It's sickening to discover you've been lied to. Really sickening, my stomach is churning terribly. Trust. Hope. Dreams. Plans. Broken. I put so much faith in the person, took everything that was said as

true and honest, especially words spoken with streaming tears...

Is it all a show? All drama and pain for nothing? 

My fingers are trembling, my head is dizzy. 

Fool, lying in someone's embrace again. 

It's not the same. I do not feel comfortable anymore. 

He gave you a pillow to sleep on on the sofa. What else is clearer? 

I'm just someone who imagines and clings onto hope still. 

I need to break away, to stop the alluring scent, touch and soft words and comforts of the past prevent me from moving on. Otherwise one day, I will be the only person left all alone at the end of the day. All alone. And the prospect p that is devastating loneliness and remorse. 

This could be a whole new beginning, a fresh place, a new stand. It's wonderful, the view is amazing and inspiring, and I doubt will ever grow bland looking at trains and planes and the city below...

I hid in the closet and closed my eyes. Is it too much to imagine being held and kissed...? 

Pants

You don't realise what you had till its gone.

I was cleaning, finally after so many weeks, and as I got my pile of clothes something fell on the floor 

Pair of pants belonging to my beloved teddy bear...

He left the house that day with only his top, not his pants. It's so strange, and so sad to see just the clothing and not the person (or in this case, bear...)

It's really like the person left and all that is left behind are the items clothing and memories and places we have been together, pictures that have been taken. 

And last night I remembered I made an item of clothing for the bear once, a special item of clothing that I would only put on him when a day comes. It's a red hoodie, with on the front a bear paw and "CANADA" (the paw replaces the maple leaf...) . It's a  hoodie that my bear's bestest pal (and I believe soul mate and life lover...) also has. I had these two tailor made, one for my bear, one for my ex's bear. The other bear got his, on the day he officially became Canadian. My bear is still waiting to become Canadian. And most likely he never will get the chance to wear what I made him...

I just hope he is alright, that he is warm and safe and that someone is taking care of him and loving him. Maybe I didn't care about him enough, so he is no longer  with me... Maybe I didn't pet or hug him enough, despite the fact he went with me everywhere and sat by my pillow almost everyday... 

I hope he is loved now, and well. I hope he doesn't have cold paws.

Coping

"Sometimes the feelings inside me get dirty like dirt, and I like to clean things. Pretend the dirt is the feelings. ... That is called coping." Susanne,   OINB

Search continues

I was so exhausted at work today, but there is so much to do, and more to be done. I sat down and got up only hours later in time for lunch with someone who asked me to edit his work for him and provide him with feedback. 

And I noticed I was passionate. It was a topic I knew well. International law. Not that I'm an expert or trained in it. But for two years, and for two theses, I poured over the cases and sources of international  law with vigour. And over lunch, we exchanged views on it.

After the long meeting I headed to the police station. I was hesitant at first, reluctant because at the end of the day , what did I lose? A bear. A teddy bear! I felt embarrassed as I walked in.

The kind police man was on the phone so I waited a bit. Someone saw another person fall and called to report it. I could not hear what was said but I could see on the policeman's expression he wasn't too enthused. 

When It was my turn, I described my "problem". I hesitated greatly whether to speak French, as its become rusty I feel. But out of respect, I did.

And I was surprised how he understood me well and that I understood him. I lost a bear, I said. At a charity event yesterday. He nodded and looked at me sympathetically.  He asked what was significant about the bear, and I said my mum gave him tot me. And that she died. 

He said he understood. And he quickly got on the case. First he called his colleagues at another bureau, then he walked around the bureau and searched through the lost and found. He said it may be likely someone found it and took him home. At the same time he took down my number and contact details.

"I understand," he said. "There's a sentimental value. I fully understand." 

I was so touched I had tears in my eyes. I was so worried to be scoffed at, and I admitted to him I know this is nothin too serious or important. But at least he showed genuine concern and understanding. And sometimes that is all you need to feel comforted and touched.

Reality check

Reality check: nobody can ever understand what or how you really feel.

That is all there is to say.

Crude but true. 

“I think that when you have a connection with someone, it never really goes away. You snap back to being important for each other because you still are.”

A bear...

It's a bear. A freaking bear...

But it's what the bear represents. 

That hug and kiss my mum gave the bear  the day she bought it for me on Christmas Day 2010. Those many moments the bear spent by her bed side, by my bed side, at her death bed. He was there. He lived and went through it all, with mum, with me, with my family. 

