Monthly Archives: August 2015

Another day off

I have one more day off, and then I work for six days in a row. Then a weekend and eight days in a row.

I’ve accomplished a lot over the last two days I had off, before the one day I worked yesterday. Today I got even more done. But it mostly feels good just to relax.

Been thinking about my dreams. I don’t remember details of them. I do recall feelings some what. Mostly they are dreams where I am trying to reach a goal. My dreams feel like movies.

I have been watching DVDs of a history of London from the Teaching Company. It is due back to the library.

On my list today was blogging – see present effort. Also, DuoLingo, Vocabulary.com and Code Academy which I have accomplished. I am now on a four-day streak in DuoLingo. It says I now know 50 percent of Spanish. I haven’t taken up the French and German lessons I previously started.

I feel like I wrote so deeply yesterday. I sometimes hate writing so profoundly, because all the the words I write for days afterwards feel so mundane.

When I think of you…

When I think of you I feel guilty. I treat you poorly. There is a bitter part of myself which wants to be mean to you, and is often and persistently.

When I think of you I feel lonely. I miss you. I miss the river, the walks, the French, the food, the house, the cats, the reading, the talking, the being friends. I miss you like I miss food. I miss you like I miss the things from my childhood. I miss you like a home, though I’ve never had one. I miss you and I miss you often and persistently.

When I think of you I feel bad for being a jerk. I ignore you calls. I don’t call you back. At times I think you should just give up on being my friend. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you did. Or maybe you already have. I am a jerk because I feel so many things, and the relationship you seem to want isn’t deep enough to express them. But I am a jerk, because I choose to be. And I don’t know why but I choose to be a jerk often and persistently.

When I think of you I feel like your better off without my Melrose Place drama in your life. I wonder if it isn’t better for both of us to not engage in the emotional turmoil we seem to get sucked into when we connect. And when we don’t connect, but only talk I feel like I am bleeding in the street and everyone is driving by, without stopping. I feel like I hurt you more though contact, than through my absence. I doubt you need a friend like me, I doubt that often and persistently.

When I think of you, I think I still love you. You’re like a part of me, you feel so close. Even when we haven’t spoken for so long, I feel like I could call you and it wouldn’t matter. But it does. I love you because you make me want to be a better person. I just love you for who you are, and who I want to be with you. It isn’t just the Ayn Rand books, it isn’t just a shared love of learning. It is more and more than all the words I could write. It is your sap I love. I really love you often and persistently.

When I think of you I feel like a failure. No, not in terms of our relationship – for which I have to much hope for still to feel like a failure. No, my life. I feel like I want to have a career, to be a person you could be proud to know. The person you thought I was when we were in college together. The person you thought I was when we were together. A person who doesn’t live in a cheap rented room, alone with a cat. A person who doesn’t have a low-pay job, he could have done without the college degree for which he isn’t paying his loans. A person who can and does pay his loans. I want to be John Galt, so you could be my love. I feel like a failure when I don’t think of you too though. I feel like a failure often and persistently.

When I think of you I worry about you. I guess I worry about your career, but you are smarter than I – even though I once said different. I worry about your health. I feel like Forest Gump who would drop everything to run to you and care for Jenny in her illness. I want you to be well. I don’t want to worry about your health. I feel like a bad friend because I don’t know if you are well. Even if you wanted me to, I wouldn’t even know to come to you. In a silly way, I worry about your relationships – just because I there is still a part of me confident enough to believe no one loves you as much as I. When I think of you I worry about you, I worry about you often and persistently.

There are so many things which make me think of you. The cat. Bunny. Some days just the news itself makes me think of you. So many things I see on Facebook. Politics. Donald Trump. Listening to the CDs you gave me (of which I have cloned). I think of you at night, I think of you at work. I think of you in this world which is haunted by you. When I feel alone I think of you the most. When I think of you I feel alone the most. I think of you often and persistently.

Can you see why I don’t try to connect with you more? Where are my sleeping pills? Where is bunny? I need some ice cream and sleep right now.

We are all the light…

I was thinking today about human connections. I guess all interactions between people are spiritual interactions. In every relationship, each encounter, we serve to spread love and the message of love or we serve to spread fear or the message of fear.

And it could also be said in other terms. We either spread lies or we spread truth. The only thing real is love. Fear is based on lies, and is made of lies and can only be spread by lies. Love never leads to fear and lies never lead to love.

Two Days off

I made a to-do list and writing a blog post was one of the items. Here, done.

Ok, that isn’t a blog post.

