How R U

He started up again this week. I know he was only doing this to see where my head is at. It's the ridiculous, but passionate, thing we can't even call a relationship. He is king of his world, and maybe he knows it. It's years now of something well beyond flirtation that is crazy sexy cool. If we gave it a chance (against all odds) it would probably blow up in our faces, or, be the best thing ever. But alas, he has her. I think sometimes she knows (does she?) and it's not something I'm proud of. So it doesn't go farther, but damn, it already reached that far enough, over-the-top, we-shouldn't-do-this level. Still, we don't stop...

March

In the midst of the haze you were there

but fleetingly

I don't know what happened to you after I left you

after you had left me

And now here we are

no phones

scattered notes

small hope

I am trying so hard to pull it together while deleting so much of the past

and the pain

and the friends that aren't friends

I guess you are busy living your dreams

I guess I'm waiting for mine to begin

I heard the song, the one where she sings, 'don't forget me, I beg'

I used to be that girl that needed you to remember

to notice

did anything for you

wanted so little from you

and now I only realize

it got me nowhere with you.

Well

What am I supposed to say When I'm all choked up and you're okay?

Waiting

I'm waiting for news of all sorts and none of it good. I am living inside my head, my thoughts and my weak body that it trying to hold on. They say when life is ending another begins but there isn't always that kind of ironic happy ending.

I knew something was wrong after my birthday when I drove to the hospital. I looked at him and knew. Saw the doctor days later and knew further still. I didn't need to hear the man in the white coat say 'weeks' or 'make what little time is left comfortable'. Although things aren't grey at the moment, I wait on pins and needles for the storm to return.

And in my stomach it is stormy too. I just don't feel right in any way and on top of it all is the heaviness of being alone. Or at least feeling that way. So many signs of late and so many warnings. When your back is turned and your guard is down....

Tonight I did get fresh air and later, hopefully, sleep (just as the text I read last night ordered me to do). I leaned against the ledge of my balcony and just tried to breathe. And I looked high above at the simple yet important cross on the church and just said prayer after prayer for all of us.

Alive

I jumped off a bridge today.

With a harness and bungee rope secured to my chest and waist, I stood on a tiny platform that jutted out off a long huge bridge, 160 ft over the breathtaking Callaghan Valley in Whistler. I hadn't felt this kind of fear in a very long time yet I knew I would jump. I knew I would jump even though I was the first jumper of the day ahead of everyone. And on the second countdown with an audience watching, with both arms finally raised by my sides, I leaped off that bridge.

And I'm alive again.

Reunions

It has not even been 24 hours in Whistler for me, yet already I don't really wish to return to the concrete jungle that is my home in Toronto. One look out of Tyler's apartment window and it takes my breath away. Trees. Trees. Mountains. Trees. And snow. Where it should be.

I am surrounded by quiet at the moment, except for the faint tapping of the keys on this laptop. He will be home soon, but I haven't minded a few hours of quiet in his place, in this town, right now, by myself. I have not heard one siren in all these hours.

My long journey to get here was not as quiet, thanks to Air Canada. ( As my 'shister' put it, way to go Air Canada for basically a 10 hour trip to get me within our country. ) But it was worth it. It was worth the trip by a delayed plane and then bus, to reach the final destination. To then see my friend come toward and pick me right up in his arms in front of the loud bars and drunken college kids and turn me around and around and kiss me.

So here I am. Exhausted from an almost all-nighter and happily exhausted from my first trip on the slopes at Whistler-Blackcomb. They all call it riding here. Oh yes, I went riding! After years of not skiing, there I was, with a patient partner even when I was not so patient from frustration of falling too many times during the final hour of slope time, er, riding. To see the views from so way up high, to be in the clouds and feel the fog, to never reaching the bottom of the hill, quite literally, until you decide you are done for the day. Everyone is happy, even the birds join you for company. It is quite spectacular all in all.

I am happy to see Tyler. It's bittersweet. It's been just over 2 months of him being gone. I have 10 days here and we will be apart again. I am away from my children for these 10 days. I miss them now and when I am back, I will once again miss Tyler.

It is also strange being back in BC. It's been years since Victoria, with the 2 week trips here and there with a long ago friend. I loved it so much I tried to give it a go and live there. My memories of my English soccer players I roomed with still make me laugh. Sad to think we never kept in touch years later. Being here in Whistler, surrounded by this natural beauty we lack in Toronto, makes me think of my time in Victoria; my peaceful and tranquil thoughts near the water, on the beaches. Water always calms me and fills me up inside with a peaceful purpose. (Perhaps that's the real reason for my son's name, River.)

So I am happy. I am in a peaceful and calm surroundings, I am writing, I have wine beside me and my daughter's latest drawing beside me. I will be home soon enough. But for now, I will live here in Whistler and wait for Tyler to walk through the door.

Us, A New Year

It doesn't feel like a new year.

My resolutions are wishy washy or feeling too untainable. There has been no new feeling of excitement that it is a brand new year, full of surprises and goals. There doesn't feel to be any sort of renewal of self. The dreams that started in December every night merely meshed into January and are are more intense, more detailed, and just plain dizzying. They almost always are full of people and friends that I know. Actually, this week, the dreams include the men that I know, come to think of it. Go figure.

I have been awake by 5:30 am every day this week. My friend laughed last night when I said that the last shitty night of sleep was the best shitty sleep of the entire week of shitty sleeps.

It's hard being tired. Coffee, dear friend of mine, won't even work anymore. In fact, dare I say it's making me sleepier??? The horror..... But I'm functioning. We're functioning. Or at least I hope we are.

The other evening my son took two tantrums in public so fierce that it made me give him two time outs in a corner of a rec centre while a few other parents watched in amazement, disgust or boredom. Or they just related. Only one parent looked disgusted. She had two kids of her own and after the storm know as River had quieted, actually asked me if I was the nanny. Hmm...how does one take that in this situation?

So what? I gave a time out or two. Forcefully. I find with boys in particular, it's a control issue. They try to exert it and can or will exert it hard. Perhaps I am so worried of my only son growing up with the entitlement gene his father has that I over parent or over discipline. He certainly tests me when he isn't being his normal happy self.

He is almost four years old. And is much smarter and more aware. After a week spent with their father (or his family, I should say), I have been bombarded with questions that pop up after a week away from me. I have been asked: "Can Daddy sleep here some nights?", "If we move where will we move to while our house is being built like Daddy's was?" , "Can we all move into one house together?" , and my favourite, "Are you going to get married again?"

So we sit at the kitchen table for most of these discussions. I talk about what it all means to have parents not living together. Or at least, what I know it means from these last few years.