Monday, November 15, 2010

Wine drinking, and how I'm doing

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So, the day is finally over. It was a Monday, and I was worried about it before it began. In some type of funk, I slept on top of my bed's comforter, curled up in my other comforter, tossing and turning much of the night, and waking up almost an hour before my alarm, which is when my roommate left the house.

Being at home for four days straight took its toll on me: I grew re-accustomed to the quiet of my house, of waking up and looking out my bathroom window at the perfectly blue sky and my mother's fuchsia bougainvillea plant. I readjusted to the smell of my house, and its feel, and sound. So, this morning, and much of last night, I'm sure my body was disoriented. It's hard living in two places: never quite letting go of home, and never quite attaching to here.

However, today's Monday wasn't as bad as other Mondays I've had, and I spent much of the day in deep thought about the future, and now, as I sit here writing to you, I'm in semi-deep thought about how I'm doing, and how I haven't spoken to you much lately. So, before writing other things that are on my mind, I thought I'd catch you up to the present.


I've spoken a lot about this person that I call him in this blog. Let me tell you a bit more (than he would be comfortable with). Him is my ex-boyfriend, though ex-boyfriend is not sufficient enough to describe him. In fact, all that term does is describe the fact that for a period of time, we declared (or didn't, because I don't think we ever actually did) ourselves as dating each other, only, and at some point not long after that, we declared that to no longer be true. However, that declaration didn't stop much of anything.

Long story short, him is someone I talk about all the time, because he is still a very active part of my life. He brought HD technicolor to my world. And now, he is leaving.

Him has found himself an opportunity to be gainfully employed abroad, and he's taking that opportunity, and leaving the States. Part of me admires him for this, and part of me is clinging to his leg. This is a really big deal, the fact that the routine that has become him and me is getting ready to completely change. There will be no more visits, no more laughs in the warmth of his bedroom, no more middle of the night texts, no more waking up to see his drowsy face, eyelashes curled toward the ceiling.

Whenever I visit home, part of me will have to remind the other parts of me that there is no going over to his apartment, because he doesn't live there anymore. There's no more need to let him know when I'm coming home, or what time I'll be getting there. We won't be going out to TGI Friday's; we won't be going to Antigua. We won't be drinking anymore, and we won't be smoking anymore. (Not that we've done those things in quite some time, anyway.)

It has hit me, but it hasn't hit me, that in a few short days, part of me will live abroad, indefinitely. I'm not sure if that part of me will ever return, or whether part of me will live, forever roaming.

Maybe we'll share an email, or two, (or many more), or maybe we'll join the Skypers and get in a video chat, or maybe I'll even get a letter, though that's a romantic notion. Or maybe, we won't. Maybe, we will become for one another, a memory of lives we used to live, of fun times we used to have. Or maybe I'll just become that way for him.

In short, that's what's been going on with me lately. There were other things that I planned on writing about, but truthfully, this has been simultaneously at the forefront of me, and buried very deeply within me.

Once again, I am at the place where I am trying to numb some of the feeling away. Never again will I wish to be completely numb, but just a tiny bit, like when you hurt yourself, and you affix a piece of ice to the place of the hurt, but remove it when it gets too cold.

I could say many other things, but no words will really suffice. My emotions speak far further than my words.


until the end of time, i'll be there for you
you own my heart and mind--i truly adore you
if God one day struck me blind
your beauty i'd still see
love's too weak to define, just what you mean to me

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