Pinot Noir: The Heartbreak Grape
On some nights you want your wine glass full. Not half full, and not that classy mess they serve at restaurants. You want it bursting at the brim. You want it so full you have to sip on it while it sits on the table, because lifting it would cause it to spill. And you don’t want it spilling, not one drop. You can do without the reminders that your life is slipping away from you. And when you start to see that empty space as you sip, you will refill your glass. You cannot bear to see that emptiness. You cannot bear the mirrored meaninglessness of your own life.
And on those very nights, you want the wine to be red. A deep red. Blood red. The darkest red. You want to see your face reflected in it. Surrounded by blood. Dipped in blood. You want to lose yourself in that dark red lake. You want the red to stain your lips, and your tongue. You want to look yourself in the mirror, bloody lips and all. Because you do not have the courage to bite your lip and see the blood seep out. You want to bite your lips unforgivingly. You want to bite them because they betrayed you. They loved his kiss. They longed for his lips. They trembled at his slightest touch. They smiled each time he said your name. They smiled, even when you were fuming at him. They whispered his name, over and over. I love you’s came as second nature. Your lips released them so effortlessly. And you just want to see them bleed. You want them to suffer. You want them to pay for their sins- for their betrayal. For you never heard those words back. At least not in the way that mattered.
The wine should be cheap. Yes, cheap. Probably come in a box. It has to have about 13% alcohol level. Okay, you can settle for 11%. It has to cheap because that is how you feel tonight. That is how you feel, having given yourself wholly for a price as little as his smile. His smile was all you needed to feel better and look forward to tomorrow. So long as he shined that strip of white, all was well with the world. It should be in a box because that’s how you feel. Boxed. Trapped. Trapped by a love that was not reciprocated. Trapped by the realization that maybe what you felt wasn’t love at all. Trapped by the lies he spewed every single day. You wish he had been honest with himself sooner. That he hadn’t wasted your time with promises he would never keep. You are yet to meet a man with the courage to end a relationship in which he doesn’t intend to be. You want the alcohol to wash over each and every inch of you, each part of your body that savored his caress. You want the alcohol to heal the wounds he left in his wake, sanitize open wounds and prevent infection. You want to forget. Forget him. Forget his promises. Forget the pain. Forget the love.
This wine, it must be dry. It must not be sweet. You do not deserve sweet wine. You need to remember why the relationship did not work. You need to be constantly aware of the anguish you’re going through. You cannot forget how much pain it is to love someone who does not love you back. You must not forget the sound of your heart breaking in its cage. You must not forget the way your body coiled into itself after his rejection. You must not remember how dry your throat got as he uttered those words you never thought you’d hear from his lips. You must remember every bit of your pain.
You will not hold the wine glass by its stem. No, you will grab the bowl by both hands and draw the glass to your lips. The glass shall not be small. It shall be the biggest wine glass you can find. Its bowl must be as round and wide as your hips. If you cannot find a glass like this one, you’re better off using a vase. The stem shall be long and slender. It shall stand as tall as you once were and as you are soon going to be again. It shall remind of your splendor. Tomorrow, you can hold it by its stem like the classy lady you are. But today, today you hold it in both hands and let the liquid wash through you. Let it cleanse you.
And when you finish that glass you will remember that you are woman. That you are allowed to wallow in despair and regret. That you are allowed to cry yourself to sleep. That you are allowed to feel pain, and experience heartbreak. That you are allowed to let yourself go, once in a while, to lose control, and to fear. But only for a moment. When the red line vanishes from your glass, realize that the time for self-pity is over. It is time to dust off and try again. It is time to learn from past mistakes and hedge forward. As you finish the wine in your glass realize that the relationship was not in vain. That you learned a few things (a lot). The past is the past, and it is time to open up to new experiences. As the red fades from your lips, acknowledge that your lips will once again feel love. That they will one day know true kindness. They will heal and forget those deceitful lips. You will heal and forget those menacing eyes. You will heal. And you will one day love again.
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