“Hello? Is there anybody in there?”
With a cigarette between my fingers, I lean against the kitchen counter, inhaling the lyrics of this Pink Floyd masterpiece: Comfortably Numb. I love lyrics that are raw, deep, dark, airy, playful. They make me feel and think more deeply. And he… watches me as I listen.
In the simplicity of everyday life, our encounters unfolded—cooking together, eating, walking, couch-lounging, deep conversations, music, lollygagging, making love. Everyday moments that only hinted at what our souls already understood.
About five years ago now—a time when I hadn’t smoked in years. Crazy! The beginning of a journey down a path I hadn’t anticipated. Even though our connection didn’t lead to a traditional house-hugging relationship, it felt like coming home every time. We were like a dance: subtle, tentative, moving closer, only to pull back again—unexpectedly, through miscommunication. And still, an undeniable connection remained.
The distance, stretched over days, weeks, and months, put me in touch with my unprocessed emotions, as if caught between a bottomless feeling of abandonment and his intense closeness. Not physically, but energetically—he was always there! Like a key unlocking my deepest, long-buried feelings. Like the protagonist of Comfortably Numb: numb from trauma and isolation, cut off from the world and trapped in his own emotions.
During this turbulent time, writing became my unexpected outlet. Not a conscious choice or planned project, but an inevitable expression of the coldness that came before it. Just as fairy tales begin with “Once upon a time” or “One day,” so did my story begin—on December 24, 2020. For two days, I wrote incessantly, and when I stopped, I had a series of untitled stories in front of me.
Writing and sharing brings me closer to understanding what this love affair means (to me). Unraveling all the patterns, expectations, theories, and ideas of how things “should” be in this world of fixed conditions—both inside and outside of me. I am letting go. Also, I let go of the idea of coming together again.
What remains is a new expression of me: Natalie who laughs, cries, dances, sings (badly :-)), and dreams (awake) without masks. I express myself! And with that, I live my intention: to contribute to a world in which we recognize, feel, and heal our pain through emotionally deep experiences.
Numbness as a desire for connection. As in Comfortably Numb, people tend to protect themselves by shutting down when emotions become overwhelming. How do you break through numbness? I think by facing the pain. Living through our depths isn’t easy, but that’s what brings us to the core of connection.
Natalie
(Photo: Mariëtte Kranenburg)