La Petite Mort

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The French have this saying, “la petite mort.” Little death. The way the French describe it is the post-orgasmic state of unconsciousness.

It’s the melancholy and sense of loss that follows fleeting ecstasy. When something beautiful comes to an end. And we’re left with the space between the end, and nothing.

Sometimes, I wish I could stay in the state of anticipation forever, never knowing. And never feeling this melancholy of knowing how things end.

But my nature says, “fuck around and find out.” And my heart breaks at the end of every chapter of the book I’m writing.

How painful. And yet. How beautiful it is to experience this. But how many more times will I have to die before I learn how to be happy in the state of anticipation, and waiting.

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