Ironical Chronicles

Today I finally put on my walking shoes and walked down the street that led to the park. I saw the swings and couldn’t resist – I sat down and let myself swing back and forth with my eyes closed.

The gentle breeze carried me and my tears once again flowed. I wondered what you were doing at this very moment – were you thinking of me?

I stopped swinging and opened my eyes to see a butterfly struggling to find its direction. I thought how sad that this beautiful creature would live a short life but that within it, I could see beauty again.

I got up from the swing and walked all along the edge of the golf course and only stopped walking when I got to the edge of the canyon. I stepped to the edge of the canyon and for a moment wished I were that butterfly.

I turned around and walked home, wishing that I could just continue walking, walking, walking.

Today I am moving to San Diego. The movers will be here any minute. I can’t believe this day has come. It seems like all of this has happened so fast. Part of me expects you to run into the house and tell me to stop, you changed your mind. But the other part of me knows that will not happen and that I really don’t want you to, anyway.

I have walked around the house, the front yard, the back yard, the garage, your music room, our bedroom, the kitchen, my office, the living room, and thought of only you and I: making love, yelling, laughing, bbq’s, parties, cooking, watching television, everything that was us here.

No matter what has happened between us, I will miss you and the life we have shared together for nearly nine years.

I am so sad and it is so hard to leave. But when the movers drive away with everything I own, there will be no turning back.

Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing. Sometimes I think I know what I’m doing. Sometimes I do know what I’m doing. But regardless, I sit in doubt – heavy, thick, doubt that is all encompassing.

I’m by myself at a hotel in San Diego that overlooks the bay. I’m here for the next three nights and days to get a feel for downtown and decide where I want to live. Everything is happening so fast. I don’t really know what I want except that I don’t want to live in Los Angeles anymore. There’s really no place for me to live there, anyway. There are too many memories we shared in too many places and cities throughout the county. You are staying, I am leaving.

It doesn’t even seem real. Me ordering room service by myself in an unfamiliar city without you. Me laying in this big, comfortable hotel bed without you by my side. Me exploring the city by myself, talking to strangers, asking for a table for one. Sometimes I find that I want to call you and say that I miss you and that I will be home soon…but it’s not really true.

On the days I do go to our house, it’s when you are at work so I don’t have to see you and you don’t have to see me. I pack and cry, pack and cry while I divide our CD’s, DVD’s, dishes and all the rest while I try not to worry about tomorrow.

But I am here now. This is what I have decided. My family is here, old friends from high school, and new friends waiting to be found. Yesterday is over and closing in on me like someone is putting saran wrap over my nose and mouth.

So I am still in this hotel room that overlooks the bay and I am still wondering when this will all be over.

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I am so tired. I can’t sleep, can’t relax, forget to take my vitamins, forget to eat fruit, forget to take care of myself.

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I know the pain hasn’t left me yet, it’s just hiding out somewhere, playing a game of hide-and-seek with me.

I know you are sad, too, but I can no longer let you talk that way to me anymore. We are both grieving the loss of one another and I wish that we could share our true emotions with each other without the mess that always follows.

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I feel broken and unloveable.

Maybe I should have expected it.
Maybe my eyes were closed.

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Please don’t tell me I’m better off without him –
I still love him.
Please don’t tell me I’ll meet somebody new –
I don’t want to.
Please don’t tell me the world is my oyster -
He was my oyster.

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I’m still here, I just don’t know where I am.

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Feeling bloody and raw – my insides are seeping out.

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I don’t know this stranger, who after nearly 9 years together doesn’t want to try anymore.
Who is this shadow of a man who says he’s not in love with me anymore?

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I was watching a television show where the couple was dancing to a Johnny Mathis record and it reminded me of us – except we never danced.