So I hated my job, the money sucked, I was uncomfortable at home, I was questioning the quality of some of the friendships that I had developed for various reasons, and I seemed to have developed a pattern of dating emotionally unavailable men- to say the least, and the last one ( voice for radio and a face for television guy), really hurt.
So during a rather epic melt down, I opted to pack up whatever I could and head home for the summer.
No job in sight, no plans, small budget. I just pretended to be hopeful. And that was easy because I foolishly spoke with or texted with Voice for Radio and a Face for Television the entire 3 day drive- when I had service. And it was easy because aside from a few wonderful friends, I wasn't leaving much happiness behind.
When I wasn't chatting with him, or avoiding calls where the caller would ask questions that I wasn't prepared to answer, I was making a list of things that I loved about myself- I've been working on it for 5 months and was finally able to come up with 5 things. I made lists of qualities that I want to be more aware of- qualities that I don't admire but am typically unaware of until they've derailed me. I pictured my summer, and the 6 months that will follow it, I idealized my bank account balance, and went over plans to get out of debt. I tried not to think about the people that I was leaving behind, even if it is just for a short while, because I didn't need any additional reasons to cry.
I slept under the sun, and kept my eyes peeled for moose at night.
And then I got home and realised that it had changed and home had become a place unknown. That is, I'm not sure where I call home at this point. The one that I grew up with and in, I don't like any more. The one that I was trying to build in Edmonton, I packed up or sold or gave away because I wanted no reminder of it or any man that I'd ever shared a home with-Aside from the pleasant memories I will always hold onto, I did succeed.
So now I"m in my home town, with a beautiful jeep that will never have enough trunk space (WHY DIDN'T I GET THE WRANGLER) contemplating driving to some other place. Where should that be?- I'd like to start over.
again.
"...‘Girls like you’ your mother says
'are going to be disappointed a lot.’
She’s chopping coriander so fast that her hand is a blur
and you’re 12 and you’re standing
like a tremble, grubby knees and tear stained cheeks,
an offering in front of her
'Why?’ Your voice is a quiet shake.
She puts the knife down and calls you 'jaan’
she holds your face in her wet hands,
you don’t flinch because this
is what love looks like
she kisses your forehead like forgiveness
'because you mean what you say,
you think other people are the same.’ "
taken from Azra T.'s jaan e-maan
So during a rather epic melt down, I opted to pack up whatever I could and head home for the summer.
No job in sight, no plans, small budget. I just pretended to be hopeful. And that was easy because I foolishly spoke with or texted with Voice for Radio and a Face for Television the entire 3 day drive- when I had service. And it was easy because aside from a few wonderful friends, I wasn't leaving much happiness behind.
When I wasn't chatting with him, or avoiding calls where the caller would ask questions that I wasn't prepared to answer, I was making a list of things that I loved about myself- I've been working on it for 5 months and was finally able to come up with 5 things. I made lists of qualities that I want to be more aware of- qualities that I don't admire but am typically unaware of until they've derailed me. I pictured my summer, and the 6 months that will follow it, I idealized my bank account balance, and went over plans to get out of debt. I tried not to think about the people that I was leaving behind, even if it is just for a short while, because I didn't need any additional reasons to cry.
I slept under the sun, and kept my eyes peeled for moose at night.
And then I got home and realised that it had changed and home had become a place unknown. That is, I'm not sure where I call home at this point. The one that I grew up with and in, I don't like any more. The one that I was trying to build in Edmonton, I packed up or sold or gave away because I wanted no reminder of it or any man that I'd ever shared a home with-Aside from the pleasant memories I will always hold onto, I did succeed.
So now I"m in my home town, with a beautiful jeep that will never have enough trunk space (WHY DIDN'T I GET THE WRANGLER) contemplating driving to some other place. Where should that be?- I'd like to start over.
again.
"...‘Girls like you’ your mother says
'are going to be disappointed a lot.’
She’s chopping coriander so fast that her hand is a blur
and you’re 12 and you’re standing
like a tremble, grubby knees and tear stained cheeks,
an offering in front of her
'Why?’ Your voice is a quiet shake.
She puts the knife down and calls you 'jaan’
she holds your face in her wet hands,
you don’t flinch because this
is what love looks like
she kisses your forehead like forgiveness
'because you mean what you say,
you think other people are the same.’ "
taken from Azra T.'s jaan e-maan
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