I went to church on Sunday night..... I was having a rough night.... an emotionally unstable night..... so I really shouldn't have gone..... or maybe I should have.... I don't know.....
Standing around with some people, talking. One of the ladies pulls out a framed picture of Jesus, and starts gushing about how her friend gave it to her.... "I'm gonna cry!!" she says. So I ask why. "Well because it's just so beautiful" she replies. I come back with "Go ahead and do that then."
Not expecting that she would actually start crying.
Her eyes got red. She's looking at me with these red eyes, and because I'm emotionally unstable, I'm sure my eyes are getting red as well, if they're not already.... so I look away. When I look back at her, she's tearing up. I start tearing up. I look away. When I look back, we're both in tears. She hugs me. I weep on her shoulder as she prays. We part, wipe our eyes. She turns to the person she was supposed to have been talking to and says "Sorry. I think God just accosted me."
It was so weird.
I had a hard day at work today. I realized that I have some grieving to do. So I slipped out a back door and sat on the paved step facing the river and cried. Why is it that for me grief always manifests itself as anger? Wait.... with me, everything manifests first as anger. I guess it's relatively the easiest emotion to feel, because as long as you can be pissed, you don't have to work it out. It can be someone else's fault, and you can tell everyone about it.
But anger is not an appropriate emotion in this case. This is a time of transition, and transition is part of life, just like winter, and death, and TV lineup changes. Transition makes me tired and cranky. But this transition is especially hard.
These last two years, despite the many difficult periods, were possibly the happiest I've ever experienced. This is the first real home I've ever known, a place where I feel safe and happy and a place I love to come home to. I love my roomie and I love this house and I love the dogs and I love the lifestyle we've accomplished. If all of those things were wrapped up in a human form, that human form would be dead. I pass it's corpse on the way to the bathroom, the kitchen, my bedroom. It's propped up in the basement watching TV, so that sometimes I can even pretend that this is still our home, instead of THEIR home.
So behold. The death of my home. Time to move on..... but where? I have nothing saved..... I know no more single people...... As a matter of fact, I don't have a single friend in this city who is anywhere near my age or stage of life. I love all my friends and their families too...... but..... is it any wonder I've been playing with the idea of returning to Regina? The possibility of getting a place with Chimwemwe..... a mutual home with a close friend..... a never-ending supply of possible roommates in the form of naiive fresh faced bible school students.
I just want to be free of this grief so I can get back to being happy for my friends. I hate worrying about things like survival..... money.....
Oh, the tearing. Wake me up when it's over.
Standing around with some people, talking. One of the ladies pulls out a framed picture of Jesus, and starts gushing about how her friend gave it to her.... "I'm gonna cry!!" she says. So I ask why. "Well because it's just so beautiful" she replies. I come back with "Go ahead and do that then."
Not expecting that she would actually start crying.
Her eyes got red. She's looking at me with these red eyes, and because I'm emotionally unstable, I'm sure my eyes are getting red as well, if they're not already.... so I look away. When I look back at her, she's tearing up. I start tearing up. I look away. When I look back, we're both in tears. She hugs me. I weep on her shoulder as she prays. We part, wipe our eyes. She turns to the person she was supposed to have been talking to and says "Sorry. I think God just accosted me."
It was so weird.
I had a hard day at work today. I realized that I have some grieving to do. So I slipped out a back door and sat on the paved step facing the river and cried. Why is it that for me grief always manifests itself as anger? Wait.... with me, everything manifests first as anger. I guess it's relatively the easiest emotion to feel, because as long as you can be pissed, you don't have to work it out. It can be someone else's fault, and you can tell everyone about it.
But anger is not an appropriate emotion in this case. This is a time of transition, and transition is part of life, just like winter, and death, and TV lineup changes. Transition makes me tired and cranky. But this transition is especially hard.
These last two years, despite the many difficult periods, were possibly the happiest I've ever experienced. This is the first real home I've ever known, a place where I feel safe and happy and a place I love to come home to. I love my roomie and I love this house and I love the dogs and I love the lifestyle we've accomplished. If all of those things were wrapped up in a human form, that human form would be dead. I pass it's corpse on the way to the bathroom, the kitchen, my bedroom. It's propped up in the basement watching TV, so that sometimes I can even pretend that this is still our home, instead of THEIR home.
So behold. The death of my home. Time to move on..... but where? I have nothing saved..... I know no more single people...... As a matter of fact, I don't have a single friend in this city who is anywhere near my age or stage of life. I love all my friends and their families too...... but..... is it any wonder I've been playing with the idea of returning to Regina? The possibility of getting a place with Chimwemwe..... a mutual home with a close friend..... a never-ending supply of possible roommates in the form of naiive fresh faced bible school students.
I just want to be free of this grief so I can get back to being happy for my friends. I hate worrying about things like survival..... money.....
Oh, the tearing. Wake me up when it's over.
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