Monday, August 17, 2009

Lessons On Loneliness

Anna says...

Here I am. It's the middle of August already and the summer seems almost like a flash of heat, sweat, rain and light. I spent my first summer away from home...away from my family and friends working for the man. That actually seems more depressing that it is. In all actuality, my summer was fantastic. I knit two scarves, I learned about wine, I learned to cook a few amazing dishes, I worked on my body, I went for walks, I tried new restaurants, I got some pretty good work experience, I met a few new people, I watched a ton of movies, I read a couple of books (more like magazines, but really what's the difference)...I cried myself to sleep only about three times (which really isn't that bad...I mean that’s like within 100 days of summer).

I read somewhere that humans aren't meant to be lonely. We are meant to be social creatures. When we become solitary we get trapped in our minds and within our own fantasies. Suddenly the world doesn't seem so wonderful because your thoughts become more fascinating and superficial chit-chat with colleagues and acquaintances seems almost like a bother. I'm at that stage right now. I've become so trapped in my own little this white house in Edmonton looking outside blaming them and not me...

It's a lot easier when your one challenges you. You are always right, because you simply are. You enter the real world and when someone attempts to enter into a discussion with you on something that you have accepted as being a truth-you refuse to budge. Instead, you nod politely and wish you were alone to silently fume to yourself about their stupidity and ignorance.It's a dangerous place your mind.

I cried myself to sleep on July 28th because I reached a low. It was 9:00 PM (or so) and I was in bed early. I had been invited out to a friend's house but decided I would rather be alone in my own bitterness. I started to feel that way...(do you know what I'm talking about?) when you are just plain frustrated with yourself. You're frustrated with how you feel. You're frustrated in the insignificant speck that you are in people’s lives and you realize how small and inconsequential you are and that you are most likely just a passing thought in your friends' and family's minds.

So I cried. I sobbed into my pillow for about 15 minutes (loudly because no one could hear me) and then turned on "The Holiday"-the scene where Kate Winslet in her little cottage in the U.K. to remind me that it’s okay to feel like crap sometimes.

I started talking to my 30 and older friends and family about loneliness. They all agreed that it is phase that everyone must go through, kind of like a rite of passage. Being 24, I have no answers for you. I am lonely. My weekends consist of me going out to get groceries and quickly running back to the comfort of my own home.

I don't feel depressed, but sometimes at night...when I start to feel it...I start imagining what it would feel like for someone to hug me (isn't that pathetic?) or what it would be like to hold a baby in my arms (even more pathetic because having children is the furthest thing from my mind) but closeness, warmth, connection (and not in a sexual or romantic way) is something that I long for. Maybe it’s the woman in me, but I have the feeling that it’s more like the human in me. I can't wait to come home and get hugs and give hugs. CHEERS TO HUGS!!!

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I lost it to Kenny G

Amelia says -

And ever since there has been a string of men coming (cuming?) in and out of my life. I know, I'm often cruder than there is any need to be. They come with more and less interesting names than Kenny G did (not the singer - I do have standards). Like Demba (mmm .... favorite name, favorite face to go with it. Fuck he was beautiful) and ... Joel (favorite body, it's a shame he's a stripper with no brains).

I got stuck a few times. For progressively longer periods with guys who were progressively imperfectly suited to me. Shit hey?

And now I'm jaded and protective. While that's a fun place to be (sometimes), I'm not sure it's the kindest.

So I plow through them ... enjoying myself as often as possible along the way. Because I really do enjoy enjoyment, but if it isn't happening, I really will rip your head off and eat you alive. And now I'm on my second Sean (who I'm really into but in denial about), Ryan (a friend I sleep with when I'm bored), Jay (a friend of a friend I sleep with when I'm drunk), and Jerr (who I've yet to have a successful date with but who I'm strangely attracted to (at least physically - what?! the physical ISN'T all that matters?!) nonetheless.

(I didn't mean to but this seems to have turned into a post (host) of asides).

Thursday, August 6, 2009

He told me he loved me, I puked my guts up

Amelia says -

My ex and I keep in touch - ish. About every 3 months or so I'll give him a call or he'll call me just to check in and see how the other is doing. We say we're going to meet up for coffee or something and then I consider my job done and forget about it until 3 months or so later when I figure it's time to give him another call.

But this time he called me on it. He asked me if I was ever really going to get together with him. I felt like a dick. So I said yes! Of course! Let's go to dinner next week. How about Monday?

So we went for dinner. At my favorite restaurant. A little Vietnamese place complete with bubble tea and all. Which I drank with my chow mein. And then I started to feel sick. I thought I'd just eaten too much so agreed to go for a walk with him. We started walking toward my house and I started to feel progressively sicker. So I said "walk faster. Just get me home without puking on myself ok?".

I made it so close. So close. I made it as far as the building next door to my house before I was bent over, one hand on the wall holding me up, puking pink noodles all over the place. He stood behind me rubbing my back and discretely stepping backward so I wouldn't vomit on his shoes. I managed to hold it down for a sec which I used to say "nice to see you bye!" and ran into my house.

That evening he called me. How nice. To see if I felt ok. To tell me that it was nice to see me. To tell me that seeing me brought up old memories. To tell me that he loves me. I'd successfully avoided a guy for 3 years and finally gave in and saw him and that's what I get?! Wasn't my behaviour poor enough to guarantee my safety from awkward situations like this? So I nicely told him that I didn't want to lie to him, because I thought that would only hurt him, and I just didn't feel it.

Now, when we are rejected, we have two options. One is to take it gracefully, or as gracefully as possible, and move on. The other, is to dig your heels in and fight. He fought. He asked me repeatedly why we couldn't be together. I explained repeatedly that I just didn't feel any chemistry any more. In my head I wished as loudly as I could for my roomate to come home, for someone else to call, for the apartment to catch on fire. Anything to get me off the phone. The pain finally ended when he, bawling now, told me that he couldn't see me anymore because it hurt too much, and my phone told me, beeping now, that it was going to cut off any second, and my conscience told me, you must have heard it screaming, that I was one hell of a bitch.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I just stared in awe and horror

at the woman in line in front of me at the grocery store. Easily 50, she stood there, all 4 foot 11 of her, in her striped leg warmers. Presumably she wore them to keep warm the legs she shamelessly exposed in a school-girl style mini. She topped off the ensemble with a matching hat. The hat matched the plaid pleated skirt, not the leg warmers bunched around her ankles - their lack of function indicating that she really just chose them solely for their stylish value.

So I stood there. And stared. I couldn't decide if I admired this woman who obviously still relished in her sexuality and wore it without shame. I couldn't help but wonder if she were married. Or had a lover. Perhaps a young lover - who inspired her to wear such age-inappropriate attire.

I couldn't decide if I was terrified of one day standing in her legwarmers being silently judged by the young woman behind me in line at the grocery store.

xo Amelia