I would call it a movie review, but it's not

I just watched Catch and Release, and I think it merits a note on grief, sex, comfort and rebounds. Now, as you, dear reader, may or not know, the premise of the movie is that her fiancee died on his bachelor party trip and she moves in with his best friends for comfort and affordability. Well, she finds out a lot of things about him she didn't know and falls for one of them. I'm trying to spoil it as little as possible.

Here's the valuable fact about pain: When in pain, we seek comfort. We seek relief of that pain, even if the relief is temporary. In fact, as many of us know, "rebounding" or getting right back into a relationship at the painful terminus of another can often be disastrous... similarly, people who seem to elicit a feeling you want to call "love" in times of great stress can often turn out to be impossible to live with in the day to day of things. The great monotony wears down the exciting to the everyday and you can't remember what you were so crazy about nor figure out where it went. Here is where my "peculiar" approach to relationships wins out... I don't keep them long enough to get worn out in the day to day. Well, except John, and we all know I don't miss him.

What I'm trying to say is, if you're hurting really, really badly, the kind of grief that no amount of booze can fix, the kind that no sympathy or prayers can give you peace from, the kind that would make you take a million sleeping pills if you weren't terrified of the dreams, the kind that makes you want the world to go away, you will seek comfort, you will seek relief, in any form, however brief. And physical intimacy is a comfort, it is a relief. At its most base, it is a distraction. A distraction you'd Thank God for in this case. Any time away from that pain. Any time you can pretend it didn't happen... like that moment when you first wake up, before the reality of cold, harsh daylight seeps in, when you've forgotten the tragedy ever occurs and you reach for the person you love, the person you're sure was there a moment ago, the moment before you remember that they're not, that they never will be there again, ever. That's the best moment of the day. Sex works the same way... for a moment, you're somewhere else, and you're not hurting and you're not thinking, and it's ok, and then.... you come crashing back down to earth and reality and the tragedy hits you like it's brand-new, like a sucker punch. Anyone who can comfort you in these times of great need, who can understand your need for distraction, your need for relief, your need to forget for at least a moment, and above all, your need for silence and your need to talk... that person will elicit very strong feelings. You will, of course, greatly appreciate their help in your coming to terms with things, their aid to your recovery, because without them you may not have made it to recovery at all. You'll get all the warm fuzzies appropriate to feel when someone is so generous, so kind, and so understanding of your needs, even if they're only incidentally understanding, kind, and generous. Perhaps you've just found yourself a brooder... someone who's naturally silent and somnolent and physically attentive. Quite likely, this person would make you crazy in the everyday of things... "What do you want for dinner, honey?" "...." "What're you thinking?" "...."
I say this from experience. In times of pain, I have turned to men with the personality of rocks because they understood what I told them to do and I didn't have to tell them some things, they just reacted on instinct. When a drunk girl is hysterical, grief-stricken and wearing a short skirt and climbs into your arms and tells you to shut up and hold her, well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure things out. In fact, a rocket scientist would probably over-analyze the situation and try to come to a solution and I'd probably get frustrated knowing damn well there is no solution, just a temporary relief from the painful healing process.
When you're hurt, you take pain killers. When the pain killers wear off, you feel the pain again. Most doctors prescribe enough of them that you won't notice the pain until whatever hurt is completely healed. We cannot so completely medicate grief, but we make our attempts. I'm sure that at some point in your life, like mine, you've complained of a pain somewhere and some idiot offered to hurt another part of your body so that you wouldn't notice the original complaint.... distraction. We distract, we self-medicate, we comfort ourselves. It is right, it is natural, and it is ok. Just don't mistake the pain killers for anti-depressants. Well, don't mistake the pain killers for a better life. People die that way. The same goes for sex as a pain killer... don't mistake it for love. You don't love the Vicodin, you don't love the Percocet, you don't love Steve and you don't love James. They are pain killers. Valuable distinction. But easily missed.