Personal Journal

Blocks lifted

What I can say is that whatever it was that took me to Match to try to meet some people was definitely obstructing feelings I have about Jean's passing. I've been crying a lot, and I haven't cried in a while, and certainly not twice like this in two days.

On the one hand, it disappoints me to realize that my personality was weak enough to fall for such a simple ruse as escapism in this matter. On the other hand, I feel happy to recognize yet again how dear Jean remains to me. And as strange as this is to write, it feels appropriate that my life is still adrift without her.

I remember crying on the way home and thinking "If I could just put my arms around you and cry on you, everything would be set right."
Like I've said before, I hate knowing that these dreams are unfilfillable. I've never really had dreams that could not be made true before. It becomes a new kind of melancholy.

So I'm finding myself at ease being a bit ill at ease. Things feel more real now, even if they don't feel particularly "happy" or "good" (or whatever you'd prefer to call it - we're in a strange adjectival world).

And at least when I'm looking down at my feet, I notice where I'm standing. there's a lot more to that than I feel I can adequately write about tonight.

I need life to be real.
And what's real is that I still hate that Jean is gone. Probably always will hate it, though I'll have to come to some means of not carrying hate around with me. I do feel she watches me somehow. I hear her laugh sometimes, and feel her smile.

I'm going kayaking tomorrow - flatwater practice. I'm sure something noteworthy will occur to me while I'm out there.

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn