Dream of mum and dad

Such a horrible, horrible dream. I dreamt I was home (my own home...) and was trying to do some studying. Suddenly emotions rose from nowhere and I began to sob...

The sobbing and crying continued endlessly. I could not stop crying. There were all these people around I know, relatives, some acquaintances, and they were all lost as what to so. I cried so loud and so hard they gathered around me but could do nothing...

Images of mum and dad surfaced one by one. I missed them terribly. Terribly, terribly... I saw myself holding onto their hands and bodies as they slowly stopped breathing... I saw myself rubbing my face against theirs... I saw myself whispering soft words into their ears trying to placate them at that final moment of life before life escaped  their bodies... I heard that death rasping sound coming from the backs of their throats... I heard death, saw death coming, and was inconsolable...

I broke down and collapsed onto the ground crying. So intense were the emotions. So powerful and overwhelming. The tears were endless, the sounds of pain and mourning coming out of me harrowing and haunting...

I felt myself crying as I stirred from the sleep... 

Picture of a thousand words

I sat on the lakeshore at dawn, and next to me were my two traveling companions. Taiddy, a bear mum gave me a year or so before she passed... Billy, a bear my ex insists I must have with me to act as my "bodyguard". 

They are the closest connection I have to the people I care about most in this world. One is gone, physically gone and can I see her or hear her again. The other is gone too, in many ways, and no longer can I be or act like the natural and completely open person I was before with him. 

I asked a picture to be taken of me sitting there on the lakeshore. surrounded by so much beauty, and I have two inanimate bears with whom I can share my thoughts and feelings. 

The green-blue water was so still, so tranquil. I watched the mountains and snowcaped cliff faces in the distance. Moments earlier, I was on the lake. I could still feel the ripple effects and rocking motions of the canoe.

Things change, sceneries and people change. And I must with time.

Return to Lake Louise

I promised mum I would take her back here. Even though she is only here in spirit, only in the form of a pouch left over from her cremation, I know she is here with me... 

Two years ago, she sat in the front as I peddled. We drifted on the lake and admired the sun rise. I saw her smile, heard her laugh. It was the most joyous few moments and experience of my life (to date...)

I can see her smile still when I close my eyes. And in these mountains, behind those lush evergreens, beneath the green blue water is the echo of her laughter, the shadows of her presence...

What beautiful bond we still share, a bond nothing and noone can ever sunder.

Return to Lake Louise

This is for you mum...

Thank you for making such beautiful memories with me two years ago.

http://alternativeformosa.blogspot.ca/2011_06_19_archive.html

Thank you for being there in the formative years of my life.

This is for you.

Operation Serenity

Traveling to the "Middle Land" with mum in my backpack...

Biking to support a cancer charity... 

Traveling home to pay respects to my late mother... 

Taking the law exams that would eventually lead to the bar... 

And now, a journey through the Rockies to retrace footsteps I have taken with mum, and soon canoeing on Lake Louise with mum's "remains"...

All these steps are part of what I call Operation Serenity, a long term mission to find and rediscover life after death, to find treasure the beauties of the world after experiencing and seeing so many terrible and painful things. Most things I have already done and can be proud of. I can perhaps be most proud of the fact that one year on, I am stronger and a bit "better" than before. But dear god what a terribly lonely journey it has been...

Is it too much to expect others to share in my joy as I slowly, slowly overcome grief? Is it too much to ask that others try and understand and show some compassion instead of shunning me when I am down and sad? Now, surrounded by the desolate beauty of the mountains and nature all around me, I feel that deep deep emptiness and those painful thoughts: I could disappear right here, right now, and nobody would miss me. Nobody would ever know I existed. Nobody would ever know what I did, what I once offered to those dearest to my heart... Nature has this magical way of making you feel so small and insignificant. Nature has a way of reminding you how alone you are in this world.

I daydreamed that on this very journey through the Rockies as I embark on this very meaningful trip, someone would be by my side. But it was not meant to be. 

