A friend recommended that Yours Truly writes down things for which to be thankful. Today I am thankful for having a French-style lunch (yes, wine at noon) with my French friends. I could get used to this.
It has been a year. A year of pain, a year of loss, a year of darkness. But also it has been a year of learning, a year of understanding, and of daring to hope. I have made many discoveries and met some amazing people, even though it is only online. There was a lot of progress made and then I regressed again and plunged back into darkness back in March. I am starting to do better again. One day at a time, right?
Regardless, the 2014 has so far been better than 2013, even though Yours Truly is quite likely to become unemployed in the next couple of weeks at a time when it would be rather financially unfortunate. At least I am not crippled by my depression and by the sorrow of the love lost.
This blogging community and the process of blogging have helped me enormously to discover myself and make sense of my world. Despite the five month long setback, there is some sense of purpose and of a road map to better life.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…
Here’s one of the reasons why Yours Truly has so few friends. Recently, I have had a dubious pleasure of watching a film entitled “White House Down”. If you ever have an opportunity to watch it, don’t bother. It did however have an interesting twist at the end and I would without a doubt watch the sequel about this situation.
WARNING: SPOILER ALERT!!! I AM ABOUT TO SAY WHAT HAPPENS AT THE END OF THE MOVIE.
So the legitimately elected President of the United States is declared unable to fulfill his duties and is replaced by his vice-president who is promptly killed. As the line of succession dictates, the Speaker of the House is then sworn in as president. But (SPOILER ALERT!), the Speaker is the bad guy and is revealed as such and is promptly detained thereafter. Except that he is the President of the United States and one would assume that the president cannot just be detained. But here’s the most frustrating thing: the movie ends on the most interesting – for me – part. There’s the elected president who has been declared unable to fulfill his duties and was replaced by other, who in turn, upon his untimely death is replaced by the bad guy who does not get killed. So we got a “former/original” president who is treated like an actual president and an actual president who is detained and is being treated like a criminal. Can you see the constitutional crisis brewing? Now that’s a movie I would watch!
Hello my dearest. It has been a long time since I have last written to you. Since the last time, I have not expected to write again and yet here we are.
It has been a year since you left me and, oh, what a rough year it has been. A stormy time when waves of anguish, squalls of despair, and clouds of darkness were my constant companions. Say what you will about the dark thoughts, at least they stay.
We have met face to face a couple of times since the worst of the storm has past. It was all very adult and civilised. Yet underneath my calm demeanour a vortex of the pyre of my love for you still burns as strongly as when I wrote that fateful letter that set you off so greatly.
Not many things have changed in my life in these past twelve months. Still as troubled as long before our lives intersected, I have made strides to improve my dreary existence, to believe in myself, to believe there is a better future for me. These last twelve months of extensive psychotherapy have also opened my eyes to see your actions in a more realistic light of not being all that ethical or worthy. And yet it remains a mystery to my therapists and to myself why I still love you. What poison have I drank to still be infected this way? What sin have I committed to still suffer the consequences? Or is love itself is my cardinal transgression?
The road ahead of me is dark and full of mysteries. One hopes that when I see the light, it will be the end of the tunnel and not the light of the oncoming train.
Why am I so bloody angry? And I am. All the time. I am going on this rock climbing outing. In the group comments on the interwebs where the organising happens somebody posted a question about how we will be getting up to the site. So the first thing that popped into my head was “Fucking donkeys. I have never been in a donkey cart before and I feel now is my chance.” Came real close to actually posting that answer too. Then I saw my friend tagged me in a Facebook post and I got really excited about it – because very few people ever do that – until I read the post. She nominated me to say three positive things each day for seven days. So while before something positive was a respite for my brain which goes “What the fuck? What the fuck? WHAT. THE. FUCK!” the rest of the time and during positive moments is sort of like “Oh. OK.”, now I have to think about it and note it in order to post it later on because otherwise I’m that negative arsehole. Which I am but do not necessarily want to keep on being one. So I have to act and pretend being positive. And now this feels like a remedial assignment because I failed being positive enough the rest of the time. Why can’t I be a normal fucking human being?
Here are some “next-day-after-spending-day-climbing-with-the-ex” thoughts: 1. It is unbearable to be just friends with someone you love, to stay calm and composed when all you ache to do is hug them, and kiss them, and never let go; and 2. I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really need a drink. Also, kinda-sorta 3. I cannot stop living my life because our paths might cross on occasion.
Ok. So I spent the day rock climbing with a nice group of people that I have went with before. Except today the group included my ex. You know, the one this entire bloody blog is about.
So now we know two things. One, Yours Truly is doing much better than before. And two, I am still totally in live with her.
I ran into her again. We exchanged a few words. She smiled. Bloody hell, I missed that smile!