He takes me by the hand, drags me to the shore and says, "Baby you don't love me, but you will grow to love me even more."

OK. So maybe I couldn't resist. Maybe in the time when I was neglecting my blog, I wrote pages upon pages upon pages of words inside a little black book. And maybe during all that time, I figured out a shit-load of stuff about myself. So, I guess I needed it. A break from the blog, and some time spent on my own. Now that I've discovered a few things, I feel the need to post again, to share the thoughts I stumbled across.

This morning, around 1 am, I suddenly found myself awake and semi-alert. Usually I don't stir in the middle of the night, so I concluded that something must have disturbed my sleep. I closed my eyes, but kept my ears trained to the subtle night-sounds around me. Then I heard it; a low, gutteral rumble that bloomed into a full-blown roar. I jumped up and opened my window, and saw a blinding flash of light. A grin crept across my lips. I love storms. I stayed awake and watched for another 20 minutes or so, I even tape recorded some thunder. In the morning, I woke up sick. I went to work and attached myself to a box of tissues, while phoning a zillion people to say their swings had arrived and were available for pick-up. Do you know how hard it is to say 'swing' with a stuffy nose?

Anyway, that's all besides the point. After I closed my blog, I settled into a melancholy sort of mindset, that allowed for little more than depression and deep self-analysis. I knew that I wasn't happy, and I could say that honestly. Although I wasn't fully aware of what was happening, with each day that passed, I got a little closer to what I was looking for. I guess the appropriate way of conveying the time that passed is breaking it down into events.....

The first event takes place at my mother's house. My sister was there also. The three of us sat and talked for hours, and I couldn't help but feel....unattached. As if I was watching the two of them act out a play while I sat offstage. The drugs messed with my common sense, and I found myself rooted to the ground in fear sometimes, because I felt like I didn't recognize my own family members. Even more intense, was the loss of connection to myself. I felt so awkward and uncomfortable in my own skin. As the night grew long, and our eyes drooped with sleep, the three of us spoke in hushed tones and muffled laughter. We had discussed everything from love to death, and I had even read some of my journal out loud.
"Hillary, when I hear your writing, it's like the words are coming straight from my mouth. That's me," my Mom insisted. Tracey even finished a few of my sentences. I felt like they understood, and we all agreed on one thing. Tracey and I had figured something out that takes other people their entire lives to learn. We were finished with the endless string of dead-end relationships and abuse of love. We were angry, and tired, and emotionally spent. Fleeting and definitely less intense, were the moments when I could honestly imagine myself in a relationship with another being. I went to bed feeling satisfied, but with a dull ache of sadness. I didn't find out until later what that sadness was.

Event two takes place in my living room. It was my day off, I had slept in, and was enjoying a book and blanket on the couch. I was deliciously alone. It gave me time to really examine what that word meant: alone. I felt compelled to write, and so I did.
I think I recognize how much more I like myself when I'm single. Maybe this is why I felt so lost and confused before, it's almost as if I have to get to know myself again. I changed so much in the last two years, I became a completely different person, and yet I was still...at times...in love. Or lust. I never got a chance to see who was underneath all the baggage that relationships add. I'm sitting here, and all of a sudden, it's as if I'm saying, "Oh, hi....who are you?"
So I sat and wrote and thought some more. I got acquainted with myself as a solitary person, not as an extension of someone else. For the first time, I felt like I was seeing me, not anyone else's impression of me. It felt so invigorating to shed traits that I had developed solely for someone else's benefit. Now, I'm not saying that I figured everything out in one night, I merely opened a door. I knew that I had uncovered something very vital, and I knew that it was due to the fact that I was alone. I went to bed that night, and right before I woke up the next morning, I had a dream. I could tell it was a test of sorts. My eyes opened and I felt a deep ache in my chest. I shut my eyes and tried to see the face that had, only minutes before, been pressed to mine. Then I sat up and thought really hard about all the things I was feeling. It would take another day of thought before I finally reached a conclusion.

Event three happened just before I drifted off to sleep. I was writing, and following the ink as if it were a train of thought leading me forward. I suddenly became quite aware of a distinct warmth around me. Well, it was more internal. I started to write about my relatives, then about myself, and finally about love. Then, it hit me. I felt completely full of comfort, and I felt oddly grounded for once. It was like losing something for so long that you forget you even had it in the first place, and then, one day, stumbling across it again. I felt happy. Honestly happy. I filled the pages of my book with my strange new feeling, and tried to decipher what it was. I felt as if I knew what love was, suddenly. And it had nothing to do with relationships. It had everything to do with myself and my surroundings. I wondered what I had felt before when I thought I felt love. Wow, I thought, I can only imagine how powerful this would be to share with another person. I can't describe how good I felt. It was such a strange emotion, but it wrapped itself around me and weighed me down. I sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Event four takes place in the morning. The day was different. It was sunny and cold, and it definitely felt like Fall. I got dressed, grabbed my bag, and decided to go to the mall for a haircut. I was early for the bus, so I sat on the curb and waited, reading a book that, by the end of the day, had become my favourite. While I read, a small spider crawled along my knee, and I noticed it's delicate movement out of the corner of my eye. I let the insect crawl onto my hand, and then brought it up to my face so I could see it better. The bug was spinning a small thread of silk out of it's abdomen, which glittered in the sunshine. Seconds later, the young spider took off of my hand, and was carried by his thread into the air. I don't know why I took great pleasure in this event, but it stuck with me for the rest of the day.
Once I was on the bus, I noticed a man across from me in a wheelchair. I could tell that he was fiercly reliant on his own independance, politely refusing help even though he was having trouble navigating his chair. He got off the bus at the same time as me, and we both headed towards the mall doors. When I turned around, I noticed that he was having trouble getting himself up over the curb. He was too weak to push himself, and he could barely get out and walk. Before I had a chance to approach him, another elderly man doubled back and said, "Wait sir, sit back down, I'll push you." I, meanwhile, held the door open for the two of them, but once the older man had control of his wheelchair again, he took off for the automatic door.
"Wait," the other guy called, "This nice young girl is holding the door open for us." But the old man just pointed in the other direction, and went into the mall by himself. I smiled, and did the same. The other man caught up with me.
"Thank you," he said, "Not many people notice that sort of thing these days."
I shrugged.
"Makes you feel kinda good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," I agreed. This situation, like the spider incident, was amplified for some reason. I felt one hundred times better than I usually would, given the same circumstances. I felt peaceful, in a sad sort of way. Happy-sad. You know the feeling.

Event five really doesn't count as an event at all. It's more like a conclusion. I was familiar with this new air about me, and I wondered if there was anything else to it. I was happy, but was I missing anything? I thought back to the many occasions where I used and was used; where I mistook lust for love; where I tormented myself, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong in life. I thought back to the time when I felt like I had nothing left to give to anyone. And now I realized that I was wrong. I had found something that had eluded me for years, and I finally had something left to give. Then came my next dilemma: who to give it to?

I have a feeling that I still have a long way to go. I still have so much to learn. I still have a lot of time that I need to spend alone. The difference is, I'm happy. I no longer go to sleep wondering if there is any good reason to wake up. I don't feel hopeless and suffocated when I examine my present situation in life. I'm not angry anymore, and it's as if that part of me just left. As simply as that. I have no external reason to feel like this, and that's how I know that it's genuine. I don't deny or ignore any facet of my existence, even if I don't understand it. I feel ready for whatever comes next.













"If I saved you from drowning, promise me you'll never go away."
-Tegan and Sarah