At YUL

At the airport, ready to board another flight. Same day return, to Toronto and back later tonight. Second time in three days.

I'm exhausted. Went to bed at four, but could not really sleep till five, and had to get up an hour or so later. My head is a daze, and I'm feeling slow and heavy.

Strange... I have an exam, yet now and then I experience flashes of doubt and anger. Even as I was studying, images and thoughts appeared before me... How can my best friend, someone who keeps on telling me how much he loves me, "abandon" me at a period when I need someone to confide in most? How could this all happen to me in the past two years when I've had to struggle the most against the odds of life and mum's illness and death? Is it all worth it when you end up with nothing? Is it worth it when you jeopardise years of friendship for... What? I don't think anyone realises how much damage, how traumatic it has been for me. I don't think anyone can see how damaged and paining I am right now. Why am I letting myself be so bothered and so angered by it all? It's all in my mind... All in my mind...

Am I going to write an exam in this state of mind? Am I going to scrape enough points to pass? All I need and want is a pass... Eight more hours and all this will be over. For this time around.

Tears

Hearing news of mum made me cry again...
It's been almost a week since I last did so.
But I could not help it.

Perhaps mum is peering over my shoulders and crying silently too... Crying, because she's seeing me cry...

 Crying because she's watching me sit here in my empty home on my own with tears rolling down my cheeks and typing frantically like a sad, sad madman... Perhaps she is trying to hand me a tissue, trying to hug me, hold me and rest her head against mine, but she cannot.

I suddenly had the urge tonight to call one of mum's best friend, someone who called her every single day for the last four years. Her husband is a spirit medium, and he said mum visited. She looked distraught and upset. "Was it because she  is thinking of you? Was it because she saw you were crying before? I don't know..."

The image of mum seeing me cry is so painful...
 I promised my mum I would be strong, but I am so weak, so tired, so full of pain and longing....

Please give me the strength to be strong again...
Please lift me up, and let me rise above the sadness and tears...

Put down

I've been wanting to go to the shelter for cats with my flatmate, and today I finally had my chance.

There were so many cats, all so beautiful, elegant and innocent looking. My heart melted and went out to them, and I found myself asking why or how people can leave these beautiful creatures just wandering around the streets.

There was one particular cat, a grey one with a signature tuft of white on her (I checked, it's her...) chest. She was particularly friendly and affectionate.

Later at night I told my friend about her and showed him a picture of her, ad he too fell in love with her. He suggested we adopt her, and talked incidentally about cats getting old and the hard choice we may have to face to put a beloved pet who has been in our lives for so long down when it's ill or too old and suffering...

My heart wrenched when I heard those words. My erratic brain made the connection between a pet being put down and a human being being "put down" at that end stage of life. You don't want to prolong the suffering, you don't want the person to suffer unnecessary pain, and in a way you yourself don't want to have unnecessary pain. He described how it's difficult to see a loved one writhing and suffering pain...

I saw mum lie there in the hospital bed, writhing and struggling and fighting for breath... Oh, god, the tears threatened to erupt again... Mum, how you suffered so and I was unable to help.

And the question came back to haunt me, and made the smile I had earlier quickly vanish. Did I "put my mum down"? Did I kill her by pushing her to enter hospice all that time...? Did I kill her?

Did I kill mum...? Did I by increasing the dosage of her morphine, knowing fully well it might hasten her death...? Was it out of compassion and love and concern of her wellbeing and quality of life, or was it selfish and just not wanting me to suffer any more seeing her suffer and in pain...?

Mum, please you forgive me if I put you down before you were ready...
I held your hand and leaned on you, and I imagined it was what you wanted...

But did I put you down?

Perhaps for as long as I live there will be this guilty conscience I will have to live with...

Eve of the funeral

I don't know what to write. Tomorrow is the funeral. I feel like I've not had much rest or time to reflect on what mum's death really means. Been busy with my ex here. And every day there are many phone calls and things to arrange. I feel exhausted, and yet at night I cannot sleep. I am afraid to sleep.

Today, while taking a nap in the afternoon, mum appeared in my dream. She wore one of the dresses I picked out for her. She looked alright, healthy and normal at least. I saw myself standing in front of her. I raised my hands and wanted to heal her. But instead, I broke down and cried. I woke up sobbing. Sobbing like I've not done since that night at Niagara Falls. I cried myself awake. It was so painful that my heart hurt so badly. I felt the tears were unstoppable. My ex lay by my side and tried to console me. But I felt so distant, so far away from everyone, everything. I felt such terrible void that it ached my heart so...

