Bearing Down, Shedding Layers, Saying Goodbye.

bukowski

One week from now I will have shed all of my stuff, left attachments behind and will have landed in Montreal.

Currently my emotions waver from love of this city, a few things, some key people.

The last week:  Bandida’s and sangria, mimosas in a nearby park,  white russians at the Big Lebowski.

A Joni Mitchell tribute night at a house nearby that has a covered balcony with couches, glowing lights, vines.

And he read me Bukowski and she braided my hair.

Then pie, a seawall walk, a film noir, a special dinner at Espana with my soul sister.

A going away party with mad libs, bow ties…open hearts.

The day after that lounging in bed with someone that I wish…no, I’m not wishing anymore.

A last write-night with a bottle of pinot and I felt light, ready.

I felt loved.

I know there are still things eating away at me – literally they eat away at my stomach lining. And I feel ill.

Getting rid of old things (I mean stuff/attachments, not beings!) is liberating…and scary.

The hour before the vet appointment was the longest hour in the world. I just wanted it done. And then in that room how she nuzzled into the crook of my arm.

I’ve been listening to old mixed tapes and wondering why I kept them so long. I suppose at some point in time we couldn’t just find any old music anywhere …so it was more special. More valuable.

I’m wondering whether sentimentality has a purpose; is it good or bad that I want most of my things gone like this? It feels crazy.

And there is just so much stuff. So much.

Even with relationships – we have access to more relationships at a time with travel, globalization. It’s a double-edged sword in that there is always something new – so possibility is around the corner – but then we maybe aren’t as motivated to hold onto the good things. Maybe we just don’t focus enough on quality.

Is there someone out there for me? A new best friend? A more suitable lover? Will I see my old lovers and have it not be wrong?

I’m confused, a little; and I still feel judged.

Frankly (feeling) love is exhausting these days. I’m spent with feeling so good one moment and then rotten the next. I am not giving it well enough either, for the most part. Not in the right directions.

For that I am sorry. I wish I’d loved you (you, you) better.

I will really miss my friend-family here…but I’m also spent. I take responsibility for participating in some of the dynamics that exhaust me (and them).

Mostly, these relationships lift me. But sometimes not.

I guess that is normal… but here things just run so deep. It’s beautiful and intense and I would not trade it for the world.

But I’m okay to go, maybe just for a while.

Is leaving really going to be better? Is it a relief, a healthy change, or a distraction? Will I really be okay…let alone better, like I envision? Or is it just false hope?

We may attribute meaning by choice, but I can’t just leave the feelings behind.

Or can I, in a positive way? I guess the question is: should I? Is it right to somehow want to feel less in some ways?

There are loved ones on the other side and that will be a whole new set of feelings, dynamics. Not always simple, I’m sure…but solid. So incredibly solid. And how lucky am I to have community in both places? 

So, we can relax or we can worry (this video helps me all the time): 

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Taking it all too seriously (for better or worse)

Years ago I met someone online.

When I asked what he liked / noticed about me (my profile/online presence/whatever), he said that he liked me because he sensed that I didn’t take myself too seriously.

This comment has stuck with me since. I remember I was taken aback at the time: my first thought was ‘oh so he thinks I’m easy’ and then I realized that he thought that I could laugh at myself – or, with myself. And others.

A sense of humour?

I haven’t felt very funny these past few days. It’s been hot and I’ve been working in my apartment. It’s a long weekend and I didn’t really make plans. I was – sort of – invited to pride festivities, though not explicitly.

Not explicitly.

This seems to be more and more the story of my life. Sure, I understand my part in it. But it’s a long hot weekend in the city – my last one for a while. I even had a bit of money to spare.

And here it is again…this loneliness. I want to be on the beach with my friends, camping. I saw photos of my – friend, I guess – doing fun stuff outside all weekend.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to come out much this weekend, but…something? Isn’t there something?

I say what I want, what I value. Just the beach. Just Scrabble. Whatever – easy and cheap things. That’s what I want to do. But when push comes to shove it’s not happening.

I had plans last night. The person was out partying and drunk and didn’t answer the phone and then didn’t call me until 9p, at which time I was so tired and felt like an afterthought anyhow.

I’ve been there before – at home, sort of waiting for the other person to finish playing. Then unsatisfied when we spend some time and they are not present/passing out anyhow.

That’s not real time spent. That is not presence.

I’ve been the person waiting at home way too many times.  

I have a month – or less. And I have reached out – at least a little – for company. Told them that time with them, now, was important to me.

And I know they show up for me. But now. What about now? I need that now. And I’m not being heard. Are you hearing me now?

And this loneliness is really killing me this time around. I can’t take it.

I hope that I can look back and laugh at this sooner rather than later. Because the knot in my stomach and my overflowing eyes (I’ve cried at least once/day for the past few) aren’t really telling of that.

I know how to change this feeling and that it won’t last forever. I understand how I have power over it, over my life.

But I’m freaked out and it feels that time is slipping away and – well, I need a hug. Really that’s what I wanted, maybe, last night, or today. Just a hug. An ear.

A shoulder.

I won’t weigh you down. I just want to know that it matters. That I matter. That any of it matters.

I might sound dramatic right now – but I think that most of us have been here. Which is why I’m putting it out there.

I hear you loud and clear, universe. I need to find new ways to laugh.

So actually I laugh at how ridiculous this whole feeling is…the fact that I feel so low at all sometimes, that I let others have power over me in these ways.

But when I’m sad I’m still going to say it.

Sometimes.

(And Just like that these words are on the page and I feel lighter and a little bit excited about the day. I’m going to go to New Brighton pool and swim and sit in the park and look at the water and write and it will be good. And I’ll reach out a little bit more today to the people that I love and if they don’t see me that is okay. Because at least I tried. And much of this heaviness will be gone soon thank god but I will miss my friends/family here I know I will and I’m sorry I’m so selfish sometimes.)