I miss you today

I miss you today. Almost to the point where I cannot remember what you did, and I cannot imagine a time when I don't love you. It hurts today. You have made me cry about three times now. That is three more times than I have let myself in a while. I can feel it today. I keep thinking HCT and it hurts. Even as I type this hot tears are falling on my pillow and I think that the person who came up with HCT did this to me. Plotted to hurt me at this level. The tears keep spilling. My heart is broken. It didn't mend in two and half months. It didn't mend. I wonder tonight if I will just always love you. I saw you and knew you and loved you because of all the things I saw. You were too cowardly to stand up for that. So now I ache and wonder if the last time I heard your voice is really the last time I will ever hear your voice. The sadness completely overwhelms me. I want to be clear that if I died tomorrow the only thing I would regret (that I can actually do something about) is not finding a way to forgive you for what you did. I do not want to go through life with this deep sense of betrayal in my heart, weighing me down. I don't think that it is that I am afraid of this loneliness. I got used to be alone with you. I did it a lot. It is that I will never love someone like you again. That maybe you are my person. Fuck.
I almost called you today. I was picking up the phone to call my friend in Vancouver and my fingers automatically dialed your first six digits. It was like breathing to me. That absolute overwhelming panic swelled throughout me and I hung up the phone and missed you. So today I miss you.
So it turns out I will be needing some more time.

Getting off my soap box now

Was at AVI tonight. One major thought came out of this. We the people are working to help the people in a model that by its own definition limits our ability and essentially becomes just the house to hold the shit in. For example, we will not condone the use of drugs. They are illegal. We want people to come in off the street. We want them to seek help. We want them to seek health care. We want them to seek stability and safety. We will not allow the drugs in any of the facilities that help them. You can not bring them to a soup kitchen. You can not bring them to a shelter. So there are people who are living outside of the societal norms, by using drugs and living on the street, etc, etc. and somehow the expectation is that they will just be able to compartmentalize? That they will fit neatly into the system. The system they reject, willing or not? The more I think about it the more crazy it seems. I go to AVI to help and somehow I feel frustrated. I look around and I know I am not the only one frustrated. How can we help?
Getting off my soap box now.

A Man Aid

Tales of a lonely single gal in the city....
So I went out last night, hair newly cut, brand new dress, and dirty vodka martini in hand. I went out on the prowl and I came home drunk as a skunk and what I have learnt from this little adventure is that no amount of men, alcohol or pretending is going to make D come back. Not that I should want him to, but part of me does. I miss him. How easy it was. How I never felt I was alone because even when I was alone all I had to do was dig out my cellphone, check my texts or glance at my BBM and I knew he was there. I didn't have to worry whether or not a single man in the room would fine me attractive because I didn't care. I was out there last night without that armour. The first time I have done that so far. I know I have been out there before last night, but I was always protected by the serious damage of his recent leaving. Two months have gone by since then though and so I set out last night with a bit of a mission. Although I did go home alone, I didn't go home feeling like the ugliest girl in the bar. Actually I had a very cute boy who I had been eyeing all night buy me a drink. The unfortunate thing is that I don't know if bitter me is very fun to be around right now. I do not believe to such an extent that I would ever have been able to really show him me. What if he didn't like it? Or what if he faked it for like five years and then left me?
OK I can taste the bitterness. This is really an unattractive side of me. The point is I do not think I am ready to be back out there. The heart of the matter is that a man band aid is not going to make this better.

Its all because of you.

I am listening to the Cher Heart Of Stone album. Low point or high point? The fact that I am asking this is probably indicative. I went shopping again today. This time I bought an "I want to have sex" dress. It is a dress than could not be more boobies if I tried. (and I will!) But I thought what the hell? I am single. So I might as well do this. I am also getting my hair done. So it will be new hair, new dress, new attitude.
I was telling my therapist about my hook up with S... the law student and how it was good but that's all that I wanted. I just want them to shut up and fuck. The men in my life right now. If you could even called them in my life; these are men I don't really want around. I am sure S is a nice guy. Actually seemed really interesting because when I finally asked him about his life and things he is interested in we ended up talking about a paper he wrote arguing against male circumcision. I don't know how I really and truly feel about this topic, but I know for sure I do not feel as passionately as he does. He compared it to female genital mutilation. Anyways this is not the point I am trying to make. The point is the guy is interesting. When he stops kissing for a moment and we talk its pleasant. And while I am there I forget. But then I get home and I remember. I can feel the way D kissed and remember how easy it was to talk to him. And the sense of safety that I had, however much of a facade it was. And then I can not possibly have the energy for the S's of the world. I am hoping this tiredness fades. Just like Jesse James. haha

Sunday Mornings

Sunday mornings. I have a dream. Of the perfect Sunday morning. Coffee, Globe and breakfast. Possibly some sex although I have to say that is not high on the list of musts for my Sunday morning dream. I haven't had a perfect Sunday morning ever. D didn't read. He didn't drink coffee. He isn't much for breakfast. And sex was the first thing on his list. So if I could write myself a personal ad maybe it would say "seeking man who loves Sundays in bed. Must be literate, like coffee (preferably like to make coffee and bring it to girl in bed), and if you like to do the Saturday Globe crossword I will consider it a bonus." Short, sweet and exactly what I want. Now is that so hard? One would think it is not that difficult to find this man but unfortunately this is not true. He might not even exist. I have been searching for (eek) twenty-seven years for him and have seen no hide or hair. How can it be that of the billions of people in this world this does not seem appealing to at least one decent man? Wow can you taste the bitterness in my mouth?
I guess I should remain hopeful. So if you come across this man in your travels send him my way....

Me and the Women

I went to book club tonight and it was wonderful. There is something about being in a room full of women who enjoy the same things that you do. I do not know if men get to experience this camaraderie in the same way. Books, good food and in actuality great talk about pretty much every topic imaginable except the book that we just read. I doubt that any of these women actually look forward to book club night because they are excited to talk about the book. I think that although I didn't think about D very much at all, I did think about the baby a lot. But for some reason it wasn't that sharp searing pain that I get when my mind comes across that thought. It was a sense that some of these women would understand my story. They would identify with it. Perhaps have similar experiences of their own. A lot of these women are mothers so I hear about babies and pregnancy a lot. At times it is painful but tonight it was somehow OK. I didn't have to pretend that I didn't know what it felt like. I didn't have to pretend that I do not have this hole in my heart. I didn't have to pretend I am not yearning for something I may never have now. I didn't have to hide those feelings because they really do not know me and they do not know my story. So my pain is not so real to them and my face is not so readable. I could hide behind my mystery and just be there. No looks of understanding or pity. Just me in a room full of women; mothers or pregnant or childless alike.

Not broken?

The last couple of days have been a struggle. I somehow have come out the other side and do not feel like crying constantly. It is strange but time seems to heal the little downs. I was speaking with a man today who has HIV and has spent his life struggling. It was interesting to hear him talk about life and his belief in the world and all things in it being interconnected. Spirit, mind and body. He called them the three big ones, and how when one is out of whack all of them are effected. I don't know if it is my mind or my spirit that feels broken, but something is very out of whack. I appreciated what he was saying though. He has spent so much time contemplating. Believing that there is no good or evil. No up or down. It is just all on a continuum, so while we are busy trying to define something perhaps it is undefinable by the limitations that we put on them. So maybe I am not complete but I am not broken. Just a thought.

Happy List Making

Shitty day again. I mean you think things are starting to look up and then they just get really hard. I don't really feel like giving it more time than it deserves. It is suffice to say I have a crazy stepbitch who puts me down to empower herself. Why do people do that? Say the most hurtful things they can to each other? OK this is not the topic of the day though. I have been wallowing in this feeling since last night. So instead I am going to focus on a positive thought.....
OK I have been sitting here for several minutes and what I have come up with is I am going to start a wish list. Throw these ideas out into the Universe in a very Oprahesque moment. The things that I want in the near future.
Sleep. Real sleep with no tormenting dreams or waking up to the absolute loneliness. I also would love to have a full night.
Some sunshine. OK things that I can make happen. Go on a vacation to some sunshine.
A garden with some pretty flowers. Maybe a tomato plant.
A clean home.
A reading nook with a comfy chair to read in.
A whole morning where I do not hurt.
A haircut. I maybe even want to cut my hair really short against the advice of many. Just for a change. But maybe I will regret that decision....
Just a little less aching in my heart. I will settle for a little less at a time.
A visit with my friends.
A hug. And a good cry that ends in relief not more crying.
True Blood second season on DVD. Totally addicted.
Ok that is my silly little list. But it made me feel better. All totally attainable within a reasonable amount of time. I am feeling a tiny bit better having thought about some nice things. Damn Oprah you do know what you are talking about.