Tomorrow is the funeral. I have all the slideshow pictures prepared. I have a stack of notes written by people that are intended to be for mum. I am supposed to say a little something, have been encouraged to do it. Initially, before we started planning for the whole event, before a series of setbacks and people issues, I felt enthused to say something. But yesterday I suddenly became hesitant. I feel so unprepared...

But what is it that I am unprepared for? Unprepared to see mum's body shoved into the oven? Unprepared to see her lying there again? Unprepared for what...?

Beset by dreams

Took a little nap in the morning, just after talking to my ex for a little while. As always, it feels nice to talk to him, to joke and talk like we've always managed to.

I fell asleep, but was disturbed by a number of dreams, of which i can only remember one, the last one.

I was traveling with my ex (who is my boyfriend in the dream) somewhere most likely in Vancouver or thereabouts. We checked into a hotel room, and I was busy unpacking and getting ready to go out. I prepared a number of little surprises for him, and headed out the door.

I saw him the corridor. He was shocked to see me, shocked and speechless. I turned around, and there was the other boy. I've never me him in real life, and in the dream it was the first time we met. He too looked shocked. it was clear they were prepared to go out together, but were caught in the act by me.

Momentarily I was calm, and extended my hand to introduce myself. My ex just stood there, frozen and speechless. The boy, looking so awkward around the corridor, did not say anything either.

"No need to say anything..." I said, smiling. But deep down inside, my heart was shattering from the deepest feeling betrayal I have ever experienced. I turned and walked away, did not look at my ex. I was hurting so bad, so terribly bad.

"Enjoy yourselves," i said bitterly. And I turned to walk away....

Calling mum

Just lying in bed trying to sleep. Another long day filled with family and friends visiting and paying respects to mum at home. A lot of smiles, and trying to host and 'entertain' people when they come. It's only the second day, but it's tiring to call up people and deliver sad news, and to tell people how it all happened. I know I still have to write down what happened that day in detail last Friday, but I'm too tired to do so. And every time I tell recount that moment when mum passed away, it is as if I relive it again. I can see the scene, feel mum's last breath, feel her hands grow colder. Feel her body stop moving forever...

Just now, my brother picked up the phone and said: "Mama..."

I had my eyes closed, but when I heard those words, I instinctively opened my eyes. Of course, I realised a few sentences later, he was talking to his mother in law. After mum left, my brother still, in a way, has someone to call "mother".

I have none. And this thought made me so sad, and feel so alone...

I know it's very different, and perhaps the comparison is horrible because I do, or at least did, have parents. But I feel like I am an orphan now. There were moments before mum passed away when I imagined what it would be like to be "parentless". And now I know what if feels like...

Empty. Alone. Abandoned. Left to discover the world without someone I can turn to for advice or guidance. All on my own now. Who can I call "mama" now? Who can I phone when I want to talk to someone dear and close, and not feel like I'm imposing myself? Who can I visit and feel welcomed and at home every-time? Who will care for me and love me unconditionally and unquestionably, hold me and comfort me no matter what or when?

Perhaps I have not yet realised what I just lost, but the effects and consequences of losing my remaining parent is dawning on me.

And I'm beginning to hurt, more and more.

Betrayed

I was looking for my ex (in the dream, he was my boyfriend again...). Searching high and low for him in a crowded building. I was smiling because I thought he was playing hide and seek with me.

We were about to go to a party together, so I needed to find him so we can go together. I walked up some stairs and came to a library of sorts. I had a feeling he was in there, so I quietly sneaked in.

I heard his voice, talking softly in French. Soft Sweet talking in French. I followed hid voice and searched through the aisles of books. I saw him, and he saw me. On his face was the expression of being caught red handed. I immediately understood he was calling his ex. He had been lying to me, pretending that things are over with the other guy, when clandestinely they're still in touch. I immediately cried...

I ran out of the library, my heart shattering like never before. He shouted: "I can explain!!"

I jumped off a flight of stairs...

Tears of sadness

I cried, really cried for the first time since I left home. My friends had to hold me and comfort me, but the tears could not stop flowing.

"It's ok, let it out. You'll feel better..." I felt somewhat better after crying and after drinking myself silly. I've never done anything like it, but my friends insisted I go out and drink, let the hurt and pain, sorrow and sense of betrayal be drowned by glasses of sangria. I did not go home. I was scared to go home. I slept at a friend's place, but only for an hour or two before suddenly being 'shocked' awake. And I lay in bed for hours, with thoughts rushing through my mind...

I found out the truth of why my ex was not in NYC this weekend. Whether he did or did not go to much lengths to try and find a way to get there and see me is another matter. But what is telling is that he spent the weekend here with friends and with his boyfriend.

