Stupidity

I'm not a stupid or weak person but sometimes I do stupid things in moments of weakness. I think what I did yesterday was a good idea (banishing the rest of my Vancouver things into a box in storage) but how I handled it was poor. I seem to upset people in my life far too easily, and of course unintentionally. But I do want to say a couple things here to make me feel like something good may come of yesterday's events.

I had left out several things in my apartment that were connected to or reminded me of my time in Vancouver. I also had a journal where I'd written everything about that time in my life. When I was feeling sad or lonely or missed him, I would take out the journal and read some of it, or I'd just hold his shirt and cry over it a few moments, etc etc. Last night I was doing some good thinking and asked myself why I felt like I couldn't put away his things. I came up with the following:

- I really want to feel loved again and being close to his things reminded me how that felt. It reminded me of the most wonderful experiences. I realized that I'm afraid that I'll forget them if they're not close at hand and in my mind. You say, well isn't that the purpose of the journal? Yes, yes it is. But even though he's entirely gone from my life, I could keep him closer by these few things I could touch and see. I felt loved when I saw them.

- I thought I needed someone else to love me, to fill that dark little hole that constantly seems to seep, and THEN I could back the things up and put them away. My realization last night is that I don't need someone to love me in his place. I don't need a replacement. Making someone fit into his shoes is unfair and insulting. I am going to have to be ok with just being where I am. I can make room for new experiences, but I certainly shouldn't try to fill the holes that were left behind, I should just accept it and look forward to new experiences. I have friends and family who love me, not the same way obviously, but it's a good thing to have nonetheless, and it's what I have to work with for now.

- I felt like I could use Vancouver as a backup when I was alone or sad, and the fact is he's never coming back so I can't rely on the position of back up anyway. It's stupid. I have no clue why I felt like that would be helpful. I wonder if I've been tormenting myself by preserving his prescence.

I didn't handle the separation well when it happened, and how I've managed it since has been remarkably selfish and all around stupid. A very smart and caring person once told me that while it may have been the best time of my life so far, I should remember it fondly for what it was, but let it go and know that it's in the past. At the time, when this advice was given to me, I could see absolutely no possibility of accepting it as past and that it had to be filed away in my memory, not actively experienced. So I held out for the hope of something to change (which it can't, hence the title of today's blog, "Stupidity") and refused to let go, although I told myself that I was. Last night I spent so much time trying to critically see what others must see when I describe the situation. Those closest to me know the full details and they all have continued to say "let it go". My standard response: "I am, just slowly." When I reflected last night on what my friend's advice to me had been, and how I just brushed it off as impossible, I started to understand suddenly that it was only impossible because I refused to let it go. This of course made me sadder that I've handled it so poorly. I have noticed in recent weeks that when I think about Vancouver and all that was involved, I get sad. Not happy. I can remember the happy stuff, but it makes me sad to think about, so why make it easier to think about? I decided then that I would pack the stuff all away and close that door a little more firmly. Out of sight, out of mind perhaps, but it should help. I re-read the entire journal, alternating laughing and crying and just remembering. When it was done, I closed the book, packed up his shirts and jacket, some things he had given me, little things here and there I picked up along the way, cried over all of it and sealed it up. When it was done, I looked around and didn't feel like anything was missing particularly. Home is still home, my friends are still my friends, and the past is still the past. Closing that box was hard, but necessary, and I think I can make more room in my heart and mind and spaces in my life for some new things. I wouldn't trade my past for anything, so it would be foolish not to learn from it too. To my smart friend who cared enough to say what was needed, even if it took me several months to really hear it, thank you. I'm glad you were there. And I'm sorry I've been such a wank.