I have two days off in a row, and it is great. Today was the first day and I have cleaned my room, the bathroom, and done a lot of other little chores. I still have a number of things on my list. I have time today to get them done, or tomorrow. For the last 17 days I have only had two days off. Going forward it looks like this is going to change. I will also be spending much more time in produce.

Life is good. The my cat and Saphira still aren’t friends, but they aren’t fighting and Saphira seems to be getting comfortable in the house. Today has just been a great, relaxing day.

Cats

I am watching a cat for a friend. Well, if things work out I will continue to watch the cat. Right now she is growling and hissing at my cat, and myself, quite a bit. I am trying to be sedulous and just give her space to relax and feel comfortable. I am sure she just feels scared. My cat is being mellow, except when she is being hissed at, which no one likes and then she starts to get upset and hiss back. Cats.

I once again only had one day off. I have to work today, and I feel tired. I don’t want to work. This also appears to be my last week in the deli on a regular basis, and it appears I will be moving back to produce. I’d rather stay in the deli and work with Tammy, but I doubt I will be given the option since it now appears the deli is close to fully staffed.

I just feel like I need a day to sleep, and read, and write. Not this kind of writing, but real writing. I was reading from Sylvia Plath’s journals yesterday. It always makes me want to journal more myself, write more myself, express more myself. I fail too often in all those regards.

I need to be more sedulous about writing.

Olympia

I went back to Olympia.

It was the first time I have been there since I left you in your bed.

The sun was burning down out of the sky, like an Albert Camus novel and I was the stranger. I looked for your place, the old place where we were together. And where I left you in your bed.

But the old place is gone, the place where you lived. The place where we loved, is gone.

The whole city was haunted by you. I could see you on every corner. I heard your thoughts regarding the signs in the windows. You were always so intelligent, and witty.

I went back because I haven’t been there in years. I wanted to take photos of the places I knew. It is a part of me, the time you and I were close in the small town. It will always be a part of me, and today it is a part of me I miss.

The pictures of the capitol building, the park, the lake and the streets all made me think of you. It all made me think of you. And as I drove home I listened to the mix CD of your songs.

Even those places where we never went together were haunted by you. The spring in town where I spent time waiting for the bus. On the final lonely dark and cold night we were together.  And then apart.

My mother was on her way to help me move to California. I moved to Portland the first time because you once told me you hated Portland. Now I wonder where I would be today if you hadn’t said those words. For the second time, I had almost moved closer to you.

I am back in Portland. But I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for the people I met the first time I moved here. And the second time I moved here is when the wound was the deepest for us. The last time. I went to see you in Olympia after you invited me to visit.

But I stayed too long.

You weren’t happy to have me there so long. You weren’t happy for me to visit you at your school job. You weren’t happy. I walked out that night after you told me you didn’t care if I spent the night or not. I wanted more than anything to be close, and warm and with you one more night. The smell of you.

But I left because I also wanted more than anything not to be leaving the relationship on a note of apathy on your part. I was so tired of your not caring. At the end of the day, it wasn’t enough. Maybe you did care, and for some reason you just couldn’t tell me. I know there were things I didn’t know how or couldn’t tell you. I loved you so much, words failed me. Everything failed me. Sometimes I feel like I failed us.

Where are you now? Hawaii, San Diego or maybe Washington DC. Where would we be if that night was not the last night?

Remember the baby? The one we almost had. You said you did the dance for joy when you found out it was not to be born. My father was happy I wouldn’t be tied to you. But I am tied to you with the fabled red string. Because I once loved you deeply, and I still do, across time and space. Of course time and space are real and love changes.

You introduced me to Leonard Cohen, and he is the one who said. “True love leaves no traces, if you and I are one, it is lost in our embraces, like stars against the sun.”

What we had was never accurately described. I wonder if the fact your mother once called me your “boyfriend” was a factor in your ending things. I never understood why you went through your mood swings. You said one time a boy had left you, and after drinking your mom found you crying and yelling in the driveway. I wanted to hug you, I wanted to go back in time and hug you. I wanted to hug all the pain so many people caused you away. Maybe because like me, so much of the pain in your life was a result of the actions of people who should have known better. People you should have been able to trust to love you and care for you. We were both lost you and I. And I still am.

I went back to Olympia, because it was a place. A moment in time. A memory of not feeling either so alone, or so lost in the world. Every day I feel like the people in my life are further and further away. But it is my fault. And I am more and more alone, lost and emotionally confused. Although I can’t recapture the past, I can taste the memory.