So, while working, I was listening to my mom’s iPod, which has an assortment of music on there. There was this particular song though that caught my attention and is the impetus for this particular ginger musing.

It’s Jo Dee Messina and Tim McGraw’s “Bring On the Rain.”

My twin sister was with someone for nearly five years. They moved in together and then this past summer, they were married in a beautiful ceremony that brought tears to my eyes (mostly because I was thinking about how my twin was taking the next big step in her life).

Within nine months of that gorgeous wedding ceremony, he said to her, “I don’t love you anymore.” They divorced and are now trying to figure out what to do about their house, which they had gotten not long before the marriage. Luckily, there are no kids in the picture.

That said, she’s, as one would imagine, not taking it very well. She had to move back home, so I get to see her most of the time now. And I’m worried, which is not surprising since I’m her twin. Obviously, after a breakup, especially of so many years together and when you think that person is your “soul mate,” there is bound to be a long, awful recovery process. I would not expect anything less nor would I encourage a more expedited process.

However, when does grieving over a broken heart turn into something more alarming? That is, at one point should you say, “Hey, maybe it’s time I intervene and suggest a therapist?” In other words, the last thing I would want to see is a bout of depression set in that’s longer than is typical in these situations.

With a breakup, one deals with feeling ashamed, embarrassed and their self-esteem certainly takes a hit. My twin is experiencing all of that.

I know all of these stages she’s going through all too well myself. I was with someone back in early 2011 through a little bit of 2012. She was my first relationship and my first love. We were only together five months, but given that she was my first love, the breakup was no easier on my psyche and emotions. It took me a considerable few months to recover. I did the classic things: drunk texting her, sober texting her, liking her material on Facebook, obsessively reading into everything she posted on Facebook/Twitter, hoping that eventually she’d miss me and we’d get back together, turning inwards wondering a million possible reasons she could have stopped loving me and so forth. From there it was proclaiming to the Gods that I would never love again, how could I, and that she was perfect for me.

Then it was disengaging from the hope that she would come back as a lover and trying to see if she wanted to be friends. That didn’t work either for obvious reasons and then it was wondering how she seemed to be a different person than the one I remember; how she could be with another guy already.

And soon, I stopped checking Facebook and Twitter. I stopped texting her drunk or sober. I stopped thinking about her. I no longer felt that pit in my stomach when I saw a picture of her. Certainly, I still think of the good times we had together, but now, it’s not so much a longing for her particularly, as it is a longing for that companionship in general again.

It is my hope that my sister will eventually get to that point and that she won’t be so jaded about the matters involving the heart.

Which brings me back to this song from Jo Dee Messina and Tim McGraw. I was really getting into it at work and was like, “Dammit, bring on the rain!” Because you know, the rain, it’s kinda beautiful in its own way. There’s something comforting about thunder and that bright light emanating from a lightning strike.

Sometimes, you just need to play in the puddles.

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