Last night, he came over and we had a predeparture dinner and get-together. However strange it may be, even after splitting, we are still great friends, and the circumstances surrounding our abrupt end are such that really it is no one particular person's fault.
I am glad that we are both very reasonable and rational people, who can talk things through calmly. Even though there are moments when we break down in tears, we know that we are important in each others lives, and that we care and love one another deeply. I realise this again, as I was doing the dishes and somehow the tears just got ahold of me...
I have been so emotional in the last two days, partly because of mum's state of health, partly because of the breakup, partly because of having to leave my home and zone of comfort, and partly because this friend whose mum is seriously ill wrote to me a few hours earlier telling me how so distraught and hurt and in pain she feels because her mum does not have much longer to live. As the tap water ran over the dishes, washing away the stains and bits of food, I felt I needed cleansing too, and I just sobbed.
I felt so afraid, again, of losing people, losing the creature comforts that I have so grown accustomed to as I have built up in life, that when I realise that I am so vunerable when they start slipping through my fingers.
Mum's vicarious condition, a relationship I had thought and so hoped would last, and the hopes of staying put in Canada for a while to finally get something done so I don't feel utterly useless and like a failure... The tears fell and fell, triggered by fears of the unknown, of the uncertainties. I whimpered and told him how much I treasure our relationship, our love, not really because I wanted to influence his opinion of me, of us, but because he needs to know how I feel, and how much I have attached myself to him and all he has brought to my life. He hugged me, and perhaps hearing my words, he too began to cry, and I felt his warm, warm tears on the back of my shirt...
We both agree and everything happened so quickly, within a span of a couple of days, that it seems so surreal. At one point he told me something that really really touched me, something he had said to me before. I deserve the best, he said, and at this moment he feels he cannot fully give me a hundred percent. Even if it's ninety percent, ninety-nine percent, it's still not giving ne fully... And he feels that is not enough.
I'm not sure whether he will ever feel sure about me, whether he ever feel he can give himself to me without doubts or reaervations. At this point I just have to make do and make peace with the fact that he cares deeply for me, and has cared perhaps ever since we met. Perhaps I am a fool to still hang around him, to be attached to him and the warmth and comfort he brings me, and has brought me for the last two years. But there is such a strong, solid bond between us that cannot easily be severed.
As the evening progressee, he gave me a card, and his favourite teddy bear to take away... A symbol of his burning love and care, he called it. I was so touched when I saw just the grey coat of the little bear Billy. And immediately my tears fell and fell as I sobbed... Out of gratitude, out of being so moved that he would willingly part with his best (animal) friend and trust me with him, and out of also confusion what it all means to take the little bear away when we are no longer a couple... He was adamant I take Billy away, so Billy can take care of me, look after me when he is not physically next to me. As always, our evening together ended with long talks in bed, and long passionate embraces, and intimacy.
He insisted in going to the airport with me, even though we had both slept only three, four hours. We held one another's hand in the taxi there, and just before seeing me off, we sat on a bench away from the crowd, and listened to music. I played and sang along to an all time favorite of mine...
"...so what happens now?
-Another suitcase in another hall...
... So what happens now?
- Take your picture off another wall...
Where am I going to?
- you'll get by you always have before...
Where am I going to?
- don't ask any more..."
I used to listen to this song over and over again as a teenager, for it describes well my loneliness soul, my wandering heart and my insecurities at being somewhat abandoned and left to fend for myself since a young age. At this moment in my life, flying back and forth, and having just emerged from a relationship which brought me so much happiness and warmth, the words to that song resonate deeply in my heart.
My flight was delayed for an hour, and he kept on calling me to make sure I was alright and concerned about making my flight connections in Calgary and in Narita. This is how he is, how he cares, whether in his role as friend or lover, he does care about my well-being. And that is beautiful.
As I was about to board, I spoke to mum and said I'm be home in a day. She sounded weak the moment she picked up the phone, and it was because she had just returned from another chemotherapy session, while at the same time did a radiotherapy treatment. She sounded weak, and at that point I told myself I must be strong. At that point I realise what my main purpose was, why I was at the airport and about to board the plane. To give mum the strength and hope she needs, to care and give her the love she deserves, and to let her know that despite all the strenuous treatments, her sores and pains, I am there by her side, and I hope to take her with me back to Canada when she feels well enough.
I boarded the plane, with Billy smiling and sitting there in my bag. I silently wished goodbye and happiness to Montreal, to all the trees, to all the people, to my cat, to my friend, and hoped that I would return soon.
As uncertain as I felt and have been feeling over the last couple of days, there was a moment of clarity, and I was not sad or happiness. I just was, and that is a tranquil state of mind and being...
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