We come to this earth alone, we travel alone, and we will die alone. In between, when you are fortunate to find that soul mate and dear lover, you may enjoy the warmth of love and companionship for a little while. But when it comes to the most personal connection with life and death, when it comes to the spiritual journey of healing and rediscovering yourself, you are on your own. 

At YYC

Last night, I accompanied a friend's mother to Vancouver. It was exciting in a sense to travel with her, especially as she doesn't enjoy going out much. But she and her daughter have been very kind to me, almost as soon as I moved to Canada almost five years ago. 

My friend moved to vancouver for work back in June, and I promised to help her move some (or much!)  of her  belongings whenever I go see her. Given that I have status with the airline, I can carry three suitcases of up to 32kg each. That's a lot of things. True to my word, I took three large suitcases and her mum with me last night, and secretly without the auntie knowing, switched seats with her so she could sit in business class (I got a free upgrade...). She was so happy when she got off the plane, and said she was so stuffed with good food and lounged in comfort. 

Actually, Flying to Vancouver last night was a bit of a detour for less than twelve hours later, I'm now in Calgary, about to embark on a clandestine but very meaningful mission. My friend felt bad I flew out of my way to bring her her belongings (and mum...) But a promise is a promise, right? Anyway I can help, I try to. And what more beautiful thing is there to help reunite a family, for if I didn't  take her mum, it's highly unlikely the auntie would travel by herself...

So what am I doing here in Alberta? Retracing my own footsteps, ones I have made two years with my own dear mum. This trip to return to the Rockies has been planned for over a year. And I am beginning to feel the emotions come. 

To think, two years ago, I sat with her on a bus as we traversed the beautiful Albertan landscape.... To think, two years ago, I could see her, touch her, put my head on her shoulder, hear her voice (and snoring...), catch her smile at me and feel her hand grab my arms when we walked side by side...

Now she is gone, long gone it feels like. It was as if my childhood, my life with a mother in it, and all those journeys we took together (including one I am about to retrace now...) are all a dream. A sweet, loving, tender and motherly dream that leaves you longing, and leaves you aching inside. 

Cancer and life

Recall

We all have our version of events, do we not? Our own perspective of how things happened, why things happened, why we did or said (or did not do or say...) what we did or said. 

Do we all not feel we are victims of circumstance? Do we not all feel like we had not choice but were forced, against our wills, cajoled or even blackmailed into doing something that perhaps, when we look back now, make us feel regret and cry? 

Is it self conceited to stay stuck to my own view of things? Do I really never want to listen? And how well do others listen or want to listen? These are questions that will continue to ask themselves as I go on in life. 

The past happened. The past cannot be changed. Things are the way things are. Things have moved on. Things and people have changed. Relationships severed and made. Tears have been shed, pain has been done and felt again and again. 

Memories of my mother's funeral, the final farewell, has forever been etched with memories of someone i love and care about so deeply who came and stayed by me and gave me hopes and promises... Memories of those tumultuous days after mum left are in my eyes inseparable from memories of crying sessions and wrestling with love and promises of a relationship. from the farewell at the funeral to seeing and being with my ex, from the day mum died in my arms to the moment I was in my ex's arms, nothing is separable, everything jumbled mess I was tryin to figure out and am still trying to unravel. 

Can nobody but me see that? Does any of that not matter at all? All I want is some recognition that what I went through mattered, some recognition that how I went through it all was so brave and so amazing and even more amazing that I an still standing (though struggling a little...)

Instead, in the days of mourning and grief that followed, I've met so much lack of recognition and respect for my feelings and experiences that it sickens me and dislluisons me... 

You can move forward, or you can keep on hurting. 

You can believe you have been so wronged. You can believe everyone is out to get you, to abuse your vulnerabilities and trust. certainly, this belief is deep because of past and extremely traumatic experiences of abuses of trust, confidence and my body... 

But what is the point of dwelling

Have I not taken care of someone till the very end and gritted my teeth so bravely through all the horrific experiences of battling for life against illness and death? Why does it frustrate me so when people  cannot see what I have gone through, do not recognise or do not remember what it is I have gone through? 

But I will suffer. 

