Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Late Night Coffee Date
Ian and I went to a local coffee shop late last night so we could get out and enjoy the city lights and the quietness of a Monday evening. It wasn't more than several phrases into our conversation and my eyes began to well up with tears from some source of pain that I cannot even name. But, above all, I know I am missing my sister, my friend. My heart aches and remains sore and wounded. This is nothing new. I think about time and how it moves us closer and then farther away from the people we love, we have loved, and we will love. Like a wave of freezing ocean water these thoughts saturate my mind until my heart becomes so engorged I can do nothing but let the tears fall down, fall down, fall down. Releasing all that salt water.
He reached across the table and just held my hand. Ian's love for me seems to be a treasure I rediscover every moment of every day. He is always patient, almost always, anyway. He holds my hand. He looks at me with those gentle brown eyes and he lets me cry and he lets me cry and he lets me cry.
I was so sure I was being brave. Strong. I've had to stop and review my behaviour lately and I see where I've succumbed, once again, to some very negative thoughts and behaviours. I get so tired. So tired of myself and my habits of self-destruction. It'd be one thing if I were the type to go on some kind of bender and just thrash the living shit out of myself for a day or two. But no. No. That would be too simple. For me, it's all about the slow burn of self-doubt and taking on way way way too much shit at once. Working. University. Moving. All at once. Everything caves in on me and always has. At some point, I reach my limit and the end of my rope tugs me backwards and I fall.
I fell and he caught me again and again and we just talked things through until things were all said and I could dry my eyes and drink my latte and move from the coffee shop to a stroll through the uptown with the sparkling lights. The laughter coming from bars, restaurants. The smells, the sounds of a city that doesn't necessarily thrive, but is alive just the same. How I love it here. These things soothe my soul in a way that the country life never could. I love the surprises you find around every corner. From the guy who jumps out around the corner, asking for change, to the well-lit art galleries and jewelry stores that sparkle with beautiful things. It soothes me and takes me away from my sorrow.
I've been working 20 hours a week or more a local art supply store. I'm supposed to also be studying and prepping to teach art classes, but I can't seem to get it together. I am behind in all my courses. I am barely on time for work. I haven't even begun to prepare to teach. Oh well. It's all okay. I've got money in the bank and that seems to make things a lot better on almost every level. Things will be okay and I will figure this all out. I just have to write it out sometimes and that is what I am doing tonight. Writing it all out and down.