Cross to bare

I woke up today and it hurt. A lot. I miss him, and I want to call him and tell him that but then reality strikes me and I think what is the point. So I talk to everyone else. One of my friends had a dream last night that is still haunting me, so really I can not imagine how she is feeling. Her own pain came out so vividly in this dream, and it made me wish there was something I could do to help her. Human helplessness is one of the most frustrating emotions there must be. Wanting to take away someone's pain is about as useless as a penny. Intentions are fine but when someone is really suffering even the word intention seems weak. I was thinking about that saying, "we all have a cross to bare", and as non Christian as I may be I still think that it resonates. I hope this is my cross. Losing a child is what I wanted to write, but then somehow it doesn't seem right to imply this is my cross when I made the choice. Every time I think of it I still feel this complete and utter emptiness, and wish I could turn back time. Although I was trying to imagine myself pregnant the other day. I would be so far along now. Starting to really show. I can't imagine being heartbroken and pregnant but it doesn't mean I couldn't do it. If I could chose again I honestly do not know what I would do. Most people when I talk to them about it tell me I made the right choice. They talk about how difficult it would have been. The truth is that part doesn't scare me. The part that scares me is that could have been my baby and I have to live with that. I thought that D would be here for this part, to make the decision easier, to reassure me that we made the decision together and it was the right one. Turns out he isn't here. I really should have decided on my own. Again hindsight is 20/20. Fuck it is a cliche for a reason.

Behind every crazy bitch is the asshole who fucked her up.

Seriously.

Flying with Dean

I got picked up at the airport today. By Dean. Yes Dean at the Kelowna West jet counter. It was flattering and funny and overall hilarious. From his quick wit, "Yes your bag is overweight but because you are so pretty I will just let it go" to his corny pick up line "you don't have to get on the plane, I know a place you could stay" .... it was all comical. I was having one of those out of body experiences where I was watching this guy and thinking this should be on tape. He is seriously pulling out all the stops, for a girl he knows is getting on an airplane and leaving in less than five minutes (yes I was really pushing the time there, but if I explain this scenerio would become an even LONGER story). Maybe he thought if he was really sweet I would tell him to whip it out and take care of him there among the baggage? Somehow I doubt it but maybe.
What I am wondering is are these the men out there? Am I destined to be with a Dean? Maybe. I mean for all I know Dean could be this great amazing guy. I mean he was cute. Bordering on handsome. He made me laugh. But was I laughing with him or at him? I think part of the fear of being twenty seven and single is that I am going to have to go back at there sooner or later (as my stepbitch keeps saying, I am not getting any younger). I am afraid of ending up with less than I had. I really loved D. With all his flaws and everything that was wrong with us I would have run away with him in a heartbeat. I do not want to start over. As my good friend pointed out to me this weekend over lunch, I am clearly afraid of never finding someone and that D is not my person! She is so CLEARLY right. But I am afraid. I am afraid of never finding someone, I am afraid of finding someone and not loving them like D, that D is my person, and I am afraid of ending up with a Dean. (Poor Dean, I must apologize Dean if this characterization of you is completely false as we did only have four lovely conversations).
So what do I make of all this? The solution that I have come to recently is that I must learn to really love being with me. Really love being alone, just in case this turns out to be my lot in life, I am going to like who I spend it with. My first action when I arrived home to put this plan in motion was to call my artist friend and tell him that he could walk me to work if he wished. Baby steps. Little tiny baby steps.

"Youth is wasted on the young"

I am at home for the weekend and it has been hard. I thought that coming home would be rejuvenating and so far I feel tired, I have cried more, and I have been dreaming non stop about him. I woke up with a feeling of absolute loneliness this morning. I had been dreaming of him and it felt so real and I woke up and I was alone in bed, and we are never talking again. It was almost enough to make me pick up the phone and call him. I came home looking for a break and found out that this time it is not possible. Some moments have been great, and I don't think about him at all and then sometimes its all I think about.
I was speaking with my Uncle last night and he quoted Wilde, I think, "youth is wasted on the young". How true. Even now I can see the mistakes made and the lessons I should have learned and didn't. The huge lesson in front of me now. The way hindsight is 20/20. He kept saying that I have another chance and how lucky I am for that opportunity. I do not have children. I am not physically harmed. I am walking away from this with the ability to recover. A chance. Its interesting that I have had such a hard time grasping this chance, because so far I feel inundated with baggage. Walking around with a gaping wound makes me feel vulnerable and like easy prey. I worry about my recovery time, and how I do not want to be old before I understand. My wasted youth, not truly understanding what has happened and how I got to where I am.