I awoke this morning to a soft, depressing rain. A week ago, I would have considered this to be a good thing since I won't have to water the plants outside the house later. Today it seems like a meaningful task in which I could have done some good has been taken from me. If I believed in a higher power, I'd say this was engineered. But I don't, so I'll stick with the conclusion that it's dumb luck.
A soundtrack of songs has been playing in my head since before I got out of bed- horrible, cheesy, cliche 80's love/breakup ballads. Yesterday I found myself plugging in headphones whenever possible to drown them out with my own selection of indie rock of the angry girl persuasion. I may amend that playlist for future drown out sessions.
Last night, after several days of 'non communicado,' she came back to our home. She'd sent me a message asking if I was ready to talk about things. Angry words had been spoken over the telephone prior to our rendezvous and conclusions had been uttered, but inside I felt like this was another chance. I was wrong.
I came home early from work, stopping by the flower shop to get some lilies, her favorite flowers. I came home and arranged them as best I could, periodically pausing to do the dishes, vacuum the living room, sweep the kitchen, do the laundry, and pick up the clothes that I'd dropped wherever I pleased as either a protest to her absence or an ascertion of my independence... I'm not sure which. After she arrived and our talk began, I realized what a fool I'd been to waste my effort.
After seven years of neglect of my family and friends, I realize how well I'd chosen my friends and how dedicated the select members of my family who were privvy to the situation were to me. In the past week I've spent only a sum total of a few hours in the house thanks to their kindness and company. At this very moment, my phone is going off with requests for breakfast, lunch, and dinner today. I am truly gracious and appreciative and may take them up, but I can't help but feeling like a burden. I said to my brother-in-law last night upon his arrival, "so, you pulled baby sitting duty, tonight?" He laughed and told me that wasn't the case and I thanked him for it anyway.
He came over that day to help me haul a boxing bag back to the house. I'd been thinking about getting one for quite some time, but that day seemed more appropriate than any other. I need something other than the cigarettes I've recently taken back up in which to release some frustration. I assume the boxing bag won't contribute to my bad breath as much as the cigarettes, though I doubt it will leave me with the smooth satisfaction they've been engineered to provide.
I pride myself on my skill of adaptability. I treasure my logic and reason. To this point, it has been difficult to apply either of those to my situation. 'We' had a trip quasi-planned to go to Ireland next year for my thirtieth birthday. I think perhaps I might take the opportunity to go this year for my twenty-ninth. Just typing it makes me feel selfish and inconsiderate as we both wanted to go. I'm finding that it's difficult to stop regarding another in my decisions and I'll have to find a delicate balance between re-acquiring my singular will and not being a dick to the other people who are still in my life.
Thank you, dear reader, for reading my blubbering. I'm confident that smoother sailing lies ahead after these choppy waters, though I'm not sure who or what may be on the boat with me. Time heals all wounds. Oh no... Richard Marxx and the soundtrack are back again!
