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Passing Time

It’s quiet where I sit. A warm, purring cat on my lap catches the tear that drips down my cheek. The weekend traffic, a car every now and then, passes slowly by; with each one my heart skips a beat. I hold my breath until the vehicle has passed. I hold my breath until I am certain it isn’t him. Eventually the cat jumps off my lap and the coffee in my cup goes cold. The snow banks haven’t budged, and I am starting to believe that this season will never end.

Thinking back on our short time together I try to force the memories back to life and my coffee back to a barely sip-able temperature. I wish tomorrow was our first date in the park, I wish we were still planning the new chicken coop and talking about the future. I would give anything for today to be that first time he said he loved me. But it’s not, so I drink the last of the coffee fast and cold, and I tell myself that he was all wrong for me. Lasting love cannot be built merely on a shared affection for pickled eggs and a disdain for religious conformity. And while I could spend the time in between passing cars to argue that we had so much more, I am tired of trying to convince someone to love me back.

Today’s epiphany – life is nothing like those romantic comedies I fall asleep to on lonely nights. The man doesn’t turn up at your doorstep, grand gestures of love don’t happen when you least expect it. No, instead you just end up checking your phone too many times per hour. You end up being thrown into the melting pot of single, divorced, unfortunate, and lonely adults, and every one of your friends has a 30-some year old guy to set you up with. All of a sudden the romantic comedy that is your life becomes just a silly comedy where your girl friends giggle at your misadventures in match making hell and coworkers laugh at the stories of the drunken text you sent last Saturday night. There are no “meet-cutes” and the childlike crushes never evolve into anything more than you feeling like a miserable 13 year old all over again. He never texts you back, the nights out with the girls never make you feel any more confident, and every night you find yourself right back where you started – alone.

So I have resorted to convincing myself I am too busy for love. I have a career to think about, a home to care for, and three pints of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer to keep me company. And just about the time that the spoon hits the bottom of the carton, just about the time that I feel like I am on the right path, a car passes slowly by my house, and I find myself holding my breath once again. “Just one last time,” I tell myself. Just one last time I will hope for a brief moment that he has changed his mind, just one last time I will believe there is someone out there for me to love, just one last time I will pretend that anything is possible.

But I know missing him will not go on forever. The snow banks will begin to melt until the soggy, brown earth is all that is left. The cabins on my country road will fill up with out-of-towners visiting for the summer season. The traffic on my small highway will pick up and every other vehicle will be pulling with it a camper. I will forget that anyone else likes pickled eggs as much as I and maybe I will start attending a church again. I will forget what that love felt like or how much this heart ache stings. I will laugh at my own misadventures in match making hell, and I will learn self control when drinking and texting. I will forget that life isn’t like a romantic comedy. And I will forget that I ever wanted him to show up unannounced to tell me he wants me back. Eventually I won’t notice the cars flying by. And I will move on. Eventually.

One Hundred and Twenty Four

Day 124

Goodbye Sweet Love of Mine, goodbye. The ups and downs of our affections have been an ever present consolation, a distraction from the reality that we are not what each other needs. You were there every time I cried, the mourning, the lonely nights. On the exceptionally great days you laughed with me; you made me believe anything was possible. And with that freedom I lived in a way that I had never before known existed. I stood from the tops of buildings, watching the sunset, and you were the only person who knew what I was thinking. In the mundane, when the streets were but a haze of people, when the masses threatened to consume, you urged me to keep my head up. Because of you, those days when everything seemed to be a repeat of yesterday, when my life revolved around a job and nothing more, when I was searching for an identity, I found the inspiration to keep going. Those mornings on the bus with my worn-in book, the afternoons that never seemed to end, and the evenings when I felt alone and misunderstood, you were there.

You made me a better person, but I wasn’t the person you needed. I could not stay around forever. And when I left, you waited. With outstretched arms you welcomed be back every time with forgiveness and understanding. But this time is different. Our paths no longer run side by side, and I am reminded of that time we agreed this would not last a lifetime. I long for quiet space, and you do not exist without the rush and vibrancy that attracted me to you in the first place. I wonder if I am making a mistake, the initial attraction, which kept me coming back time and time again, sits colorfully in my mind. The memories will never be erased, but I cannot continue on while living in the past’s fast times. We were always prepared for this, but somehow I do not feel as ready as I thought I would be. Yet this is day we always knew would come, its arrival is not ours to delay. This goodbye has lasted a gruesome while as we separate slowly and hesitantly. Mutual feelings I am thankful for, and I hold dear your promises of constant friendship. You have done so much to make me the person that I am today, and for you I am forever grateful. So on this last note, with one shed tear, I will say goodbye. Goodbye My Dear Sweet Chicago of Mine.