Suffer and suffer while other people look at me with such judgmental eyes and wonder what is wrong with me... Have I not suffered enough? Do I not wish to be free from pain and hurt, perceptions of deceit and betrayal? Do I not long for, deserve love and respect? I do. I do. Do I not need it, now more than ever, the love and devotion of another human being? I do. I do.

Having my parents die in my arms changed me. Any experience of that magnitude or significance will change you forever. It teaches you the value of life, the fragility of life, and the true meaning of love. It is not fleeting or fun. It is devotion and compassion, understanding and openness, sharing and being there through till the very end. It is a commitment that can overlook the most revolting smells, the most sickening sights of the body and its functions and still allow you to see the person for who s-/he is... The person you love, the person you care about and will continue to care about because a-/he means more to you than anything in the world. That is love. True love in the purest and simplest form. True love that's the  most difficult to be found and most difficult to keep because it is so rare, so  very fragile.

Couple

Farewell

He left in tears and left me in tears. Rushing to the airport to return to his city. I would have gone with him, send him off as I have done so many times. But it is not meant to be. 

I poured out my heart again, how much I cannot understand what is happening between us. What are we to one another? Why does he call everyday almost still? Why is he still with someone else? I trembled as I tried to say how much all these questions been affecting me, bothering me, traumatising me even in my sleep. It's not fair, I said, not fair how it all happened at the same time as when I was losing my mum. But is anything fair in life? What nonsense am I blurting out? 

Emotional blackmail he called my attempts to explain my feelings toward it all. He loves me too much it hurts too much, loves me more than anyone else. 

And that is why we cannot be together. 

Not now, not ever? 

He needed to rush. We were crying on my balcony and the stairs leading to my place. I cried because again I feel I have alienated him and pushed him away even further with my harsh words and my deepest feelings. It really is not that I am angry at him... I just cannot understand how we once were so close and became so distant. I just want a reason why I am not able to love him, care for him, touch him and kiss him the way I used to be able to when he tells me he loves me more than anyone in the world. 

I hurt him too much. I stabbed him by trying to meddle in his love life, maybe I blackmail him like he says I do without even realising it... 

He turned to leave, I begged him to stay. One should never beg, it demeans you, lowers you and your self esteem. But I was deperate. I care too much, love too much, am perhaps blinded by my emotions to think of my own well being or self esteem. I just wanted to see him and say goodbye properly, just wanted us not to part on such angry notes an poor terms. He is taking a plane, ill be taking a plane tomorrow. Who knows what will happen. Life is too difficult at times already to live with unnecessary regrets.

"I miss you..." I hugged him tightly and sobbed and whimpered on his shoulder. He too sobbed and cried in broad day light in front of my house. He needed to go. This conversation came too late. We had moments we could have talked or spent time together alone. But like always whenever he visits here, I feel like he's so preoccupied with engagements, feel like I am intruding and taking time someone else's lover away. It's not pleasant to be the clandestine lover on the side who must watch and bear the pain of seeing object of your object and love, once the rock of your love, be with another person. It is the most bitter and painful medicine to swallow, one I concocted myself in part, and one concocted by circumstances of my life over the past few years.

We hugged again. He slowly walked away, turning back to wave and mouth goodbye. Another good bye, another prolonged and painful drama in the relationship between two people who cannot let go of one another, yet cannot be with one another either. Sometimes it takes resolve, determination, and circumstances to bring people together again. Sometimes once gone, never to return. 

He turned the corner and left. I stood, with tears running down my face,  and watched the corner for a while hoping to see his figure, his face, his person again. 

And he was gone. 

Sleeplessness

I couldn't sleep last night... Suddenly woke up at half past five after hours I twisting and turning around in bed. It's a beautiful day, a beautiful beautiful day. I saw the dawn sun rise and sky brighten outside my window...

I cannot sleep, and my head is a mess. So many thoughts, so many regrets and anxieties and fears. Stress is mounting, exams are looming. I feel directionless, and feel my life lacks meaning or purpose. Floating again. Lost and longing for company, longing for affection and care.

