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This is the time of day when we would be talking, about what we did today, about how much we miss each other, about how it feels like its been weeks, about our plans for the upcoming long weekend.  Instead, silence.  I so wanted to spend this long weekend with my guy.

At work, and tired.  I suppose the insubstantial sustenance of the day (Pop-Tart, Red Bull, Latte, Pork Chop – and now blackberries) could be a contributing factor.  I should care more, but right now I don’t.  I put food in the machine so it can keep working, albeit at minimum capacity – that’s about it.

What is he doing now?  I am wistful.

I can already feel its going to be a long night here for me.  I might be able to split it into tomorrow, and get files pulled for Thursday. But it HAS to be tomorrow.

And now self-pity rears its ugly head.  What did I do to deserve him leaving me? Fatigue is my nemesis…

As love is a part of life, and all parts of life hurt sometimes, I suppose the answer is yes.  Would I trade it?  No.

That panic and misery that I feel from the loss of Russ abates momentarily – a blessing – and I am filled with calm confidence and strength in our future – the future of which he is a part.  I breathe in these moments and then they pass like the sun on a stormy day in the tropics and I am left chasing that pure spot of warmth.

I pass the “private” hallway where I would go to talk to him at work and it hurts.

He has not lost me.  I hope he finds he doesn’t want to lose me after these (now) 58 days, days I find myself growing resigned to.

And sometimes I just want to shout at him to GET THE HELL OUT OF HIS OWN WAY.  And let go of the past – both mine and his.  Trust the universe.  But as I learned from my marriage and many parodies of tourists, saying things loudly and slowly just doesn’t make them sink in, unless the other person understands – and in this case believes it in his core.

Ah, but I miss him so.  And I hope he can find the strength to stop tormenting himself and find peace with the us that is our future.

I am starting to sound like a broken record, but I am writing this for me, so I give myself permission to do that.  I wonder if that expression “sound like a broken record” will evolve out of our culture with the up-and-coming generation that does not know what a “record” is in that context?

On my way to the second job (gee, only 6 more hours of work to go), the panic settles over me again.  Russ, have I already lost you?  Russ, do  you WANT to lose me?  I try to breathe through it, but only find myself yearning to talk to him.

Back to work.


Interesting to see how, as I was saying before about change, the universe sometimes shows you how aligned things are, even when it appears that everything is in chaos.  Sometimes you get just the gentle reminder that you need that you are okay on your path and you don’t have to know everything, or know how everything will turn out, right now.

(I still cannot help but check my little phone, hoping he will have changed his mind and come back to me, and I am sad when I am only greeted with the blue date, not a little number.)

In meeting with the creative director of an ad agency trying to pitch me on their services, we got to talking at the end in that obligitory little “I don’t really care, but I have to do this, so let me know you as a person, potential customer” conversation that you have in the business realm.  But it was what I needed to hear and what I needed to say.  We talked about our divorces, our loss of our (coincidentally) marriages of 18 years.  I told him about our plans for a bar in the Caribbean.  He told me of his brain surgery.  It was good to talk to someone outside of my current sphere, a stranger, who carried the message that it is hard, but it is worth it to seek simplicity in your life, to leave a relationship that has run its course, and do so by saying “I want the best for you in your future – and what we have in this marriage is not best for either of us.”  Sometimes, another party is a catalyst, as is the case with me, and sometimes it is an event – like an car accident.  But you cannot pick when you find your soulmate (gag at the term, but it’s true – we talked about this too) – you only have the choice to say “I open myself to this person, this love,  and am willing to take great risks for great rewards” or to say “No, this isn’t the right time for me to find a soulmate, maybe later, I’ll find one someday.”  I choose the former.   “Later” and “someday” never come.


I almost wish I could get sick so I can stop doing, stop thinking for a while, just lie on the couch and feel as bad as I possibly can physically, so that I can feel better once I start getting well.  Not good self-care-taking, I must let that go, or I will manifest it.

The late night Tylenol has left me groggy.  It is 7:30 am and I have crawled back into bed to feast on a cold Blueberry Pop-Tart.  Not exactly the Breakfast of Champions.  I miss my guy – will he come back to me? – and I would even be willing to eat oatmeal every day as I once promised.  Perhaps I shall start doing so as a sign of faith.

I am presently in an state of exhausted calm.  The briefest numeric text this morning was a comfort, and I hope Russ’ morning went okay – I am sure it was emotional on many different levels. 

In this strange state, I am contemplating change.  Change seems to be coming hard and fast, not just to me, but to so many people in this world right now – it feels like a grand planetary shift sometimes, with the government, the economy.  There seems to be no way to isolate or protect oneself from it, and it could be good change or bad change, but it is surely movement.   People are being laid off all over the county, and with the end of our fiscal year looming, I can sense the executioner sharepening his ax and practicing his swishes.  I just can’t tell where the ax will fall in March.  As with the Laws of Attraction, I am trying not to think about it in a negative sense, or I will certainly bring it to me.  But there’s a fine line between sticking your head in the sand for the sake of positive thinking and preparing for a shift that may not occur.  Perhaps more a delicate balance than a fine line.   And to top it all off, that kind of change might be just what I need right now to roust myself out of this place of illusory financial and job security and get me off my ass and doing what I want to do (what I am meant to do) – write, take pictures, travel.  If I have to have a job, go work for a non-profit where I can feel like I’m doing something rewarding, something that gives back.  Or revive my massage therapy skills and work for myself.  Health insurance is always the bear to be confronted in working for oneself. 

I see my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, with him having lost his job, and her with MS and now no health insurance, preparing to sell their home of the past 26 years, that they’ve just gotten as they want it, because they can no longer afford it.  The plan is to buy a motor home (sound familiar?) and travel around, maybe buy a little house in Salida, as they like it down there.  The loss of having them close by will be hard for Kelsea – and for me to.  Although I am extracting myself from that side of the family, my sister-in-law is one of my closest friends.  But all of this is just in the thinking stages right now.

One thing I do know is that beating yourself up about the pain you have caused does absolutely no good at all.  It helps no one, it heals no one, and it moves you exactly nowhere – it just makes all prior movement that has caused that pain totally pointless.  What good is that, especially when that movement could be positive if you can see past your own and others pain?  You must have the strength within you to own up to what you want and recognize that there are prices for it – and they can be high, but what you want is worth it.

No more profound summations here, just the end of the morning write.  I’ve got to find a Starbucks, something you’ll almost never hear me say.

January 2009
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