A stuffed animal he may be, and you can scoff at me at grown man nearing thirty clinging onto an inaminate creature of comfort and made of cotton and thread. But go through the ordeal of fightin against cancer, experience the pain of slowly  losing someone, then you will understand how every little thing, even inanimate little thing that cannot talk or laugh or cry or hug you back, is a symbol of hope, is a piece of a memory of a loved one you wish to preserve and hold forever and forever.

But there is no forever, is there? There is loss, and we will all lose our most beloved and dear possessions and loved ones. Nothing is ever mine, nothing is ever ours. They just come to this world and spend time with us temporarily, and then they must part with us. Or we must part with them...

Home alone

Home after s frantic search around this morning's running course at the olympic park.

I come into my bedroom and there I notice the emptiness. The loss is compounded. The memories multiply.

The bear who meant everything to me, who was the embodiment of my mother. He was there when she passed. He was held by her. He was there the day mum bought it for me and told me to take care of him because he would keep me company even after mum is no longer around. He was there and keeping me safe from harm in India, on the long bike ride to conquer cancer and in my many adventures since mum left...

But he is no more.
There is only this silence. This deadly and dark silence and emptiness. I have lost it all. I have lost mum,s teddy bear.

It is horrendously devastating to my mind and to my psyche.

I am so sorry mum... I am so sorry.

Lost

Nothing is going right. 

I'm completely devastated.

Took the teddy bear my mum gave me before she passed to attend a cancer walk. 

At the finish line I turned around to take a picture of him. He was gone.

Gone.

I'm completely devastated 

Another loss.

Horrible, horrible loss. I can't bare to take losses. Not after all I've gone through and this being such a special gift from Mum...

I'm so sorry mum... i'm so sorry. 

October 6th

October 6th 2013. 

Yesterday was such a long and exhausting day, had to go to the office to help with an event to welcome new students into the class. It was nice seeing  new faces, hearing stories about where people come from and such. They seem like an enthusiastic bunch, fresh and eager (and somewhat nervous too) to start their new studies.

The event lasted over six hours, and I was so drained afterwards. I went home, and as always after long social gatherings felt so beaten, so down...

reflections and memories flooded back. Five years ago, I too was so fresh and excited about starting a new life and studies here. I remember I was so curious about meeting new people, and looked around for a potential someone...

And I saw him. Someone who I'd get to know, grow with, love and cry over. Who would have known what would develop between us? Who would have known what would become of us? And now, after all those beautiful memories, trips together, promises and hurt, arguments and misunderstandings, where are we now? Sometimes I really think I am the only person who still remembers, who still reminisces and cries and longs. Does he still...? I do not know. And with time that question becomes less and less relevant. With time the memories will fade even more, and those feelings that were once so fresh, so real, so able to touch our hearts fade and eventually die.

That was five years ago. I was fresh-faced, new and excited. And now I am just tired, so darned tired and impatient. So disturbed by the fact that within these five years I've lost both my parents and that I am left on this world more or less on my own to figure out things and to fight loneliness and the haunting feeling of loss.

How difficult it is to live the life of someone who has a hard time remembering, who on special dates remembers. I wish often I could just shut it away, shut away all the memories and forget special days. And there's only one way I know I can forever forget. Only one way.

October 6th. The annual Breast Cancer Run. Last year this time, I was with my ex, and we got up early after a long night of talking in the same bed... We took part in the walk together, had all these special animal friends with us as we walked in solidarity with breast cancer heroes, survivors, friends and family. It was such a beautiful day. Memories of mum were still fresh in my head. Memories of the funeral and her death still so fresh and how fragile I was then. I went to visit the ex so full of hope, so full of longing to be with someone whom I could lean on. But despite the beautiful way, I felt so turned away. Things had changed. We have changed. I have changed. I remember leaving my ex that weekend feeling rejected and cryin g on the plane journey home. I know what I have lost, what Has been destroyed, perhaps by me and my impatience and bitter jealousy and fear of loss. I know after all that began five years ago, there is no way we could ever be the same again. And the pain is in the remembering. The pain is in the reminders of all the things I have still lying around, in the places we have been to together, in the hopes and memories we have together once created. 

Now I'm heading to the cancer walk by myself. Why people I know, the friends I have, have no interest in joining, I cannot understand. Battling loneliness and the anxiety of being alone in a big crowd. I want to do this, even though I had to drag myself out of bed and struggled hard to leave the house. 

Why am I running?

 For hope.