's no escape.
I am no good at love
When my easy heart I yield
Wild words come tumbling from my mouth
Which should have stayed concealed;
And my jealousy turns a bed of bliss
Into a battlefield.
I am no good at love
I betray it with little sins
For I feel the misery of the end
In the moment that it begins
And the bitterness of the last good-bye
Is the bitterness that wins.
From The Complete Verse of Noël Coward

Oh my god I love this poem. Noel Coward, man. He's all froth and brittle sophistication and then he just peels back that shell and there's this passion and uncertainty and desperation underneath. Very English. 

Being single is hard sometimes. 
Having feelings for people is hard.
Splitting my time between two different towns is hard. 
Negotiating my natural intensity versus keeping things simple is hard.
I remind myself to breathe. 
I try and think about all the things I do right rather than the couple of things I screw up. 
I tell myself that even if I blow it with someone it does not necessarily mean that I will die alone with a cat chewing on my face. 
And I remember that at the end of the day I am harder on myself than ANYONE else. 

No comments: