Love

It’s morning. I’m stting in the 24 hr coffee shop with free wireless around the corner from my mom’s. I couldn’t sleep anymore. I am buzzing, not from coffee because I don’t drink it. I keep wondering when I’m going to get serious. I say I’m here, here in the city because my mom is sick. I’m staying with her because she is sick. Is it true? Doesn’t feel true. Feels like a safe nice answer. I am staying with my sick mother. I want to be close to her in case she needs something, and because I want to be close to her. She is mostly fine, and she may be fine for a long time. Nobody knows.

I screened my film last night. Got some good feedback and some unwanted from some old guy trying to shove a card in my face telling me how many “ums” I said while I was speaking and that he could help me with that. I didn’t care. I don’t care what they think of it. It initally felt important to show it last night, at Carnegie. I thought it would be this emotional thing, but it wasn’t. I didn’t feel it. I felt it after. I felt the affection from people I see on the street. I felt the loneliness sitting in another coffee place having tea, and wishing I could go see somebody that doesn’t want to see me. Wishing we had healed what needs to be healed, and he would hold me. I know it can’t go back to how it was. Our old dynamic needs to die. It is so hard though. I think of him everyday, throughout the day. I woke up this morning trying to squeeze him out of my head. It is less than it was, but I still get flashes through the day, particullarly around sunshine. My best memories, best of my life have been with him, when the sun was shining. I’m hanging on, I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know if there will be anymore amazing days with this person, or if that’s it. We had our quota and now I let go, because we have this shitty dynamic that is painful for both of us. I let go and meet other people I will have great memories of, and other kinds of, and potentially the same kind of shitty dynamic, but I hope for the courage, patience and the willingness from myself and these unknown other people to work through them. I hope for that now with him too. Partially true. Part of me is tired, and feels done, is angry with myself for falling into these dynamics, still caught up in old trauma, and letting it guide my behavior. I know. I need to go easy on myself, but I always wonder why. If I don’t push me who will, and honestly I wouldn’t hear it from anyone else. I am not serious. I act like I’m serious. Like I listen, but I don’t really. I don’t let it in. I don’t feel like I really hear people. I act like I hear people. I find it hard to take them in. I’m not as brave as I play, or as open. I’m not that interested in other people, not deeply anyway. I would like to be.

I stayed with my friend and her husband this past week. They have both been through so much in their lives, and they together as a couple, They are living in this beautiful place high above Grand Forks. They seem even happier, as individuals and as a couple. They have committed to each other to work it out, and when they need do their own thing, they can, and are supportive of each other. She is taking off for a while to go study and he will stay where he is happy, up in the mountains in their beautiful home, off the grid, playing his guitar, being active in his community, while she is studying to become an even better herbalist than she already is. They are not perfect, but they are pretty happy, and are living in a way that feels right to them. Low impact on the earth and greater impact on each other and their community. That’s love.

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