Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
And so, in the latest chapter of my Douglas Sirkian life adventure (the one where everything is absolutely perfect except the love life which is wildly, comically uneven -- "Oh we're going to be off again/on again till we're 95" I told my mother on Saturday) I've discovered that actually loving someone doesn't necessarily make them love you back, and even if you think they do, and you think they're cute and awkward and Aspergers-y and can't say it, and so you'll just pretend that they do, and soldier on in the hope that it will transform, it's actually not the case. And today I found it out for certain.
Not much fun. Not a great way to end a pretty happy hard-working weekend. Not a great way to look forward to Thanksgiving or Christmas. In fact, somewhat shitty. I was at an interview at NPR when I found out this news, and had to tell the engineer that I had allergies because I was sniffing so much. When the choice is to burst into tears or to focus on what's going on around you, an interesting NPR interview wins every time (also the hope that Mandalit Del Barco or Ofevia Quist-Arcton might appear at any minute). Even more shitty, because I was in the process of planning his birthday party, and feeling childishly giddy at the prospect, as you do, when it's new love (or not, as the case may be). Did I feel like a ninny!
"That's a game-changer" said my ex-husband (the only one I can bear to bore any more with this stuff). "You are able to put up with a lot of shit, I know that about you, and you can forgive almost anything, but if he doesn't love you, then why bother?" Why bother indeed. I think there is a shred of self-respect left, enough to know when I've been beat. And beat me, this did. No faint scent of badger. No sounds of pheasants roosting. Just the sad acknowledgement that trying hard doesn't always get you what you want (and the dawning, rather lovely, feeling of capitulation in the knowledge that you do, indeed, deserve to be loved back, and to have someone who is crazy/nuts for you and can't wait to hear your voice and laugh with you).
Most people learn this stuff in their twenties. I am a late bloomer, apparently.
Tonight, I've seen a great movie, and had a bowl of roasted tomato soup. Tomorrow, I will rise at 6 to ride my horse, and walk in the early morning fog with my dogs, and breathe some fresh air into my lungs and remind myself that I have done it before and I can do it again: yes, there's love if you want it (thank you, The Verve) but make sure you're looking in the right places.
Good night, lovely ones.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
The stars were wild that summer evening
As on the low lake shore stood you and I
And every time I caught your flashing eye
Or heard your voice discourse on anything
It seemed a star went burning down the sky.
I looked into your heart that dying summer
And found your silent woman's heart grown wild
Whereupon you turned to me and smiled
Saying you felt afraid but that you were
Weary of being mute and undefiled
I spoke to you that last winter morning
Watching the wind smoke snow across the ice
Told of how the beauty of your spirit, flesh,
And smile had made day break at night and spring
Burst beauty in the wasting winter's place.
You did not answer when I spoke, but stood
As if that wistful part of you, your sorrow,
Were blown about in fitful winds below;
Your eyes replied your worn heart wished it could
Again be white and silent as the snow.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
I recommend a couple of things for re-jiggling your system: dogs (or animals in general), laughing, kundalini yoga, walking in nature, sleep, water (or all of the above).
Miss W xoxo
Monday, October 27, 2014
"You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting."
Sunday, October 26, 2014
I've eaten a fried egg sandwich and had a cup of tea and now I'm going to take my dogs for a hike in the mountains.
Thank you, everyone, for being there.
I am lost today. I have spent a year in love with someone who for whatever reason feels that I am someone I don't recognize. And I've spent a year with someone who goes away and doesn't feel the need to speak to me when he gets back. And I have to tell you, that doesn't feel very good. It actually undermines everything.
I know this is temporary. I know that I shall rally. I know that I have friends, but I am feeling intensely alone at the moment.
And I only have myself to blame. I am a grown woman who has made my own decisions and chosen the direction of my life. I was with a man for 28 years who decided that we shouldn't be married any more. And I suppose he was right. But still, three years, still reeling from that, it feels almost impossible that I have made a wrong choice again.
Isn't all we want in the world as human beings to be loved, to be understood, to have two strong arms to hold us when we feel this way?
I am questioning everything. I hope it's Mercury. I hope it will go away. I hope that this horrible day will be over soon and that tomorrow will be brighter, happier, full of hope. I don't know what to do with this feeling.
Because, honestly, what would be the point of anything? I didn't know it was possible to feel this deflated.
I feel like a complete ninny.
I pull these quotes in the middle of night, they're like things to hold on to when I feel like I'm sinking. Here's the one from James Baldwin.
I think we all need something to hold on to, and I wish it were each other.
I've always had another, been part of a two that feels like a one, someone who had my back and made me feel loved and comforted, someone to turn to, and so this single malarkey isn't easy. I'm not sure where to turn or how. I am a little lost, to be honest.
Forgive me, please.
One must say Yes to life, and embrace it wherever it is found - and it is found in terrible places... For nothing is fixed, forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.
James Baldwin (1924 - 1987)