The traffic in my brain’s driving me insane…

     So tonight is it…the grand finale…goodbye to Cork and Ireland and as I sit here in the empty bedroom, nothing but hangers in the closet, bedsheets folded neatly to be returned on the beds, and a glass of vodka and orange juice within easy grasp I feel as if I’m sinking.  Sure…happy to go home…of course I am.  I have never felt so unsteady, uncomfortable, depressed, unintelligent, foolish, heartless, homesick, heartsick…in my entire life.  But when something as powerful and life altering as this comes along it stays with you.  I loved every hair-ripping moment of the past four months in one way or another and even though I’ve felt lost and lonely these past few months…even though I’ve been desperate for home…friends…family…familiarity…somewhere in there this place became home to me.

     I lost something when I came here…and I found something.  I cannot describe the intensity of this feeling of loss.  At first I thought Christmas here would be pure misery…no family? No friends?  And now I’m wishing I could see Cork light up and come alive with Christmas music and celebration.  I wish I could see people stumble blind drunk down the sidewalk on a Thursday night, heaving their good times onto the pavement, pissing like dogs on the nearest building, or shouting "Mr. Brightside" as they prance about the freezing cold in their shockingly short skirts.  I wish I could be one of them again.

     But there’s just tonight.

     And then there’s him.  He shouldn’t have become so important to me.  I shouldn’t feel this familiar choke at the back of my throat at the thought of never seeing him again.  My eyes burn, and like usual I build a wall of smiles and jokes to keep the burning from spilling over into a real sorrow.  I can’t cry just because I’m leaving…I’m stronger than that…and I’m certainly not in love with him.  But four months is a long time to carer about one person…four months is a long time period.  And this has been the longest shortest four months of my life. 

     Perhaps I wouldnt care so much if I wasn’t leaving.  Perhaps neither would he.  Perhaps….maybe…who knows?  So much hell he’s given me…and its the most anyone’s given me in years…I felt something when I was with him…not detached calm and amusement.  Certainly not disgusut.  I felt…good.  Even when I felt bad, and there were times I felt bad, I still felt glad to have someone to care about enough for them to make me feel bad.

     I guess this is what I get for holding back for so long.  I held back from him…wouldn’t give him the ammunition to really hurt me, but I wasn’t the only one withholding.  Something clicked.  Who knows…blanks and metaphysical connections.  We both benefitted from this relationship…and he has no idea how good he’s been for me.  I can care about people again…I can feel genuinely happy…and I can love again.  Maybe not him…but he’s paved the way.  And I think I have given him something similar.  He was certainly in a worse place than  I when we met.

    What a long strange trip it’s been…and what a mind-fuck.  I’ll never be the same, feel the same, or love the same.  I’m awake…aware…opened up to the posibility of actually giving more than a passing thought to someone in the romantic sense.

***

    But before I pass on that note….to someone who was my rock…my sanity/insanity…my personal hero.  YOU are the reason I didn’t lose my mind during all this.  We have so much to talk about.  :-*

    To everyone who has been patient with my inconsistency….my love to you as well…I’ll see you all very soon!