turning over leaves and shit

It's going to be a better year because it must be.
It statistically can't be worse than the last.

I'm afraid of this cautious optimism, but I suppose I could call it desperate resignation.

We'll see.

the sinking

I remember this time I told myself not to fall in love with you
and you convinced me to think with my heart not my head.
You worked so hard for me to believe you, we planned plans and made promises and then you left me for your ex.

And I found out, on my own, on the fucking internet.

I talked myself into believing that the last month of spotty conversation and strange vibes was due entirely to your illness and need to be angry about your declining health. I talked myself into believing I was being too sensitive, reading too far into things. I was wrong to do that because I was right that you were lying.

This is not a mistake I will ever make again. This is the last time I trust anyone with my heart. And I'm not going to think with anything but my head ever again.

concrete oak

my heart is big and hard and heavy
and when it feels lighter
it hurts more when it sinks
and I have to repair the cracks and refortify
without knowing if this was the last storm
or if the ship will come home.

Dagny

I want to say that I'll be seeing you around

but I won't because you're gone now.

You're flesh and bone and vacant soul.

And I keep wishing I had said more when you still could.

And I wish I'd known you better because now you're reduced to legends.

I wish that you weren't the last thing my grandfather had from before he had us

because I'm sure this will take more of a toll than he is able to pay.

You looked too small, so frail in that bed.

Your poor feet you could no longer feel.

And all your family from around the world had come because that is what you meant to us.

That the world is small and you go to where you are needed, if only to bring the soup.

You mean tire swings to us, and skinned knees, and crokinole, and fights between siblings, and hidden chocolate stashes, and mysterious houses to us.

You meant fun and laughter to us.

And you meant a hug whenever we needed it whether we knew it or not.

You're another dead woman I feel I've made a promise to. A promise you'd never have held me to in the first place.

I should have kissed you more. I should have heard more stories.

2011 fucking sucks

My aunt is in the hospital. She will die this week.

She is my grandfather's last surviving sibling. Her death will usher him out with her.

My mother's first husband just died. He was also my father's best friend.

It's killing both of them.

My mother is sick. And keeps getting bad news. I worry that she's going to get cancer and die too.

And there's nothing I can do because I am working so much.

I'm working so much because I need the money.

I'm behind on everything.

I keep spreading myself thinner and thinner just to keep up appearances. I wonder when I'm going to break.

This has been the worst year ever and it's not even winter yet. It's going to get colder and darker and more lonely for me, and how selfish is it that I'm so concerned about how I feel about everything?

Fuck.

are these values pre-assigned?

I feel like I'm walking down the up-escalator and I can't turn around.

If I stop, I'm going to fall flat on my ass, but I can't ever seem to get to the actual bottom.

So all of that pushing away I did? Yeah, it worked.

Sometimes I think I just want someone to fight for me to be in their life.

I don't want to deliberately cause strife, but it's hard to be around people who seem to be ambivalent to you when all you do is care about them.

No one is fighting for me.

Everyone seems eager and satisfied to pass me by.

Even the people who said, "Fine, if you need a break, I'll leave you alone for a few days, but I'm going to call you."

...That was 5 months ago. And then those people forgot my birthday, which would be forgivable if it weren't for bloody facebook. And the daily activity I watched from the people who said they'd call but never ever did.

I know these types of tests are unfair, but I think it's also unfair that I have to conduct them at all. I try to make my friends feel that I value them and I get nothing in return.

My sister's boyfriend is half-living here, half-out of province and when he's in the room it's like I'm invisible to her, even if we were mid-conversation. And I think that's worse than being ignored completely in the first place.

Someone once explained it as "expendability" and that's exactly what it is.

But what does it mean then, when I readily admit that every person I meet, I actively prepare for the day they're no longer in my life because they are inevitably going to leave and the only thing that makes it easier is expecting it?

trying to slog through

The weight of this is wearing me down.

I don't know how much longer I can carry it.

Why can't everything either be easy or stopped completely?

I don't want to cry anymore.

I don't want to wait anymore.

I don't want to be anymore.

What's the point of all of this if I don't enjoy anything?

I haven't laughed in so long I might have forgotten how.

And if I haven't forgotten, I'll feel guilty about it because it will mean I've let my guard down, that I've let something affect me.

I have a list of things I need to do and I'm almost done.

ticking

All of my time is spent waiting lately.

I wait for the time when I have to get out of bed.

I wait in traffic to get to work.

I wait at my desk until I can go home.

I wait in traffic to get there.

I wait until it's time for me to go to sleep.

Every day.
Even on the weekend, I wait for it to be Saturday morning.

I wait for it to be time to sleep again.

I wait for Sunday to be over.

All of this waiting and clock-staring and I accomplish nothing. Nothing is worth the effort anyway, so why bother trying?