One Hundred and Twenty Three

Day 123

To Self,

Here is that moment, where you must choose. Do you keep going through the sludgy thick stuff, despite the headaches, even with the rain falling gently outside and the thick linens holding you tightly in bed? This is that moment you thought you were ready for. All of the preparation – “I can do it… I can do it! I can do it!!!” – could amount to a lot of wasted motivation if you fail to pick yourself up and carry on.

Maybe you didn’t think it would be this difficult. Or were you in denial with what you knew would inevitably come your way? No one is exempt from ups and downs, the highs and lows. Life goes your way until you realize it; then comes that big decision. Do you keep going on, no matter what is required, no matter which way life sways?

Option 2: Stay in bed. And wait. But like past attempts this will disprove itself an option which produces satisfactory results. For no amount of bed covers can hide the truth. Endless amounts of rest will not provide the answer you need. And alas, motivation won’t lift you off of that bed anymore than willpower.

The long, seemingly shaky bridge is ahead. Cross it or give up. And did not I already explain that to give up (i.e. roll around in your sweaty sheets) stands as no option? So get up! Get up I say! Cross the bridge, make that decision to forge ahead. It won’t take perfect vision to see, that when you are halfway across and on your way, you will be in a much better place than now. And for that you will thank me.

One Hundred and Twenty Two

Day 122

What will you do when all of your money is gone? Wallow by the river with your last handful of pennies. Wade in the cool water as reality starts to sink in. Skip rocks while contemplating your next move. When you see a small toad hop by, ask him what you should do. You can only hide for so long. The grass will feel less comfortable with each moment, and you will probably shiver from the cold, damp bottoms of your pants that sit heavily rolled up below your knees. If the sun leaves on a good note toss your last handful of pennies into the river and let go of the worth you thought they would give you.

What will you do when you lose the one you love? Look out over the city from your mountain top seat. Hang your head and your heart low as you look down on all of the buildings below. With each inhalation of fresh air, imagine your new life. When a nearby bird scolds you from his treetop perch; remember you are only human. Sooner or later you will have to take the trek down from that mountain. Eventually you will have to come to terms with the life down below. It is bound to get cold up there at night so with haste you head back to your reality.

What do you do when your position in life is no longer valued? Take a long walk down an old dusty path as you question your validity. Cry in secret as the wind blows through the trees. Kick up the earth when you feel crushed. When a small rabbit hops out in front of you don’t become angry. Let her see your tears and remind you that you are not out of sight forever. When you turn back to head home, remember that you are not heading back to the person you used to be. But you must at least try to get back on track.

You cannot hide forever.

One Hundred and Twenty-One

Day 121

I hope today is the last day I ever have to change my address. Unlikely? Not necessarily although the odds do seem to be against me. In the past 11 years I have had 12 “homes.” All of the moving and changes and new addresses have caused me to give a lot of thought to the idea of “home” and what is required to give a certain place that title.

Some say “home is where the heart is,” but it was in many of those 12 houses and apartments that I spent all of my time wondering where my heart had gone. Does home have something to do with love? – love for family, God, pets, or oneself? Is home the nest you fly back to after a long day? Or is home merely just a roof, some walls, and a floor?

For me, all of my homes have been, at one time or another, all of these things. Sometimes, although always grateful for the roof over my head, my home was nothing more than a place to wallow in despair or loneliness. Other times I could not be pulled away from my home, for all of the warmth and love it held felt too great to depart from. My homes have been the places where I have learned to cook, learned to relax, learned to love, and learned to let go.

I just changed my address with the United States Postal Service for what I hope is the last time ever. I still have to notify my banks and insurance agents and friends that I have another new address for yet another new home. But I have a feeling this one is going to be different. My small cabin in the middle of nowhere (most literally too if one looks at a map) is the home that all my other homes have led me to. This new place will be where I master the perfect pot of chili and the best chocolate cake. My new home will be a serene place to relax. It will be a home just for me, for now. After 11 years and 12 homes I have still not figured out what really makes a house a home. But I am nearly certain I will figure it all out soon.

