Archive for December, 2016

Little Things

In times like these, you start to notice the little things more and more.

The last time I spent the 27th of December in this country was 2010.



And Barry, if you’re listening, I still love you.


I still can’t find the words to describe what’s happening right now, or how I feel, but I’m going to try anyhow. I need to try and give some sort of form to the fog that has been clouding my brain. And so, I’m just going to lay it out with very little filter.

The past three months have been the most difficult of my life thus far. That much I know for sure. The next three are likely to be more difficult still.

I go back and forth between feeling hopeful and hopeless a lot. When I’m feeling hopeful, the future I’ve envisioned is still right there in front of me, and it feels like everything will eventually go back to the way it was not long ago.

And when I’m feeling hopeless, I just want to crawl into a hole. I think about all the people who I will never speak to again, and how their lives will look like without me there. And I think that maybe they’ll all be better off without all the conflict and confusion currently present in part because I’m in the picture.

There are good reasons to be both hopeful and hopeless, I think. On one hand, in spite of the circumstances, it’s still so wonderful to talk to her. It just feels natural, and right. I’m not a big believer in things being “meant to be”, but this is a relationship that feels as though it is meant to be.

At times like this, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of over-analysing things, but even then there’s not much to make me feel hopeless. If things were hopeless, why would she suggest that I purchase a gift and then save it for later? And why would she give me that ticket at the airport and say it’s for “next time”? I don’t know when “later” or  “next time”is exactly, but that suggests that “later” and “next time” are times that will happen – that it’s a matter of when rather than if.

And yet, if that were true, why are we here?

If there’s love on both sides, and if both sides realize how wonderful and precious this thing is, and if both sides know that this thing works well, has worked well for years, and would likely continue to work well in the future, and if both sides are moved to tears thinking about everything the other person has helped get them through in the past half decade, and if both sides can’t imagine a future without the other, then why is this happening? Why is this necessary? Why did I have to say teary goodbyes to five people this week, knowing I might never see them again? Why has the best part of my life been taken away – even if it is indeed on a temporary basis?

And therein lies the hopelessness – because in spite of the irrationality of all of this, it is happening. The nightmares I had when I struggled with depression around the winter of 2011-2012 are becoming a reality. In the coming months, she will hold his hand like she used to hold mine. She will kiss him like she used to kiss me. And, perhaps, more than that.

I just can’t come to terms with the idea. Will doing any of that help to resolve the confusion? In my head, I just can’t see how it will. Making a decision of this magnitude based on how right it feels to hold someone’s hand, or kiss them, or more than that seems insane to me. I think it will only lead to more confusion, and I think it will only serve to complicate things between us. I was against this three month plan from the beginning because I wasn’t okay with her becoming physically intimate with someone else, and just because I ultimately agreed to the plan hasn’t changed that fact. I have tried to accept it, but I’m not there yet, and if/when I’m forced to come to grips with a fait accompli, I can’t be sure that things could ever quite be the same.

But maybe I’m making a mistake by assuming that it’s inevitable. Maybe she has the same reservations I do, that a line would be crossed which could never be uncrossed. Maybe she sees it as a last resort. Or maybe she sees it as necessary. And if that’s the case, I don’t know what to think. If someone’s doubts are so strong that that becomes necessary, then…

I want to yell and scream that this is a mistake, that we shouldn’t be doing this. But what would that accomplish? Nothing.

For now I’m stuck. It’s unpleasant, but there’s nothing I can really do at all.


And Barry, if you’re listening, I still love you.

No Words

Some days, words fail me.



And Barry, if you’re listening, I still love you.