There's no hope in my life.

I keep saying goodbye to people like it's the last time I'll see them because they're going to come to their senses and walk away from me pleasepleasepleasego.

All of this waiting is exhausting.

And I'm tearing through my library of unread books, reading 4 or 5 a week. I don't know what's going to happen when they're gone.

I'm going through the motions though. Laundry, dishes, vacuum, groceries. Not because they need to be done (although they do), but because it's just what you do. You just do these things. These are the things that mean you're "okay" and "sane" and "everything's going to be fine because look at you carrying on" but that's a lie.

And being lied to is harder than not being spoken to at all. It takes more effort, and I already mentioned that I'm exhausted.

an unexpected attack

Yesterday, after the last, there were more messages sent and received.

M: Harsh...not playing your game of negativity. Hope you find happiness, and stop lashing out at someone clearly trying to make amends.

R...: This is not a game to me. And if you wanted to make amends, you'd have done so prior to your conscience requiring it just before your departure.

M: Forget it. This is stunted growth....

R...: I want you to know that you broke my heart. Unless you actually want to talk about everything, never ever contact me again.

M: Piss off. You're bitter and hateful to me. I don't need your shit. I clearly tried to rectify the situation, and you can't get by your own hangups. I have nothing to prove or justify to you. I was and am still trying to be a good friend, so fuck yourself for turning down an opportunity to make things right.

R...: You are the one who said you weren't up for it; don't put your cowardice on me. I've been nothing but honest and forthright with you from the get-go; if you can't handle it, that's your hangup, not mine. I'm not going to pave over everything that happened just because you want to pretend that it didn't. That is not the mark of a good friend and neither was your behaviour over the last 6 months of our friendship. Your resistance to even casually try to see things from my perspective shows you to be selfish and immature. Before you call me names, you should self-evaluate. I cared enough to want to fix everything that was wrong, not just start over just before you leave town.

M: Good luck to you. You'll need it.




I have no idea what would make someone I loved want to treat me this way....

so my phone rings

and it's him.

THE him.

And I'm half-hoping it's a fucked-up pocket call.

And I let it go to voicemail, because, well, obviously.

He left me a message. An actual message.

Nearly a YEAR to the fucking DAY I told him I never wanted to talk to him again.

He's asking me if I want to go for coffee because he's "looking to leave Calgary this summer."

I can't feel my skin, my heart is in my ears.

I can't reach anyone who might care to get any advice on how to respond, so it sits for 4 hours. The elephant in the phone booth.

My sister says, "Text him." The "conversation" is as follows:

R...: Um, hi. Your call caught me off guard; I didn't expect to hear from you ever again. What do you need to talk to me about?

M: Not much, just saying hi! I'm moving to TO soon so I wanted to make some peace, whatever that means.

R...: It's going to be a tricky conversation; if we're going to talk, I feel like we need to talk about everything. Are you sure you're up for it?

M: Uh...maybe not. I'm in a good space right now, so not up for confrontation. Either way, hope you're well. Take care.

R...: I don't want a confrontation either, but it's going to be difficult to talk after a year of absolute silence. I'm not trying to make things harder for you, M. But they're not easy for me either.

R...: Walking away from our friendship took a lot out of me and I'm *still* trying to figure it out. I'm not sure what you expect from me. If you can't respond to this, then I'm sorry you tried in the first place. Have a wonderful life.

M: Let the past go. It helps with everything. I've had to learn this the hard way. Sorry you aren't over things but someday you will be.

M: I'm tying loose ends, and you were a good friend while I was here. Ignoring that is wrong on my part.

M: Sincerely, I wish you well.

R...: I got absolutely no closure from the whole situation apart from what *I* was able to say. I got nothing from you other than basically, "Get over it, drama queen." You meant a whole lot to me, and I still mourn you, but I'm happy you were able to get over everything really quickly. It's a pity that you weren't able to call me a year ago to wish me well; maybe this whole thing could have worked out. I wish I were more than just a loose end to you.

M: I get that. But I didn't choose to stop hanging out with you. You made the call. Phones work two ways, by the way. Regardless, your friendship was and is valued.

R...: Do you even *understand* why I couldn't be around you anymore or are you thinking this is still about the catalyst last March? Do you stand by the things you wrote a year ago? Before I can leave it all behind, I need to know you get my point.

*30 minutes later...*

R...: You can't even give me that. You're a coward. Go fuck yourself.



So the pot is stirred and I'm again reminded why I'll never trust anyone with my heart ever again. It's safely back in the lock box behind the fence encased in concrete and lined with lye. Never again will I let this happen to me. Never again will I go through this. I will not allow it.

My head hurts and my heart is broken again.

Thanks so much for that, M. Apparently things aren't hard enough right now, I needed that in forefront.