Back in Memories

This morning I’ve slipped fast into a sullen place.
I’ve got country music in my ears, cold air blasting and an empty coffee mug.
Country music brings me to the summer of 2011 back in Canada, when it’s all I listened too. My heart aches.
For those people. Those memories.
Memories are special because you don’t get them back.
How intricate are the sad ones mixed in with the bad ones.
How good the idea of leaving it all behind heightens every single thing that happens in my time there.
But it doesn’t matter how much better it makes it.
I would choose to stay there without the idea of leaving.
And maybe next time I go back, it is what I will believe.

The Goodbyes Begin

The goodbyes begin.
My heart got heavier the closer I got to home and we pulled over twice on the way, to hold one another. The sun was rising and there was a big puddle of cloud that was being painted pink.
I am so tired and I am so drained and today I must do my sons first birthday party.
I am hiding in the living room while showers go on and footsteps happen and I don’t feel like talking to anyone today. My eyes sting and my hair is ugly and I don’t want to see anyone today.
He’s been my best friend for four years and we’ve hung out everyday for the past week. We do it to ourselves. Setting up attatchment camps and roasting care like we don’t want to think about what it will be like when we’re apart.
We created memories that I will always have rathered to do then not and when he pulled out of the driveway my heart sunk a hundred notches and I could barely make it up the porch steps.

This is what love does sometimes and it is good to think of it as a good thing. It is worthy of all my tears and heartache, my snotty nose and red eyes.. whatever it is, it can produce these feelings and that is a powerful thing.

Breaking Down in the Last Week

My head is spinning and I’m whirling myself into people’s arms hoping to make some impact.Hoping they won’t be able to forget me and I am neglecting my child and own sister and mother and it hits me today that going back is going to be harder than ever before. Not exactly the leaving part. But the living there part. I have now experienced this life with friends and child.I have finally combined them too in a rapid pace and I am clinging to it.
I have no energy for my child. I am pushing him away as I step outdoors and gulp the last of this air. The people glow. I am feeling guilty and worn and my voice is half gone. I am pushing myself on 5 hours of sleep at night. I am doing as much as I can in the time I have. I am getting frantic and simple things are now making me whimper. Planning to meet people is becoming difficult and I am snapping at my mother.
My ends are unravelling and I feel at this point I have no control. Nor do I want to. My eyes are set on here and now. On the stuff that I won’t have for much longer. I tell myself I’ll be better in Thailand. That I’ll fix this madness. That there won’t even be anything to fix. But deep down I know, something is up. I’m not a good mother here and I don’t know if I will be as good of one over there as I was before I left to visit Canada.
I am scared.
I am emotional.
I am breaking down.

Coming Back to a Past

I dont think its weird that people are changed or gone, but I am pulled between being happy and sad. I cannot imagine being 30, even 25 and not ever having left Sarnia, Ontario, even Canada.  That is me personally but either way thats the part that makes me happy for those leaving. The other side has me sad and feeling bad for being away the remaining years that the person/people have been here. I understand that lifes paths’ are all different and inevitably people do go down ones’ different from there friends. It is a transition I feel I wanted to be here for and during so that I could take the shift of change with everyone else. Living abroad starting years back pulled me away from that gradual shift and upon reentry I find myself unable to help the desire I have for reuniting and for old good friends to be around.Reguardless of where they are at in life. It is why it is easy to go to a party of friends I haven’t seen for years and be chummy with them as if I had never left. It is why it is easy to contact people that made impact on my life and request to get together. For the friends next to me that have been in the area since the beginning… they find it harder to do that because there has been space all along for them to make the effort. And they just haven’t. It surprised me. But this is how it is. If I had lived here all my life, we all know life would be dramatically different. Who knows, I may even have met you.

Country to Country: People and Interaction

The last three visits I have made to Canada, have been for two months at a time.
Going into it my brain and heart know this. Going through it, my brain and heart know this.
Even though I absorb and seem to mesh into Ontario life quite easily, it is more what it appears like and not what it is.
Since I already know this is temporary, the impact is greater and longer lasting. Conversations are always so much better after I’ve been away. Clicks in my head happen at the slightest things. At things like understanding my rapid mumbles. I am impressed with people and their ability to pick up on feelings and senses. I am humbled by human nature and somedays, it even brings me to tears.
I won’t even have grasped the entirity of my stay- my confrontations and conversations- before I go back.. and knowing this, is just another of those alterations.

I always was a bit shy with my eyes but.. I was better at speaking. I knew where I was going with my sentences and I didn’t feel like the world was spinning backwards and I had to run to keep on top.
And now, when it comes to interaction, there is more that I feel.
And that always makes me feel connected…
and distracted.
So when I’m at an event full of people I haven’t seen in years, there are obligations and conversations that act as magnets and some that lack concentration. I am all over the map as I tighten up my hair elastics and hop right into their train of thought and go. Two miles later while it is still moving, I am getting out. And in that three minute train ride I’ve calculated my insecurities and outwitted my doubts, I’ve surprised myself with my bold and confident form, and I’ve seen someone else that I need to talk to.
So I hop on the next train.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I was all over the map.

