A Euro for your thoughts?
I am back.
When everyone asks me how Europe was, I laugh, and say, somehow- someway- I'm alive.
They think it is a joke, but really, I was worried. Not even worried, just expectant, that the trip would be my demise. When I left my apartment, it felt like the last time. It was liberating though, in a way. To not worry about death. It consumes me. More so after the accident. I realize now more than ever we are all on some collision course to death, and the lucky of us make it to old age. When we got on the plane from Amsterdam, I couldn't believe we made it that far.
It was an incredible trip. Norma and I wrote everything down in the journal I brought. I had had visions of sitting at a cafe - writing and writing, giving a good summary of my life over the last year - but there just wasn't enough time. Like the exchange rate - the time just goes more quickly there. Any free time I had was spent towards making up the sleep debt incurred from the late night parties.
I am at Volcano now, thank you to the man who has opted for some slow tunes by Rolling Stones, Tom Petty and some other bluesy rock. It's hitting the spot. So is this hot chocolate.
So much to atone for, an overwhelming amount. It's hard to decide where to begin. I guess I will start with love-
Cliff still crosses my mind nearly everyday. It isn't the painful longing that it was before though. It's turned into a curiosity, and an optimistic paranoia that he too is finding his way. The contrast of wanting to be ingratiated into his life is eclipsed by the fact that my day to day well being is much more satisfying without him. The clarity of having him out my life has lead me to the conclusion that I pursued things at the wrong time. I would like to think he is still waiting for me, but pessimistically and realistically, I hope that he is not. While happy, and open to love again, I am not ready for Cliff still. A big part of me thinks I will always have a spot for him in my heart, and our paths will collide one day - and it will all just fall into place. It is this time of year that makes me nostalgic for him. It was when things began - the late nights at Chili's, The Parlor, Trudy's, the following year that he dropped the bomb, and last year when his shadow was cast on everything even though he was gone. This year, he is just a lingering after thought. Like a bitter dessert coffee. It still keeps you up, gives you burn, but was an enjoyable compliment to the end of a wonderful meal. We are done, and it's okay to stand up and applaud. The sequel lays unplanned.
Norma fills the gap. While we are both very different, in a strange way we are very, very much alike. She has taught me so much. We have grown a lot, simultaneously, too.
A few nights ago I did some laundry. A Euro had gotten loose from one of my pockets and was clanking around. It wanted wasn't meant to be there, yet it was, reminding me to take it back to Europe. It's funny the course money takes, getting passed around, carried back, saved and then splurged. How nice it must be to roam and have absolutely no feelings.
Norma and I hope to go back to Europe in the summer. For me, things make more sense there. It suits my cold demeanor, knowing I am leaving. I gave myself much to come back to, but I love leaving things behind. A trail of bread crumbs and Euros from the hotel to the airport, from the plane to the super shuttle.
Men. Men have become a game more than ever to me. They are easy to pick up, still difficult to get the truth from - but still painfully easily to decode. The only ones I like are the ones who don't seem to be sex crazed. Which in turn drives me crazy. My perfect man doesn't exist. Or he does, but he comes in an ugly wrapper.
I am getting smarter though. Last night I picked up a guy, just because he wasn't acting like a complete douche bag like his friends. We texting now:
Him: What is your last name again?
Me: It's Thompson. Why are you checking on facebook to make sure I am not a dog? :P
I am too smart ass for my own good. It's a great Darwinistic weed out tactic though.
I miss my banter with Cliff. It seems the others who are as witty as him are terrible.
I have been watching Six Feet Under. I see a lot of parallels in the shows plot, to my own life.
Life. I love you.
A list of notable events to come.
When everyone asks me how Europe was, I laugh, and say, somehow- someway- I'm alive.
They think it is a joke, but really, I was worried. Not even worried, just expectant, that the trip would be my demise. When I left my apartment, it felt like the last time. It was liberating though, in a way. To not worry about death. It consumes me. More so after the accident. I realize now more than ever we are all on some collision course to death, and the lucky of us make it to old age. When we got on the plane from Amsterdam, I couldn't believe we made it that far.
It was an incredible trip. Norma and I wrote everything down in the journal I brought. I had had visions of sitting at a cafe - writing and writing, giving a good summary of my life over the last year - but there just wasn't enough time. Like the exchange rate - the time just goes more quickly there. Any free time I had was spent towards making up the sleep debt incurred from the late night parties.
I am at Volcano now, thank you to the man who has opted for some slow tunes by Rolling Stones, Tom Petty and some other bluesy rock. It's hitting the spot. So is this hot chocolate.
So much to atone for, an overwhelming amount. It's hard to decide where to begin. I guess I will start with love-
Cliff still crosses my mind nearly everyday. It isn't the painful longing that it was before though. It's turned into a curiosity, and an optimistic paranoia that he too is finding his way. The contrast of wanting to be ingratiated into his life is eclipsed by the fact that my day to day well being is much more satisfying without him. The clarity of having him out my life has lead me to the conclusion that I pursued things at the wrong time. I would like to think he is still waiting for me, but pessimistically and realistically, I hope that he is not. While happy, and open to love again, I am not ready for Cliff still. A big part of me thinks I will always have a spot for him in my heart, and our paths will collide one day - and it will all just fall into place. It is this time of year that makes me nostalgic for him. It was when things began - the late nights at Chili's, The Parlor, Trudy's, the following year that he dropped the bomb, and last year when his shadow was cast on everything even though he was gone. This year, he is just a lingering after thought. Like a bitter dessert coffee. It still keeps you up, gives you burn, but was an enjoyable compliment to the end of a wonderful meal. We are done, and it's okay to stand up and applaud. The sequel lays unplanned.
Norma fills the gap. While we are both very different, in a strange way we are very, very much alike. She has taught me so much. We have grown a lot, simultaneously, too.
A few nights ago I did some laundry. A Euro had gotten loose from one of my pockets and was clanking around. It wanted wasn't meant to be there, yet it was, reminding me to take it back to Europe. It's funny the course money takes, getting passed around, carried back, saved and then splurged. How nice it must be to roam and have absolutely no feelings.
Norma and I hope to go back to Europe in the summer. For me, things make more sense there. It suits my cold demeanor, knowing I am leaving. I gave myself much to come back to, but I love leaving things behind. A trail of bread crumbs and Euros from the hotel to the airport, from the plane to the super shuttle.
Men. Men have become a game more than ever to me. They are easy to pick up, still difficult to get the truth from - but still painfully easily to decode. The only ones I like are the ones who don't seem to be sex crazed. Which in turn drives me crazy. My perfect man doesn't exist. Or he does, but he comes in an ugly wrapper.
I am getting smarter though. Last night I picked up a guy, just because he wasn't acting like a complete douche bag like his friends. We texting now:
Him: What is your last name again?
Me: It's Thompson. Why are you checking on facebook to make sure I am not a dog? :P
I am too smart ass for my own good. It's a great Darwinistic weed out tactic though.
I miss my banter with Cliff. It seems the others who are as witty as him are terrible.
I have been watching Six Feet Under. I see a lot of parallels in the shows plot, to my own life.
Life. I love you.
A list of notable events to come.