Seven Months of Being Away

In the last couple of months, every post that I’ve written on this blog has started with an apology as to why I haven’t been writing. A sort of consolation to no one but myself that if I can give a valid reason, I can escape from the fact that writing is no longer the main focus of my life, that I don’t live through words any more and that my time is not mine to spare.

Already this post is weighing down on me. I don’t check my stats anymore. I don’t log in to read other bloggers’ posts. I just…don’t.

If there’s a valid explanation as to why this has happened, I will find out as I write. Maybe some things never change – I still need to write to understand, to draw semblance and to make sense.


May was the month of new beginnings. I can see in retrospect that a lot happened in May and I just coasted through it all. I didn’t stop to appreciate or be grateful. I was glad to have a routine. I started my first real job and got an office and a phone and a name plate. But then I needed more because I wasn’t satisfied.


June brought with it a whole new change and my beloved’s presence every day when I woke up. This domestic bliss came with a new wind and evened the odds in my life. I begin to thrive on my time at home with my person but I hated everything else I was expected to do outside of that. I found myself drowning under expectations of a job that back then I could see no way of getting better at. For the first time in my life, I felt like I took on something that I was going to fail at miserably and there was nothing I could do to succeed. Tears were spilled almost every other day. Arguments spewed because I couldn’t accept that I made the wrong choice after being forewarned. The only part of June that made me feel any sense of self worth was that I was making money now and I could afford things.


Come July I started doing what I do best when things don’t go my way, I run. I explored other avenues and tried to destroy every thing that I had built in the last couple of months. I decided to throw away things that were in my lap, that I had committed to, in order to find a workplace that didn’t drive me raven mad. July was a month of absolute indecision. I tried writing in July but abandoned it because nothing was close to normal and I had no time to reflect.


Fall came around and there seemed to be hope. I reached a point of comfort at my job that I didn’t think was attainable. The feeling of composure with my surroundings set in. I felt like I was going to be okay. Right around this time, my world began settling into a routine that try as I could I couldn’t shake. There was no way to sit down write. I watched a Drake Doremus movie I waited so long for, just so it would move me to write. I started and stopped. The resistance was too strong.


With September, came responsibility. It dawned on me that I am where I am and this is the best I could do with what I was given. September brought with it a sweeping calm that I needed. I could sleep at night. I could wake up and face the day. Things started to look up in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I was…happy. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that happiness does not stir me to write. I even stopped making feeble attempts to write. Nothing mattered, I was happy and I needed it to last.


That feeling of contentment carried forward into October. Nothing special happened in October – and that’s how I like it. My person and I began to follow a pattern that made a lot of sense. Our time together was now limited and therefore precious. We could discuss our days, bounce ideas off of each other, make dinner and relax. This was exactly how I envisioned our life. I couldn’t ask for more. A spell was cast on us and I couldn’t dare to break it. I also made my first big purchase in October and for the life of me I couldn’t justify it even though if you knew what it was you would say it was absolutely justified. I hate spending money.


November was a big highlight of this year. I traced my way back to my roots. While it was overwhelming and a tad bit nerve wracking at the same time, it was much needed. I have two lives and I have to make every effort to keep them parallel to each other. I realized that people love you regardless of how far you are from them or how little you’ve given to them in return or how feeble an attempt you’ve made to keep in contact. I was touched. It broke my heart to leave. I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting any of those emotions at all. It took me a while to come back even though I was already here.


My favourite time of the year has rolled around and here I am, snuggled in an over-sized sweater, with my cup of coffee and snow that has half covered my windows. I hear the clock ticking and I must be on my way soon. I woke up today feeling like I did when the urge to write would make me drop everything else I had on hand. I forgot how I loved that feeling. December is keeping me on my toes – in a good way. We have a tree and our first ornament and I don’t know how life together gets any better than this. I really don’t.

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