I slept better last night, but woke up this morning to find that the cold I’ve been battling has won. I’m still fighting with vitamin C and hope, but I think I’ve just got to accept that I’m a little bit sick.
I’m getting on the GO train shortly to head back into the city. I’ve got my own therapy appointment today with my own shrink. Tomorrow I have some medical appointments. Friday evening I have a school function for my four year old step-daughter. Sunday I have rehearsal with Les Coquettes. Monday morning relationship therapy to try to repair hurt and confusion.
There’s no point in heading back to Hamilton until Monday afternoon, but I must remain away from my home. I imagine it will be harder to be apart from the people I love when they are closer in proximity. At least in Hamilton I have the excuse of distance to ease my loneliness. I can pretend I’m on a little vacation, which is exactly what we’ve told the kids. I’ll explain my absence to them next week with a similar story.
Where would I be without my friends? I’ve been getting so many offers, loving notes, concerned phone calls. They really do make a difference. I’ve always tried to be as nurturing as I can to the people who are close to me. I want them to feel loved and supported by my friendship, and I’ve given my heart to people who I know can reciprocate this. Friendship is something we should all make a point of growing and nurturing. When we have good friends, the lonely times aren’t as lonely. They are like light at the end of the tunnel, and they are a reminder of who I am outside of all of this pain and confusion.
I’ll be at home briefly this evening, and I’m nervous about that. I know my very presence will cause sadness, and that hurts my heart. I truly wish that circumstances weren’t so difficult, but I must remain true to myself, and honest with the people I love, no matter how painful that honesty is. Transparency is essential to take care of each other through this. The truth can hurt so much, but the gesture of honesty from a deep, loving place will build a foundation for transition and growth. At least that is my heart’s great hope.
Today I will write in my diary on the train, spend a lot of time calming my heart and willing it to be open, explore my complicated situation in a safe place, play with my girls, catch up with my dear friend over wine, and sleep as soundly as I can.
I began reading this blog from the very start last night. It’s amusing how my writing style has evolved over these two years. I was also amazed to see how many visitors have been here. The sad irony is that I began writing here from a similar place of displacement and uncertainty. My heart was more open then to possibility and hope, and I’m sure that had something to do with Paris looming on the horizon. Today, there is nothing that is certain on the horizon, except the guarantee that tomorrow will bring something new and different to process and digest.
I am the gypsy wife. I am the girl who simply can’t fit anywhere but within her own heart. I am so close, and so completely far away from the life I’ve always wanted. I am the only thing that I can count on for constant love and care, any time of day or night and in the face of anything that may happen next.
Thought of you and just happened to stumble on your blog again today, even though I haven’t read it in a while–for what it’s worth Catherine, I admire the continued openness of your heart, willingness to share, and strength to persevere through all the confusion that life throws us.