ok. well, that was hard.
It's weird, I was walking up Bute st, past the West Valley produce market, and I could see her from two blocks away. Funny how after all those years, you can just pick them out in a crowd so quickly.
'fuck. Well, there she is.. remember don't say anything. no words. nothing.'
Walking closer, I started talking to Morgan.
"who's that? Morgie??" I said In that typical person to doggie voice that should be embarassing to use in public, but isn't. He got all prancy and started swinging his head around, scanning the people. Then he saw her. Man, I just wanna cry right now, but I can't because I have to go back in 2 hours and pick him up and I still want to look good. Puffy eyes do not a good look make.
He remembers. No doubt now. He was really excited, tail wagging, body wiggling, his ears tucked back, and eyes pinned on her. We had to stop at the curb for a car. She's just across the street now.
"no words no words no words"
I finally crossed the street after the car had passed, and walked up to her.
Man she looks good. I guess I'm not the only one not eating. She's regained those sharp features that she slayed me with when I first saw her back in 1992.
I don't think she looked at me. I wanted my pupil to mirror in hers for a second, but she wouldn't look up.
I handed her the leash, a bag of mail that had accumulated, and the computer speakers I had forgotten to give her with the system I built for her. And the hardest part yet, I handed her the large framed photograph that I had taken off the wall beside my computer desk here just before I left the apartment tonight with Morgan.
A photographer had taken that pic one day at granville island when I was inside getting us coffee. He won some award with it. Then he gave her (us) a framed 11 x 20 inch print of it.
In one of the emails back and forth today that set up this meeting, she said:
I also don't expect you want that picture of Morgan and me that's hanging on the wall. I don't see why you would want a photo of your ex hanging up, so I'd like to have it back, as it was given to me.
I had to agree, I've been catching myself walking up to that photo sometimes when I get home from work. No, I don't say anything to it, I just look for a second, then walk away.
I looked over there just now, and the discoloured rectangle left behind from where it hung needs to be dealt with and fast. That's just way too symbolic for me right now and there is no way I want to come home from work tomorrow, and walk up to the wall only to see the framed ghost.
That was it. I handed her the leash, the bag of mail, the photo... and she broke the rules saying "thank you" it was barely audible. I turned and walked away.
I did look back once when I crossed the street, she was bent over him, maybe hugging him, or maybe hiding her tears. I've used him for that too.
When I got home, opened the door to the apartment, I found it eerily quiet in here. No dog to greet me at the door, big stuffed animal in his mouth, snuffling and snorting as he makes his circles around the living room, so happy to see me. Man I bet she has really really missed that. I am so glad I was able to get past all this shit and do this.
I walked past a little shop on the way home and bought myself some fucking flowers.
Sure am noticing how NOT over her I am though. man, it's like a drug. 6 weeks of cold turkey, and then in one tiny little hit, BAM back to square one.
Ah fuck. where was I again?
I need to buy one of those LED signs that advertise above freeway overpasses. I need to install it on the wall of my living room, and then program it to keep telling me a different reason every day as to why I am doing this.
Right now however, I'd be afraid to look up at it... afraid to see it blinking:
? : ? : ? : ? : ? : ?
It's weird, I was walking up Bute st, past the West Valley produce market, and I could see her from two blocks away. Funny how after all those years, you can just pick them out in a crowd so quickly.
'fuck. Well, there she is.. remember don't say anything. no words. nothing.'
Walking closer, I started talking to Morgan.
"who's that? Morgie??" I said In that typical person to doggie voice that should be embarassing to use in public, but isn't. He got all prancy and started swinging his head around, scanning the people. Then he saw her. Man, I just wanna cry right now, but I can't because I have to go back in 2 hours and pick him up and I still want to look good. Puffy eyes do not a good look make.
He remembers. No doubt now. He was really excited, tail wagging, body wiggling, his ears tucked back, and eyes pinned on her. We had to stop at the curb for a car. She's just across the street now.
"no words no words no words"
I finally crossed the street after the car had passed, and walked up to her.
Man she looks good. I guess I'm not the only one not eating. She's regained those sharp features that she slayed me with when I first saw her back in 1992.
I don't think she looked at me. I wanted my pupil to mirror in hers for a second, but she wouldn't look up.
I handed her the leash, a bag of mail that had accumulated, and the computer speakers I had forgotten to give her with the system I built for her. And the hardest part yet, I handed her the large framed photograph that I had taken off the wall beside my computer desk here just before I left the apartment tonight with Morgan.
A photographer had taken that pic one day at granville island when I was inside getting us coffee. He won some award with it. Then he gave her (us) a framed 11 x 20 inch print of it.
In one of the emails back and forth today that set up this meeting, she said:
I also don't expect you want that picture of Morgan and me that's hanging on the wall. I don't see why you would want a photo of your ex hanging up, so I'd like to have it back, as it was given to me.
I had to agree, I've been catching myself walking up to that photo sometimes when I get home from work. No, I don't say anything to it, I just look for a second, then walk away.
I looked over there just now, and the discoloured rectangle left behind from where it hung needs to be dealt with and fast. That's just way too symbolic for me right now and there is no way I want to come home from work tomorrow, and walk up to the wall only to see the framed ghost.
That was it. I handed her the leash, the bag of mail, the photo... and she broke the rules saying "thank you" it was barely audible. I turned and walked away.
I did look back once when I crossed the street, she was bent over him, maybe hugging him, or maybe hiding her tears. I've used him for that too.
When I got home, opened the door to the apartment, I found it eerily quiet in here. No dog to greet me at the door, big stuffed animal in his mouth, snuffling and snorting as he makes his circles around the living room, so happy to see me. Man I bet she has really really missed that. I am so glad I was able to get past all this shit and do this.
I walked past a little shop on the way home and bought myself some fucking flowers.
Sure am noticing how NOT over her I am though. man, it's like a drug. 6 weeks of cold turkey, and then in one tiny little hit, BAM back to square one.
Ah fuck. where was I again?
I need to buy one of those LED signs that advertise above freeway overpasses. I need to install it on the wall of my living room, and then program it to keep telling me a different reason every day as to why I am doing this.
Right now however, I'd be afraid to look up at it... afraid to see it blinking:
? : ? : ? : ? : ? : ?
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
Hmm let me see. Yes thats a good one.
Someone once told me that when you lose someone; to death or just circumstance, you don't actually morn the loss of the person but rather you mourn the loss of the time you thought you had together. I can feel a rant coming on. It's gotta be that evil "expectation" I'm thinkin about.
....
Ok so I just went back and read about 5 days worth of your journalife. And yes expectation is a killer and yes loss of time rather than loss of person blah blah bleh..
I said I've been near there but damn I had no idea just how near. Fortunately my trials have finally subsided. I managed to keep one of my relationships but the other one..holy god!! changed my perspective on what I thought was viable reality. The "friend" in question turned out to be a clinical sociopath, entrenched in a triangle with my "at the time" not so ex girl who was and is still living with me... Anyway. Your journal, not mine.
My sympathy. yah sure. Definitely. I can understand the emotional insanity of your time. Logic and emotion are bitter foes and if emotion has the floor, logic doesnt even get a vote. So dont beat yourself up too much for the trust breach, and try your best to understand that no matter how hard you try to understand (HA!) this all right now, it's only with time and space away from it that you will glean any actual serenity. Seriously. Time and space. At least, that's my sincerest hope.
a good friend of mine said something once that really made me think:
"yeah, I dunno man, weird."
Basically, no matter what, if I allow myself to care about this, I can do nothing but speculate about what could have possibly happened in those 3 hours. I have NO idea what it could be. Maybe a reaction to the ring, maybe a reaction to having to bring morgan back, who knows. It really bothered me for about an hour. "why the fuck was she totally glaring at me like that?"
I handed her the photocopies of all the vet bills, and she broke the silence rule by asking "what's that?" when I handed her the folded white sheets. I suppose she thought it was another note.
"the photocopies you asked for".
She took them, silence. Her eyes are puffy and soft around the edges, but the insides look dangerously sharp.
she had a bag of doggie doo doo in her hand. I offered to take it because I was going past a bin and she wasn't. She just glared and said something i didn't catch. I got the distinct impression that she would very much have liked to just open that bag up and give me some twisted japanese spa facial treatment. I walked back here, totally frustrated and confused.
Well fuck it. I suppose its the little things like that that actually help me out here. After I first dropped him off, after seeing her for the first time in so long, I walked away from that with a fresh sorrow, a fresh feeling of loss and a fresh feeling of uncertainty that I did the right thing in ending this.
3 hours later, I am walking away full of frustration and confusion as I try to backtrack inside my head to isolate the cause of her reaction. Then finally it dawns on me that that type of shit happened in just about every argument we ever had. I would try so hard to dig down inside of me, get past the wall I would sometimes build up and find out what was really going on inside me, then tell her. Fully honest about what I was feeling, even if at times it made me sound like an idiot. She would then respond, still in the anger of the moment, and her response would be nothing to do with what I had just said. It would be in response to what she thought I meant by what I just said. Fuck that was frustrating. It never changed either.
So yeah, I guess I won't ever know what the hell happened last with her last night, but I'm left with two things here:
1. a renewed conviction that I am definately doing the right thing here.
2. I feel a little sorry for her.