Yes, contrary to what I have believed or wanted to believe, my ex is still together with the guy. Amazing, three months after my ex wrote to me pouring out his feelings for me, and telling me he'd "deal" his his situation, he's still not dealt with it. He wanted to wait for an opportune time, explaining that he did not want to give his boyfriend pressure while he's doing his finals. Valid excuse. But was there no opportune moment over the course o three months? Or was the will to break up simply not there, and my ex was saying to me all these things just to "get to me"? Deep down, only he knows the truth, only he must sleep at night with a conscience. I don't know what to believe anymore when he tells me things.

Most painful of all, as I heard from my friends, all the time I have been away, my ex has been walking around with his boyfriend as if it were the most normal thing. I was replaced, and his boyfriend brought into our circle of friends. Everyone found it bizarre, dishonest, and questioned my ex how he could put on this charade of a relationship, make the other person believe there is something meaningful there, whereas all the time my ex tried and tried to reach me and to declare his true feelings for me. Oh, people know. They it's such a joke what my ex has been up to, such immaturity of trying to hide things and pretend things are alright, when deep down there are so many uncomfortable things unsaid. And they pity the other person, who is much younger and seems to have no idea my ex is playing two people's hearts at the same time and seemingly enjoying it in the mean time.

Nobody can know what my ex is feeling, why he does the things he does. And god knows he is torn and breaking up deep inside. But really a lot of it is his own doing. Letting things drag on and on and not wanting to deal with issues, and with time things get worse, feelings are intensified, and the hurt is much deeper.

My ex and I exchanged a number of text messages. I told him how much it hurts to find out he slept with me, kissed me so passionately (like never before...) and yet he's still with his boyfriend. How could he sleep at night, I asked him. How can he hurt me like this, knowing all difficult, difficult issues of death and illness I've had to face and am still facing surrounding my mum's condition? I said I'm already so vulnerable right now, and finding out how he's not been completely honest with me, and even slept with me the night after he was with another guy, made me feel so sick.

He hit back at me. He said it was tiring how I "rub in death and illness" to make me seem like the victim, to make it seem like I need sympathy. That just wounded me so terribly. Because he really has no idea how it is to be faced with death and illness. I wasn't dropping those words as a soundbite for dramatic effects. He has no idea, nobody has any idea until there're faced with losing someone they lose imminently how pervasive the sadness, depression and suicidal tendencies are. He has no idea how there have been various moments I just feel so tempted to injure myself, cut myself or jump in front of a moving bus. Anything, anything to numb the physical and psychological torment...

He lamented how I've treated him poorly ignoring his attempts to reach me for months. And how I seem to have no sense of self-criticism over my behaviour in the past few months.Where was it all coming from? Perhaps in my lack of self-criticism, I am overseeing what I have done so wrong...
True, I admit it, I avoided contact with all the rest of my friends and ignored my ex especially. I just was so tired I from everything I could not muster the energy to pick up the phone and just call me, just start telling people how I'm doing or what I'm facing. And why did I not want to talk to my ex? Because everytime he would just break down and cry. I was/am already hurting, struggling to cope with new and ever evolving circumstances, trying so hard not to cry, but he cries... And it was just so bizzare to hear him cry, when he has everything he wants: the boy he has been after for almost a year, a job (albeit with strange and somewhat elitist colleagues), and a nice apartment in downtown Toronto. He has his health, his parents seem to be alright... and yet for some reason he is not happy.
He told me in all the time I ignored him and refused to pick up the calls, he became so severely depressed and emotional, to the extent it affects his ability to work.

So it is/was all my fault? Admittedly, my fault to separate and distance myself from him, to isolate and insulate myself from his world so he can go and discover what it is he really wants in life. But is it my fault he harbours such strong emotions for me, is it my fault that he chose to be with someone but then realise, or perhaps has even known all the time, that it would not work out? Is it my fault that I shy away and try to focus on my mum, my priority at this critical juncture of her life, and that I simply do not wish to be distracted? Distracted by his attempts to woo me again, distracted by his declarations of feelings for me and seeing and being told by mutual friends that he is doing completely the opposite of what he says he feels for me. I do not need this, any of this...

And to lament me for ignoring other friends, to speak on their behalf and say how sick my behaviour has been over the past few months? how do you just pick up the phone and start ranting, lamenting, crying even about mum's condition? It's not me, I'm not some weak young kid, I can handle things, I can take it, and there really is no need for me to talk to people if I don't want to. How come everyone of my friends could understand but my ex? How come they could understand I need space and time to deal with mum's situation, but only my ex wanted to constantly be updated on news and developments? I told him in so many e-mails why I don't want to talk to him. How can I keep on bothering him when he's starting a relationship,when he told me frankly to move on?

