On the Sidelines

So...reality still bites since being smacked in the face with it, and I have been battling the Black Dog. I am fighting to hang in there in the hopes that when work resumes my outlook will improve...although I realized that what I thought upon first glance was amazing news turned out to be only mediocre in terms of prospects for the upcoming year, and I will still have to push to get what I need to make a bigger difference. Rehearsals are the only thing currently keeping me afloat....that and the little pats on the back I am able to give myself each day I get up and make my bed before noon and manage to eat sensibly and get some exercise in. Of course, then there are the days when I hide from my life under the covers and wish with all my heart that when I open my eyes I will have fantasized my world into being how I want it to be. No such luck so far. I do, however, remain mostly cigarette free, minus a couple of socials I've had with smoker friends when I felt about to break.

As expected, nothing has really panned out in terms of the love interests. The French guy is a great conversationalist and was fun to meet but has since flown The Rock to return home, the engineer is a truly amazing guy but I just don't feel it (which makes me sad) and have learned from experience that I cannot create spark where there is none, and the teacher and I are still chit chatting, but more infrequently. The engineering technician now seems all words and no follow through (I think it's now time to write him off), the blond and the British Columbian seem to have disappeared, and the young software guy pops up from time to time but we have still yet to meet. There are others thrown into the mix as well, but I honestly wonder why I continue to bother.

I think part of my problem is the knowledge that summer is coming to an end (which is good and bad). And that I am still in the same situation I've been in, more or less, for the past two years. It's also the fact that social media duly informs me daily that one by one my friends, family, and acquaintances are all falling in love, getting engaged or married, having babies, receiving promotions, buying new houses or vehicles...and, much as this makes me happy for them, it makes me go under in self pity mode as I wonder how much longer I will have to wait and watch until it is my turn. My life feels flat...empty...meaningless. My surroundings currently hold no charm, and my world feels dim. Truly, we really don't get enough sunshine here.

Absent

Where are you when I talk to you and my words bounce off your ears? Why can you not be present? The number of times I am asked to repeat myself is almost insulting...except that I know you are not you. And then you claim to not know the things I have already told you. It is so difficult to choke back the frustration and disappointment. I love you dearly, my friend, but I very rarely get to see you these days. Your self-imposed isolation has become more literal than metaphorical and has no explanation...or one that makes so little sense I am not sure what to make of it. I don't know how to reach you or what to expect when I finally do...will it be anger I find? Sadness? Loneliness? Or am I expected to pretend, yet again, that everything is normal? When did this anomaly become acceptable in my world? I long to remove these kid gloves and walk on something more substantial than eggshells. I'm so weary of having the same conversation and making/accepting excuses on your behalf. I can no longer cope in this role. Where are you?

Sometimes Others Say It Best

As were many Canadians, I was truly saddened by the loss of Jack Layton. On the NL BlogRoll circuit, the evidence is clear:

John Gushue posted this video from The National
WiseWebWoman offered this cartoon
ViewPoint2010 shared Jack's last words to Canadians
and Charlie wrote of his thoughts on Mr. Layton

As someone who is rarely interested in the political scene as much as I (perhaps) should be, there's not a whole lot I can talk about right now in that regard. What I can honestly say is that not many politicians make a really strong impression on me. Jack Layton is one of a select few who did. He inspired my respect, admiration, and thanks. He was a great man and will most definitely be missed.

Heartsick Meanderings

Today has been rough, yet again. I'm coming down with what feels like the flu and that only makes the missing worse. The one comfort I got today was in talking to my cousin, who told me that not even ten minutes after we talked on Sunday he ended up calling to talk to her husband (his brother). He expressed that he was having a tough time with the situation and hated that he had hurt me and asked how I was doing. She assured me that he had cared every bit as much as it had appeared he had...that I had done the right thing in responding the way I had, and that he will no doubt be spending the time until she comes doing some serious thinking. My cousin also commented that she doesn't think she's ever seen me like this over another man...that I usually bounce back fairly quickly and don't suffer this way. It's funny because I was pondering the same thing myself prior to our conversation. Have I ever felt this way? It certainly feels like a different kind of pain and loss than I remember experiencing before. Anyway, the goal for tomorrow is to try and recapture some sort of normalcy and productivity. Keeping busy seems to be as good a plan as any...So does trying to be in bed before 3am for the first time in a week...

