It's been a while...

It's been a while since I was last myself....

Two short weeks, and in awe of how little can happen and yet alter so much.

... I'm changed forever.

Two short weeks ago, I tested positive five times to take-home pregnancy tests. With each package I opened I desperately hoped that in five minutes I wouldn't see that second blue line or pink positive sign appear in that second little window. They were always there.

I took blood and urine tests. The results said I had the hormones.

I even had an ultrasound. And there it was. And I couldn't deny it any longer.

And I wanted to keep it... him.. her...

But I didn't. For reasons I accepted, but didn't agree with...

I know it's going to be okay... life is good to me that way... but I just wish that none of this had ever happened...

I am not happy to have had to make the kind of decision I had to make.

Nobody Knows (words by Oren Lavie)

Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case

Soon she's down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up

And she fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
As she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught
By a thread
She pays for the bread
And she goes...
Nobody knows

Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love

And she fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
As she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught
By a thread
She pays for the bread
And she goes...
Nobody knows

And she fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
Where people are pleasantly strange
And counting the change
And she goes...
Nobody knows.

Sweeping up the pieces

I could not help but notice the hairs and socks left round my apartment. Today became the day to clean: the apartment, the mind, the soul.

Hobbling on one foot as I worked my way slowly around the room, picking up memories of these past weeks, I found that it got easier and easier to let go; to let go of the ideas, the hopes, the wild imaginings of a girl who fell in love.

Funny that today is today.

It is my three month anniversary of my return to Paris. Three months, the same exact amount of time he'll be gone. And so much much has happened since my arrival, and I can not even begin to imagine what lies in store for me ahead... Three months. Such a long time. Such an awesomely long time, just enough time to forget about all of this....

Heart and Ankle: Broken

I'm not sure which pain is worse, or which crack was louder, but I do know that I wish I could numb myself from head to toe.

I wish I could erase my memory. Delete the words. Shake the hell out of the fucking etch-a-sketch of life. I want a new path. I need a new direction.

I am stupid when I am in love. And stupidity always leads to getting hurt. Apparently stupidity and taking risks are not greeted by life in the same manner.

We are seemingly rewarded when we take risks; the rewards of traveling to new places, meeting new people, eating new foods, listening and dancing to new music... you take these things away and your live is enriched with their memories. But you do this with love, and you reward yourself with discovering a new person, touching a new body, falling in love with new eyes, becoming vulnerable again... you take these things away, and you're left empty.

And its horrible, how a person can carve out a space like that in a heart, and be thoughtless enough to then vacate it.

Anger is now following the sadness I felt earlier. Later tonight I'm sure to move onto loneliness. In the morning I'll be groggy, and probably put on some music to try to motivate me a little bit.

I know this pain will pass, and this wound will heal. But what I'm not looking forward to in the end is the scar.

On Being a Lover

I am afraid that I have lost track of myself.

I used to be someone led by her heart; a romantic thru and thru. But skepticism seems to have crept up into my veins.

I am fearful of letting myself loose, knowing how far I can go, how much I can bend, how long I can wait, how patient I can be.

I have fallen in love again, and I hate myself for it.

Where have the days gone where I let love cover my eyes and lead me by my hand? So wary of falling down...

As if I loved everything in this world, except for love itself.