He lamented me for not being there for when he had such "torturous" few months. And he said I never asked about how he was doing or cared about how depressed he became.

None of the exchanges led to anywhere constructive. one thing ks written, and it is responded with a rebuttal whatever was said or dragged out of the past. It was ugly, creating more tensions, and so destructive...

I was so tired. And I am sure he is so tired too of me, of the same old issues that remain unresolved five months on. Is the problem with me? Is it really with me? I don't know, I really don't know. He throws back things at me, accusing me  of this and that, which is really just very off putting. I thought I was  ready to move on, ready to perhaps talk things through and try to see where we can go from here, but he's still clinging, clinging onto the other boy, refusing to let go, and it seems lamenting me for the great misfortunes of his life over the past few months.

How did we come to this? I thought there was something special there. I thought he truly loved me, at least he said so. But why is it so complicated? It doesn't, shouldn't have to be this way...

Perhaps I should heed the warning others gave me: beware of how manipulative he is, and beware of how soft-hearted I can be...

Broken conversation

I try to tell mum my day, recount the touching things that happened to me today, things that I felt were important and that I wanted and needed to share.

But she is too weak to listen, and it was as if she  my encounter with my professor did not even register with her. "Ok, go to sleep. It's late..." And the phone hung up.

That hurt. Maybe it was not important or meaningful to her or anyone else, but I thought telling her about how my professor reassured me and encouraged me would make her feel at ease. I thought she would be happy for me, and in turn that she would have something to be happy about during the day. But the story seemed to be so quickly dismissed...

I cannot describe why it makes me so sad. So very sad...

Dreaming of the ex

How disturbed I am...

Is my mind just seeking an escape from the nightmarishness of things at home by conjuring images of fantasies with my ex in them? Or am I deep down inside really missing him so much, but have just been suppressing my feelings for so long?

I dreamed I was asking mum (who looked relatively healthy... Anything is better the condition she is in now...) about whether I should move in with my ex (which I guess in the dream would no longer be my ex if we were planning to move in together.) She didn't say much, just something along the lines of "as long as it feels right".

Strangely, I have been having thoughts of living together with my ex for some time, even recently. When I read his email in which he declared clearly his feelings for me, I imagined proposals to get married, my mind produced images of having dinner together at home after we both come back from a long day at work... I imagined holidays in far away places, I imagined sleeping next to him every night for the rest of our lives and how wonderful that would be...

Back to the dream last night... Another scene was mum visiting us in Canada somewhere. And it did not feel awkward at all, but so very natural. My ex (or whatever he is in my dream) was very courteous and welcoming of my mother, and we got along just fine together (sadly, unlike when mum goes to Europe to stay with my brother and my sister-in-law...)

What is wrong with me...? Just sweet words and attempts to woo my heart again have this effect on me? how can I have any assurance any of these dreams can be realised? How can I ever know whether or not my ex is true to me and really wants to have a whole new start between us and get rid of all the ugliness and misunderstandings that have dogged our relationship/friendship for the past several months?

I have no assurances, I only have fantasies and imaginations. And though they are beautiful to indulge in, though they make me temporarily escape the heaviness of life (and possible death) here, they cause me only more confusion, they are a disturbance that distracts me from my priorities in life at the moment...

Unbearable...

...who can see my tears, my invisible, silent tears...?

Christmas day

First few hours of Christmas day, lying next to my ex, who is breathing heavily and falling asleep. Tears, sobbing, crying... Before we used to fall asleep ao beautifully in each others arms, before he said to me there was no other place (other than his own bed) where he slept better than with me...

And yet lying next to me, I seem to have the ability to make he cry, make him sad, remind him of the unhappy things in life, remind him of what could have been but is not. I feel terribly apologetic, terribly guilty, and bitter. How did two beautiful friends,  two lovers, somehow turn so sour and allow a growing distance between them to drive them seemingly further and further apart? How did two people who used to tell each pterosaur everything somehow descend into moments where tree are awkward silences and many things left unsaid...?

Is it me, me because I've been too tenacious, too fearful of losing him and therefore have been trying too hard to hold onto him, but in the process am pushing him, repelling him away?  There is a gap between us though we sleep on the same bed...

A terribly and frightening divide I once thought could and would never surface. Yet it is there... My heart and his heart are drifting apart... We are in different places now, perhaps we have always been in different places, wanting different things, needing something different from one another...  And now that is clearer than ever before, nine days before his departure from this city, and perhaps from my life...