Can't Be Moved

"Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me 
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be..."

Gone. Forever gone. 

  

Mum calling

I was doing so cleaning and opened a bag I have not seen or opened for some time. I opened it, and inside was a tape.

I played it, and for a few moments there was just blank. Then suddenly, the familiar sound. The motherly sound. The way my name used to be called by my own mother. Unmistakable. Much missed. Painful.

"Weiwei..."

I burst out in tears. It was mum... Mum recorded a message for me. My mum's voice before she died... Voice from beyond the grave... Heart wrenching. Painful... 

just give me a reason...

Why does almost every song they play at this event speak to me and make me cry...?

It's depressing...

A new day?

The music touched my heart and I cried. I cried in the middle of a joyous, fun festival as part of the city's gay pride. I could not contain my tears.

Let the rain come down
And wash away my tears
Let it fill my soul
And drown my fears
Let it shatter the walls

The songs that played spoke to my heart. Maybe I am too sensitive, maybe my feelings are too raw. I look around and see all these couples holding hands, kissing, swooning in love. All these couples together. And just made me feel all the more alone.

Earlier, we had a pre-event party, and we all gathered at someone's house and all brought food to share. I went for a little while, and at the earliest opportunity left. 

Why did I have to leave a social gathering quickly and early? I Cannot play into the hypocrisy of everything in life being fine and dandy because of the smile on my face. I simply cannot stand how behind the person, when the person is away, people make fun of him, and yet at a party pretend as if they're all best buddies. How shallow, how pretentious... It's so sad...

A friend asked me where I was last year, exactly a year ago, during the biggest pride event of the year. I hesitated a moment, didn't know what or how to answer. Of course other people may have forgotten. And I am trying to forget. But the question threw me off track and made me remember again.

I was waiting for so long
For a miracle to come
Everyone told me to be strong
Hold on and don't shed a tear

I was home. In Taiwan. Two weeks after mum was cremated. Three weeks after the terrible rupture with my Ex, who not so long ago told me all the things I wanted to hear, needed to hear, to keep the faith, to keep on dreaming and hoping. I was in a terribly numb state of mind. I still am. 

And who is suffering most? The one who remembers. The one who cannot forget, the one who cannot let go. The one who cannot pretend or hide tears, pain or sadness, and as a result is sidelined in a world circling around fun and thrills and forgetting all that bothers and disturbs us. 

Where it was dark now there's is light
Where there was pain, now there's joy
Where there was weakness, i found my strength
All in the eyes of a boy

"A new day has come..."

I long for that day. I so do.

Handyman

For a week or so, I have been helping  friend move and settle down in his new home. Some days, we start early in the day, sevenish he comes to pick me up to work a few hours before heading to work. Then after work, we would drive to furniture stores in search of bargains and exploring Ikea for value and quality pieces of furniture to fill up his space. I don't think I've assembled as many pieces of furniture in as short amount of time, not even for myself.

It's really been exhausting, and at night I collapse into bed, relieved to be able to sleep (sometimes to be woken up by my phone vibrating...) But in some ways, I'm happy to be helping a friend, even if it means completely taking away valuable study time for my impending exams... It's nice to build something, to look around furniture stores and dream of my dream home, dream of my dream kitchen and a lovely, cosy bedroom where I would fall asleep with my partner (still MIA, or rather, to be located...)  The entire experience of helping my friend really has driven me to want to settle down and buy a house on my own....


I so wish to be able to build a home, to design minute details of my own little places in the world and to find a sense of belonging. The last time I did that was back in 2009, with the help of my ex and best friend. What joy we had, what beautiful memories of painting and scrubbing, of building furniture and building a "home" together... Something to cherish for ever. Something to look forward to always...

 

Dream

I saw myself in a car. I heard myself howl and sob. Where was I going? The car seemed to be going very fast. 

I howled some more, whimpered like a wounded dog. I could just make out the sound I was making "Mum... Mum..." 

In front of the car, in the driver seat was dad...

Breakdown...

