I'm trying
Quinn is still snuggling at night. I love her and am so glad she's here.
Last night Jade, Kels, Scotty and myself went to see cousin Deric's screening of his film "Common Chord" at the CIFF. I'd roped everyone into it simply because I wanted something to keep myself occupied after work, but I was also happy we went and supported Deric and Aubrey. The film was average, clearly not a professional production, but there were some lovely moments. It made me want to act again.
I made Kelsi bring me home after the film, even though it was only 9:30pm and they all wanted to go do something. I just wanted to be home. Alone.
I sat at my computer and worked on business stuff for a few hours, and at the same time I ended up FB chatting with this guy Kevin in Toronto, who I knew slightly through Vincent. It was his birthday a couple of days ago, so I messaged him. He responded, and we ended up chatting. His fiancee just broke things off with him a month ago so he's feeling depressed, lonely, lost. He's a musician but has been giving a day job a shot because he's 35 and feels he's failed. We commiserated for two whole hours. And it made both of us feel better, to know that we weren't alone. I talked about my business, and he commented "You're inspiring me to get back into music. You have a passion that captivating." I don't really see myself exuding that mad passion, but I still firmly believe that I've found what I'm meant to do, and I'm completely dedicated to it. I guess that shows. (Although I have moments of blistering self-doubt, but that's a whole other dish of crazy.)
Today I went through the bathrooms, living room, the entire upstairs and put everything of Mike's into his computer room. His peacock feathers I gave him for his 31st birthday, just a couple months after we started dating. His books that were mixed in with mine on the shelf. A mask he missed on the basement wall. His jackets from the closet. The "Love You" post-it with the dinosaur sticker on it that's been on the wall beside the front door for years. His cow-hide carving from Thailand that was on the travel display wall. The metal, carved plate his parents got in Europe when they were young that was hanging on the wall above our kitchen table. (Correction: his kitchen table) Every time I open the door to his room, his scent slaps me in the face. I love it, but it hurts like hell. I know the smell of him won't linger long, which is bittersweet.
I vacuumed the empty rooms in the basement. I vacuumed up the dust bunnies from where his dresser and bedside table used to sit. I threw away the plastic packaging that was still under the bathroom sink, from sex toys we've barely even used. (Some of them never got used. How tragic is that??)
I have so many regrets. I can't help looking back at how utterly stupid and selfish I was. I wonder why I was unable to open up the way I should have. Why was I holding back? What was I scared of?
I did a couple more interviews for my business this afternoon. It feels good to talk to these women who are feeling lost and uncontent, and realize that I truly believe I can help them. Sounds ironic coming from such a messily broken woman, hey? But at least I know that this pain won't last forever. At least I'm functioning through it. At least I'm aware enough to realize that despite the love and despite the current heartache, it wasn't right and I can't hold onto it. I realize that there will be better times ahead, in life and in love. And I realize I've got some serious soul-searching to do.
And after all was said and done today, I sat on the floor beside Quinn and sobbed.
I've connected with some friends and made a few plans for tomorrow and this week. I think it's probably a good thing that I'll have Jade in the house, to keep me somewhat sane and force me away from self-inflicted solitude and loneliness. I'm trying here, I'm really trying.
Last night Jade, Kels, Scotty and myself went to see cousin Deric's screening of his film "Common Chord" at the CIFF. I'd roped everyone into it simply because I wanted something to keep myself occupied after work, but I was also happy we went and supported Deric and Aubrey. The film was average, clearly not a professional production, but there were some lovely moments. It made me want to act again.
I made Kelsi bring me home after the film, even though it was only 9:30pm and they all wanted to go do something. I just wanted to be home. Alone.
I sat at my computer and worked on business stuff for a few hours, and at the same time I ended up FB chatting with this guy Kevin in Toronto, who I knew slightly through Vincent. It was his birthday a couple of days ago, so I messaged him. He responded, and we ended up chatting. His fiancee just broke things off with him a month ago so he's feeling depressed, lonely, lost. He's a musician but has been giving a day job a shot because he's 35 and feels he's failed. We commiserated for two whole hours. And it made both of us feel better, to know that we weren't alone. I talked about my business, and he commented "You're inspiring me to get back into music. You have a passion that captivating." I don't really see myself exuding that mad passion, but I still firmly believe that I've found what I'm meant to do, and I'm completely dedicated to it. I guess that shows. (Although I have moments of blistering self-doubt, but that's a whole other dish of crazy.)
Today I went through the bathrooms, living room, the entire upstairs and put everything of Mike's into his computer room. His peacock feathers I gave him for his 31st birthday, just a couple months after we started dating. His books that were mixed in with mine on the shelf. A mask he missed on the basement wall. His jackets from the closet. The "Love You" post-it with the dinosaur sticker on it that's been on the wall beside the front door for years. His cow-hide carving from Thailand that was on the travel display wall. The metal, carved plate his parents got in Europe when they were young that was hanging on the wall above our kitchen table. (Correction: his kitchen table) Every time I open the door to his room, his scent slaps me in the face. I love it, but it hurts like hell. I know the smell of him won't linger long, which is bittersweet.
I vacuumed the empty rooms in the basement. I vacuumed up the dust bunnies from where his dresser and bedside table used to sit. I threw away the plastic packaging that was still under the bathroom sink, from sex toys we've barely even used. (Some of them never got used. How tragic is that??)
I have so many regrets. I can't help looking back at how utterly stupid and selfish I was. I wonder why I was unable to open up the way I should have. Why was I holding back? What was I scared of?
I did a couple more interviews for my business this afternoon. It feels good to talk to these women who are feeling lost and uncontent, and realize that I truly believe I can help them. Sounds ironic coming from such a messily broken woman, hey? But at least I know that this pain won't last forever. At least I'm functioning through it. At least I'm aware enough to realize that despite the love and despite the current heartache, it wasn't right and I can't hold onto it. I realize that there will be better times ahead, in life and in love. And I realize I've got some serious soul-searching to do.
And after all was said and done today, I sat on the floor beside Quinn and sobbed.
I've connected with some friends and made a few plans for tomorrow and this week. I think it's probably a good thing that I'll have Jade in the house, to keep me somewhat sane and force me away from self-inflicted solitude and loneliness. I'm trying here, I'm really trying.