One Hundred and Twenty

Day 120

In regards to peace-and-quiet:

Peace and quiet – that beauty that overcomes you as you lay in bed at night listening to the owl call. It is the serenity that overtakes you when you step onto the porch of an empty house and listen to the birds sing. Peace and quiet happens as the fire crackles or the teapot whistles or the cat purrs while curled up. It overtakes you as you sit in the sand, the waves thunderously crashing against the shore, the seagulls cawing overhead. It is the autumnal sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot as you listen to the cool breeze blow in a new season. Peace and quiet sounds like a bath filling up with hot water, the hum of your bicycle whizzing down the path, and the turning of crisp pages in a book. Sometimes it is even the sound of your own voice talking aloud to God, the empty room, or yourself. But rarely is peace and quiet void of noise, and it is almost never a vacant and motionless place. So too is being alone not always an ill and forlorn feeling. Can we ever really escape the available peace and quiet that awaits us? It is not something that needs to find us, but rather a treasure that is always waiting for us to let it in. The only thing that seems to stand in the way between us and peace and quiet is our very own fear of being alone

One Hundred and Nineteen

Day 119

In regards to Shock-and-Awe:

I do not regard offensiveness as an appropriate means to change someone else’s beliefs or coerce them into being more open-minded. Offense can be an unintentional (although still questionably inappropriate) byproduct of other means of demonstrating one’s beliefs. But offending someone for the purpose of getting your point across, making an unforgettable statement, or attempting to change someone’s views makes the offense your main tool and offending your central goal. The motive of being yourself and enjoying the freedom to do so becomes a plot to make others more like you, taking away their freedom, by way of force. Offensiveness uses manipulation whereas doing something like say, wearing a goth style outfit into a conservative religious establishment solely because that is what you like to wear, doesn’t require a power trip but rather self confidence. You may be aware that certain people in that religious establishment will look down on you or disapprove or make erroneous judgments, but that does not mean you intend to offend or upset them. If you walk into that same situation but wearing that same outfit for the sole purpose of irritating people as a means to get them to question their ideas or own self expression through fashion, than you are doing so on twisted grounds. Whether by clothing or words or other such ways one is intending to irritate and offend, onlookers will most likely miss the offender’s “true” intention only making the initial cause even more difficult to achieve by others. Those that have a “hidden” desire to offend typically have much more deep-seeded issues than any onlooker could probably figure out. Those pioneering a cause or expressing a freedom with respect for others become disheartened when some of their own become bitter and feel the need for more forceful tactics and impure motives. As one walks into a new arena of freedom and passion may they not push away those who are in so much need of feeling their very own freedom, those who have yet to understand what lies beyond the mundane. Let us with love, and not offense, demonstrate our expressions.

One Hundred and Eighteen

Day 118

Sleep hangs heavily from the edge of my lashes. With each blink my eyelids fail to return to their normal height. My mind longs to lay all of its contents against a soft pillow. My limbs want to stretch out like a cat in the warm afternoon sun. I cannot wait to pull the thin quilts up to my chin, curl into a ball, and drift off into glorious dream land. That wonderful moment is all I can think about; I have long forgotten about my to-do list, moving plans, or tomorrow’s projects. I cannot conjure up any fancy words, nor can I elaborate on anything eventful. Last night’s dreams come to mind, and I am tempted by that other world. So much could be said about the raspberries, blueberries, rhubarb, and the incredibly large German shepherd that in just one week will all be mine, but I am too tired to even begin. Instead, I will save these wonderful thoughts for myself, crawl into my little bed, and fall into that deep sleep, with a grin.

One Hundred and Seventeen

Day 117

Every now and then, or maybe just once or twice during your existence, someone will come along and make your life unexpectedly and outstandingly great. You fall head over heels in love, up is down, black is white, and the things you thought you knew for certain are now questionable; you discover an exception to the rule. However, in the case that none of this happens to you (or maybe it happened and then ended leaving you on an unpredictable hiatus) know that there is little that will be capable of distracting you.

Love is a powerful thing. It has the ability to cause blindness, butterflies, and an aching heart. When you long for the affection of another, when you pine for a companion, no amount of baking, shoe shopping, eating or drinking will fill the void. Standing in a cloud of dust kicked up by the heels of all of your friends rushing off to frolic in their new love, you find yourself debating your next move. And it is in these odd moments in life, when you know something wonderful exists just beyond your reach that anticipation mounts to glorious excitement. However, in the case that the odd moment fails to produce any sort of hopeful eagerness know that there is absolutely nothing capable of distracting you.

Loneliness is a powerful thing. It has the ability to cause sleeplessness, weight gain, and poor drinking habits. But in the case that you find yourself standing in that cloud of dust with mere inches of hope left, just wait. Because before you know it you will be head over heels, up will be down, black will be white, and you will be questioning all that you thought you knew. Because before you know it, you will find your exception to the rule.