I had a rough day.  It’s hard to even say why.  I went to therapy just feeling exhausted, worn down emotionally and pretty much unable to deal.  I spent most of the time talking about things I am worried about, but are mostly a deflection from my own problems.  Then we talked about faith and that was good.  Mostly I left with her telling me basically to live int  he moment a little more, and, you know, stop and smell the flowers.  Notice the color purple.  I actually left therapy feeling really uplifted.  I don’t know that we did any “work” on my actual problems, but I left with a sense that I had some tools and some goals of who I want to be.

Of course it was snowing when I left.  I’m so over this miserable winter.  I drove in the snow to the paint store where they were really nice and really helpful to me.  I got a great discount on the paint for my apartment (the painter had a contractor’s account there and my neighborhood is kind of like a small town in the way that people will take your word for it on stuff like “he said it’s okay to use his account”).  Then I dragged Violet out to help me make one small choice about wall color.  We were going to go out after but we both kind of lamed out, which was fine as I think we both really had other things we wanted to be doing.  I came home and put the last coat of primer on the sewing table and the first coat on the side table.  I am seriously obsessed with refinishing all my furniture to exactly the way I want it.  I guess maybe it’s because it’s something I can exert my will over, some small amount of control and I know it’s going to toward making a home for myself that feels like it’s really filled with MY things.

Hawthorn invited me to see my favorite hockey team play our team here in town.  I declined on the basis that the timing is bad based on my moving schedule and that this game is essentially an anniversary of our first date (same teams playing) and that it didn’t feel appropriate to go relive our first date the day before I’m moving out of our house.  He replied, “I understand.  I am sorry for having upset you on so many levels, but I know it is best in the long run; I will talk about this (us) at whatever level you want to, if you want to, but I don’t really know what to say about it unless prompted…”  I spent some time thinking about that this evening while I painted and I think I really do need to talk to him about all of this.  Just not yet.  After I’ve moved and settled and we can literally do it on my turf.  He’s right, it surely all is for the best in the long run.  Just I need to get over my sense of being abandoned, of being rejected, past how raw the hurt is.  Until then I’m gonna go along with our somewhat superficial companionability and focus on my furniture and my moving plans and wait for the right time.  There’s been enough bad timing in this whole thing already.

Right now I will breathe, and be thankful for the world.  I will think about mindfulness and I will be glad to be alive.  Even when it sucks.  I will go to sleep thinking about handsome princes, fictional and real.  I will dream about butterflies and fairies.

Ugh, I went looking for this picture to post (the Japanese Garden in Seattle, taken Sept. 2009) and what I stumbled into was a folder full of pictures of Oak and I together.  I am still determined to dream about butterflies and fairies, even after that surprisingly jarring experience.

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