How did I just spend over an hour on the phone to my ex? How did my confidence become so shattered and how did I feel so low about myself? I want to feel good about myself, feel like I am capable of doing something, like I am worthy of life and living...

But I feel so weak and worthless, so painfully worthless.
Why? Shaking like a leaf...
It's the past again, isn't it? It's the terrible things compounded with all that death and loss in the past year coming to haunt me and causing me to struggle again?

And just when I thought I was better... Just when I thought I was getting better.

Death of grandma...

 Grandma (dad's mum...) was probably the kindness and most selfless person I knew for the longest time growing up. I spent so many summers with her, sitting by her side while she looked out the front door and welcomed passerby into her home for a drink on a hot day... I spent so many hours with her, sitting by her side at the hospital while she underwent dialysis...

I saw her in my dream just now, at her deathbed. Though I wasn't actually there (my mum was... She rushed back to Taiwan the very next morning after receiving a phone call late at night... I remember it was on a Swiss Air Asia flight, at the time an MD-11... 

In the dream we (my mum and auntie) clambered up the stairs at my auntie's place to get to the third floor bedroom (where dad and I used to stay whenever we visited his side of the family in his hometown...) to see her, for one last look. She's looked so thin, and was in great discomfort and pain (she died of liver disease...)

I cried and shed so many tears as I rushed up the stairs... I tried hard not to howl, not to many any noises while crying... So vivid the dream... So real, too real...

I woke up crying.

Parentless

"They left already..." I said. My colleague, with whom I had a work lunch today,did not really understand. 

"They're no longer around..." His faced turned and immediately there was an outpouring of sympathy from him, which almost triggered an overflow of tears from me. Moments like this make me wish I could just reach for the phone and call someone. Call someone and talk to someone who can understand, who is willing to listen and try to understand. Call someone and talk to someone who can accompany me home and not leave till I fall asleep... Of course, this person only exists in my fantasy. 

It's occasions like this that remind me again and again I am parentless. I am not unique in this sense, but to many, especially those who are parents themselves of children my age the fact that both my parents are gone seems to attract sad empathetic frowns and "You are still so young..." or you have gone through so much..."  You cannot, cannot imagine. 

I don't recall how the conversation turned to this, but again this episode today reminded me again this is the way it's going to be for some time. People are going to ask, and I am going to be reminded of the reality that my parents are no longer around. How do I face it? With a grimace... With an awkward laugh perhaps... With some stoic line like "It's alright. It's been a year..."? All the while deep inside I am crying. Crying all over again...

The warnings signs are all there.

But do you want to see it? Do you want to let it register? Or do you choose to pretend everything is fine and dandy?

Message to...

Break in

Such horribly vivid memories of work and people at work. I saw all these images of documents being edited and written,  of faces and heated discussions, of unanswered emails and frustratingly people who do not reply at all to my repeated calls for help. 

Suddenly there was a noise, the noise of my bedroom door opening. I was waken from my sleep, my heart raced. I opened my eyes. Half last five. Second time I was waken from my sleep this night. I thought someone was in the house. The cat jumped and dashed across the corridor. She looked up and looked into the distance, as if someone is there...

I am getting paranoid. 

Mounting stress

Quarter to ten at night. Just left the office and heading home on the metro. What a long day. Long but unproductive. And for some reason, so exhausted... So tired I feel like I could just faint and collapse...And it just dawned on me again: twenty days till my first upcoming exam, yet I've studied an hour or two only. How many more hours to go till I feel confident and prepared enough to sit the exam? 

I meant to study or at least do some work this past weekend. But a good friend was busy moving to his new apartment and asked me to accompany him while he looked for furniture and appliances. I couldn't decline, so for two whole days drove from place to place looking for quality and affordable furniture. It helped me in a way, as I've dreamed of owning my place for a while and am taking little steps to start looking. Seeing all these appliances and sofas reminded me in a while of how basic my own apartment is, and how little I actually have. But no matter. As my friend told me...) my hospitality and the warmth of my home (including my sweet little cat...) more than makes up for the lack of furnishings.

