I'm living communally in North Providence. I work for Providence Public Schools. I have two housemates: a sweet female Asian PhD student who is studying environmental science, and a white guy who lives downstairs. The girl has the room across from mine on the second floor. Both our rooms have solar tubes installed in the ceiling that go straight up through the roof. I have a constant beam of sunlight shooting down in the center of my bedroom. Vitamin D awesomeness.
The guy downstairs is 26, works at a nearby college, and is super friendly and health-conscious. I caught him reading the bible the other day and we had a good talk. I told him I think this will be a good year. I'm finally making friends who share some of my same interests.
A nice man in Tupper Lake gave me a mac computer last month. It has Garage Band software on it, so I'll be able to record songs without the help of Geoff or a record studio for the first time ever.
I played my keyboard last night and learned two songs: Silver Springs and Southern Accent. I played them for hours, and woke up early this morning to play some more.
The guy downstairs also plays guitar and writes songs. He offered to teach me some guitar chords (I have an acoustic Guinness-branded Fender that's been sitting in its case for about 6 years since I won it at an open-mic contest in 2008.)
I turned 33 last month. I have 2 more years before my ovaries start to melt. Hopefully I'll meet a nice guy I can procreate with before then. I think I'm ready to start dating again. It's sad though. Especially when my ex moved on so easily. He's very pragmatic. He tells me he couldn't make me happy, and I should simply find someone who does. What he doesn't realize is that he did make me happy. So happy in fact that it drove me crazy to watch him sabotage his spiritual and physical health, whilst taking mine along for the ride. I secretly hope he wakes up someday, an old lonely man, fat, with liver failure and a couple divorces under his belt, and contemplates how much better growing old might have been, spent with someone by his side who truly adored him, and wanted only for his best, as opposed to a lifetime filled with quotidian details meant only to pass our achingly human existence one day at a time. The distractions may hide the pain now, but the regrets will come later. My intentions of writing a book or producing a great music album or having children may never pan out. But at least I loved someone with my whole heart once. At least I took the time to walk through my grief and feel some pain and grow from it, rather than distract myself with temporal fixes. I'll be better in the long run. It's sad I don't have a partner to share my journey and insights with anymore. The essence of "me" is just no match for alcohol and card games. It's a hard pill to swallow. But I think my experience of loss has strengthened my spirit somewhat.
I wrote a poem in honor of this season of newness:
Life is hard
It starts with birth pangs
Then kids grow up
and people change
Along the way
there's bumps in the road
And it's often too hot
or way too cold
Earthly efforts
down the drain
There's ice and mud
and wind and rain
Dogs die
Cars break
Sickness strikes
Hearts ache
Loved ones leave
dreams fade away
into the clouds
beyond the gray
I lost myself
in the here and now
only to find
that if I allow
hope for a new life
to guide my beliefs
there might be a purpose
to all this grief
I have faith
in the life to come
One better than this
very painful one
As the bible says
in 2 Corinthians 4:18
Eternal things
are things unseen
Transient spectacles pass away
I looked at my life
differently today
Every battle I've lost
Is one I have won
since I walked through the pain
and learned a lesson
I'll take these lessons
with me when I die
No tear will be wasted
No unanswered why
No unfinished work
No unpublished song
No undeserved
or un-righted wrong
will haunt me in the life to come
I'll take the lessons
The half-written songs
The partial credit
It all comes along
None of my efforts
will be spent in vain
My friend told me Christians don't cry
They rain
My tears in the earth
My thoughts as I look
out on the sky
as though reading a book
A story of my own life
comes with me when I leave
Even those things
not written down
for everyone to see
These are the most special things
I'll take with me.