When it is all said and done, whether it be weddings, a pub or a funeral party, a downtown group I know well.. I end up reeling in goodness. And also in bad.
It matters that people make effort. It matters that they drive 20 minutes to see me. It matters that they pick me up on ten minute notice and drive me to get a Greek salad without olives.
Being outside of this country has given me new appreciation for friendships and has helped me self reflect in a lot of ways.
Even though I value effort, I know I love certain people by the way that I will go to them.
Every single time.
And it circles back to the fact that I know I am only here visiting. I can do this much now, because in two months time I will be away from the opportunity.

I will not have unloyal or disrespecting friends. I will not have friends that ignore me.
Each new time these two month visits are over, a slew of Facebook friends are deleted.
It doesn’t take a life in another country and then the reentry, to figure out that some people just aren’t wanted in my life anymore..
but that’s the way it happens for me.
And that is where the bad comes in.

It is likely considered dissapointment.
In which; I feel sad when someone I thought would, doesn’t.
I get cocooned and it becomes interesting when I turn it inside out and have the fuzzy touching me.
Because I too, am capable of effort.
I too, can make the approach and dismiss the current car I am in.
If I value that person enough, why shouldn’t I.
I take this fuzzyness and accept how I don’t care to wrap it around people that I used to.

When it comes to people in my life, the selection becomes something I am more selective about. Life is busier and time is more valuable so the people I want to be with, had darn well better be special.

A Part of Me Found

A country determines a lot. It determines my lifestyle and the clothes I wear. The food I eat and the people I speak too. It makes me feel confident about myself or it doesn’t.

A few days ago I went to a gathering of about 30 people from my highschool. I spoke to all but four of them. I hugged all but four of them.
I felt confidence streaming out of my eyelids as I made contact with each one. I haven’t seen that part of me in years. I thought I had lost that.
It was there in front of me before I even realized what was going on.
Here I was, confronting others and stepping into there circle to join the conversation and to point out the silly things in life and the fact that I was now home for two months.
That part of me hasn’t been used in awhile and it felt good to get it back.
I didn’t really know it was gone or temporarily out of order, I just have had this sense of missage. That I was lacking something.
Over in Thailand, I don’t step into circles and speak as rapidily as I do here. I don’t fall into a zone and wipe the corners down.
It is a part of me I am proud of. I like it. It is part of me that I know people enjoy. They smile at it. At my quirked movements and expressions. There is an underlying shyness to how I speak and I’ve been told it’s cute. I don’t mean for it to be there, it’s just my past laced in throughout how I converse.
It is actually a large part of how I took on the years between 18 and 21. And those years have been of the greatest. I wonder how I do it. Go without utilizing it in Thailand. How I can be as happy without it.

I guess it comes down to the man I am with and the baby I have and how those excude a different type of greatness. I interact as a husband and as a mother and I admit, that in those positions I have yet to find the confidence I boast of in my interaction with English speaking people.
I do believe, one day I will.
And I will let you know.

Cookies In The Middle

Last night I had wine down by the river. In a silver thermos.
My friend and I walked the length of a ship that was docked across from a restaurant and we pretended there were doors on the side of the rig. We felt the ropes that tied the boat down. They were the size of my arms.
I stepped in a huge puddle and laughed with the geese. We stood on the playground boat and talked about where the boat would take us. It’s the same boat we stood on over a year ago on the last day I was in town.
I wore all green.
Half a bottle of wine and I was in for a good giggle. We walked to Tim Hortons to meet two other friends. My cheeks were rosy and the lighting in the place made my eyes feel funny.
I think the real purpose of this post is to talk about the three cookies that I ordered. I ordered two at first and set them down in the middle of the table for us all to snack on. I think I got about 4 bites pulled off in total. I gave my friend a toonie to get another one. Because I wanted more than four bites of two cookies. He came back with it and I set it in the middle again. If I wanted to eat it so bad I’m not sure why I did that. I pulled a piece off and we began chatting. Not even one minute later I went to have more of the cookie. There was one piece left. If anyone was looking at my face they would have noticed how surprised I was. I didn’t care much then. I really didn’t.
I thought of my three friends and how low it was to snag so much cookie from me. It’s simple and childish and I shoudn’t have put it in the middle. But I just figured it would be more shared. Like friends do, right?
I expected my friends to let the one that bought the cookie, eat at least half of it.
Anyhow,
I solved all this irritation today by going to Tim Hortons and buying two chocolate chip cookies.I ate them both slowly, and came to the conclusion that I was no longer going to put cookies in the middle of the table.