 Last night, I stayed at his eye place till almost midnight to assemble furniture. I enjoy doing this for friends, and did not feel tired at all. It brings me joy to know I'm helping a friend settle down in his new place, in a way contributing to a new beginning. Even my friend commented i look so happy and engaged when I'm deciphering how to assemble the different pieces together. While I sat there tightening bolts an nuts on the ikea furniture, I was reminded of the last time I did it, for my ex. Sweet memories.

These days, I have suddenly so much work at work, and it's kept me away from studying. And this weekend my ex is coming back to the city, something that always makes me so disturbed and unsettled because in truth it just pains me to know he's so close by yet I cannot touch him or behave the same way around him like we have done for so long. It pains me to think, to know he's in the same city, yet lying with another person. How easy it is for another to do that... How painful and difficult it is for me to accept and just move forward with my own life an let go of all those promises of love and a future tofehr. I doubt I can get much work done again...

I wish I could just get away from here and not face anything. Not have to face mutual friends who see everything as a joke and source of gossip... Not have to face or be exposed to being this sad former lover left alone and still wondering in the dark why or how everything went sour and died... After several weeks of healing and relative calm in my life, I finally have some sense of stability and security. I dread to have it all shattered again having to face the unpleasantries and difficult reminders of the past when the ex visiting...

Hidden feelings

They do not know, behind the smiles, the joking around, the "normalcy" of it all, I am still hurting, still so lonely and reeling from a deep sense of dislluisonment and loss... They do not realise how often at night I cry alone or wake up from a nightmare longing for comfort and consolation...

Shudders

My phone contains over two thousand and six hundred pictures. Sometimes I accidentally see them, all of them, some of which date from the summer of 2011.

Many date from 2012, the extremely tumultuous and painful, painful year of hospital visits, hospital overnights, decline, disappointment and losses. I have not had the courage to delete those pictures... It is as if deleting them were disrespectful of all the pain, the moans, the tears and the suffering I saw mum go through... As if deleting the pictures erased  a chapter of my life that I wish to forget, but am so afraid makes me less human, less loving and erased all the love and affection I gave my mum. 

But seeing the pictures cry... Mum lounging on her bed with a tube stick up her nostril... My hand clutching onto her hand, silently passing positive energy and hope and life into her body (in vain...)... My nephew making us all laugh and forget about the difficulties we were facing... The ex who visited and in that short week gave me such hope and such promising future immediately after mum passed... Painful. Simply painful...

One by one, the pictures will be erased. One by one, they will be forever gone from my phone...

Bright eyes...

Suddenly as soon as the music sounded in the room and the words flashed across the screen, I began to tear.I have not cried since my return from Taiwan, since I bid farewell to my mum, my dad a month ago...

Is it a kind of dream,
Floating out on the tide,
Following the river of death downstream?
Oh, is it a dream?

There's a fog along the horizon,
A strange glow in the sky,
And nobody seems to know where you go,
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream...?

It's just a song. Just words, sentiments, sounds, notes, just the softness of an artist's voice, just the emotions evoked by vibrating chords on a guitar... Yet they mean so much more to my ears, so much more to my weary, weary heart and soul. A word, a sign, a song, a smell, a taste, a picture, a thought, a memory... everything and anything could cause the false sense of "I'm-over-it" to completely crumble and drive my mind and mood to experience such intense pain and loneliness...

Bright eyes,
Burning like fire.
Bright eyes,
How can you close and fail
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes.  

I saw my mum's eyes before me suddenly... eyes that once were so bright, so filled with love slowly fade as signs of her life waned and faded... Those soft, loving eyes that looked at me with such love and affection, that looked at me with such motherliness and unconditional care. Where could I find such a glance again? How can such bright eyes suddenly fade and become so eyes? How can the eyes of the mother I grew up imagining would watch me grow up and grow older, watch me graduate and settle down to found a family, so suddenly "close and fail..."?

Just as you think things are ok and life is back to "normal" again, just as you believe you can "move on", the sadness and the pain that is so deep and so personal comes back to remind you you are still vulnerable, you are still so very vulnerable and need to heal... "You don't move on from it, you move forward with it", I heard some one on the radio say the other day.