Coping With The Aftermath

In general, there is an emptiness...as if a piece of me is missing. Although a friend comfortingly pointed out that experiences shape the soul and if he is now a part of my soul he will always be with me in a way. That and a hot Portuguese marine who provided an excellent distraction got me through the past few days. Now it's back to real life and pushing myself to let go, move on, and get through this. I am coping fairly well, but everything feels very lackluster and mundane for the time being...

Live Each Day Like It's Your Last

I had some sad news today...a close friend of my family died of a heart attack at work. I didn't really know him well...but he was my father's best friend and has been a friend of my mother's for the past 40 years, as well as several of my other family members and they are all shocked and upset by his sudden passing. His daughters used to babysit my brother and me when we were younger. And I had always meant to have a sit down with him and talk about my father (who died when I was really young). I figured who else to get some insight from than his former best friend? A couple of years ago I ran into him during the holidays and the thought crossed my mind that I should do it then - but the timing and the setting were not right. I thought I'd wait for a better time. I waited too long.

The Battle of Head Vs Heart

I've been thinking of him a lot today. The Labradorian. The urge to call him tonight was so strong that I went as far as to look up his number online (I had purposely deleted all his contact information along with removing him from my facebook friends list weeks ago. The intent was to obliterate all temptation to reach out to him. I wanted to erase the sick feeling seeing his name and face engendered in me after I came to the realization that things weren't as they had been between us. Who needs constant reminders of disappointment like that?). I fought it. But it was hard. And he's still on my mind.

It's a little embarrassing to admit that I kept our correspondence (along with one of the voicemail messages he left me...how pathetic is that?). I haven't been able to bring myself to delete it yet and tonight was the first time I allowed myself to reread some of the emails. Probably not a good idea, in retrospect. But I knew that before I started to read (sucker for punishment much?).

I did the math and realized that it's been 6 weeks since the last message. It was one I wrote to him...one that he didn't respond to. And that sent a message of it's own, loud and clear. It's part of the reason I didn't pick up the phone in the end. If he wanted to talk to me he could've called or emailed. He didn't. So why subject myself to further rejection and embarrassment? Why give him the ammunition to take another shot at my pride? I know what I would say to a friend if she was in my position. Somehow that is cold comfort. Yet it is also the thought of appearing weak and stupid in my friends eyes that also halted my hand in it's tracks when it was itching to reach for the receiver. I don't think any of them would actually say that to me, but I wonder if they would think it. I might.

This is relatively new territory for me. Usually if I do get the notion to contact someone like that, it goes away almost as quickly as it came or I can talk myself out of it fairly quickly, at least. Not so in this case. I keep wanting to believe he was different. And the psychic the other day didn't help. He (the psychic) said that The Labradorian was a very pleasant man and that our conversations had been good (tell me something I don't know). He said that The Labradorian might be the one and then again maybe not (vague and inconclusive, I know, but enough to replant the seed of longing somewhat). He said that it couldn't hurt to contact The Labradorian...that if he is The One, things will pan out and if he isn't then they won't go anywhere (genius, no?).

As I said before, I'm not even sure how much I buy into psychic readings and whatnot...but it was enough to up the amount The Labradorian has been on my mind again and to make me start pondering everything again...not that I ever really stopped. Is it just loneliness and lack of another interest that continually brings him to the forefront of my mind and makes me wonder how he's doing and whether he thinks of me? Is that the driving force behind this desire to hear his voice? Is it just that the silly, typical, good girl part of me is wondering whether I did something wrong to cause this and whether there is a way to fix it? Or is it more than that? Should I take a risk? Or should I just give my head a shake and reaffirm (once again) that he obviously was not the right one and isn't worth my time, thoughts, or energy anymore?

I guess I'll resort to doing what I've been doing off and on for the past 6 weeks whenever it's cropped up...sit with it for another night while simultaneously trying to shove it out of my consciousness...but I won't deny that I hope fate decides to put us in the same place sometime just to see what would happen...

There are times when I think that, in some ways, it might actually be better to be a man...

Sad Reminders

I watched snippets of the Royal Wedding today. It made me sad. Well, correction...I was already sad and it made me worse. There's just something about that little girl dream of marrying a prince and watching someone actually do that just made me yearn even more for what I don't have and maybe never will. I'm still thinking about the last guy...the one who made me believe again and then disappeared. That shook my faith in my happily ever after more than any of the jerks and deadbeats ever did. And I feel so alone.