Move forward with it... move forward with it in the hope that one day, one day, the load will lighten, and that my eyes that "burn so pale" and are dampened with tears  will again "burn so brightly"...












Is it a kind of shadow,
Reaching into the night,
Wandering over the hills unseen,
Or is it a dream?

Two sided

I am always surprised how two sided people can be, and more and more I see it around me. Was I naive before, and did I for too long refuse to see the "real" face of people? Did I cling too long onto the idea that everyone is innately good and kind and selfless?

At work, a series of events over the past year or so have made me so tired and cautious at work. People stepping over one another to get recognition... people bickering and feuding privately, yet openly and publicly maintaining this charade of being the best of friends... mud-slinging and bad-mouthing when someone is not around, and yet praising and boot-licking when the person appears... the hypocrisy, double standards, the pride and prejudices, the "daggers behind smiles" can be sometimes nauseating. But this is every day life... every day politics at work, amongst colleagues and "friends".
 
And it is ugly. Uglier yet when people you held such respect for could in favour of money, fame, glory, respect, shed their lofty academic credentials and titles and become such petty people. It just shows, we are all human after all, and titles, degrees, number of books written do not make a person better. In any way.
 




They say as you grow older you become disillusioned with life, you begin lose hope and lose faith in the world and in people. They say that. But somehow I still want to believe people are not inherently selfish; people are just ignorant and unaware. I still want to somehow believe people are the way they are because of circumstances and their upbringing, experiences and surroundings.

But with all that's going on at work, it just makes me want to move on and move away at the earliest opportunity. 

Family

I received a census in my email and began filling it in. There were questions about my family, my background, my childhood (even very personal questions about abuse experiences as a child...). And there were questions about whether I want to have a family.

Yes, I do. I haven't thought about it for a long time, not since last year, but it's always been at the back of my mind. The reason why I've not thought about it is simply this: you can't have a family being single, and for now, for too long, there's just no longer any potential to start anything. The closest family I have now, at least in the immediate surroundings, is my cat. And perhaps my collection of stuffed animals. My brother and his family are family too... But they are too far away, and in many ways since he got married two years ago he started his own family, one with a lovely and lively one-and-half year old.

I look at pictures of my nephew an am often filled with envy and longing. Sure, behind the cute poses and laughters must be a long of frustrations and exhaustion  ( having and raising a child is not easy...) but the beautiful moments together, family time, dinner together, coming home to a child wanting for you, watching the child grow up, take his/her first steps, speak the first words, bike, go to school for the first time and so on and so on... Those are moments and experiences that are so precious. Precious in part because they provide you with the opportunity to relive what you experienced earlier on in life.

Mum dying and leaving this world last year made me long more for the idea of starting my own family. When you begin to lose something, you long for it even more. losing mum was a final break in the disintegration of the idea and feel of family, and I knew it. Hence the hurt and paralyzing disbelief and lingering pain when my ex made all these promises that with time became more like words to placate me in a time of desperation and longing for hope.

But that's all in the past now... Or is it? 

My ex called and we spoke last night ( he calls almost every night... Strange, yes.) and somehow we got onto the topic of babies and children. (Must have been triggered by the news of the birth of the latest heir to the British crown) He and I both want to have kids. For a few minutes we talked about how wonderful it would be, about how many children we like to have. It felt familiar, felt comforting. Felt at the same time also like a dangerous trap. 

Maybe for him, it's just wishes and dreams he's sharing with a friend, an ex. For me, talk like this with him just conjures up memories of dreams we once shared together, and raises hope and wishes that in the end will end up hurting me and hindering my progress to moving on and being less attached to him and to what we once had. Maybe to another person it's just all talk, but to me, a dreamy Pisces who is gullible and so easily lead on, talk of babies and family  means so much more... 

I wish I were not like this. I wish I did not feel like this, I wish I were not so vulnerable and easily swayed by talk of family, a beautiful family and a future filled with love and security, stability and the comfort of not being alone... But this is the way I am. Take me as I am.