Holiday

I don't want to be closed off and bitter. All throughout the experience with Sjors, I made a deliberate attempt to keep myself open. I didn't have control over what he chose, nor over the choices of his organization. I can't choose how my heart works but I can, to a certain extent, pick my actions. I've tried to remain truthful and compassionate. I've tried to be a good person, and to prevent the poison of anger and resentment from entering my blood.

Today was Valentine's day. It is no more difficult today than it is on any other day of the year. The pain is the same. I do not hate the holiday nor resent people who are in lovely relationships. I do not wish anyone else ill.

 I am alone. I wish I was in that alternate universe where Sjors chose differently. But I am not. I am here. I spent the day in the apartment. I talked to Marie and Corinne and mom on the phone. I worked on the proposal for John. I cooked and ate meals. I cleaned up after myself. I wrote more of the memories I have of Sjors. I looked and applied for jobs. I studied French. I rode the bicycle trainer for nearly two hours, watching "The Borgias", and "Helix" until my bum was sore.

I listened to Bach. Contrapunctus.

I know that I am more fortunate than most. I try to remember these things. I try to consider the people I've seen who struggle for survival. And I know that I am not hungry. I am not cold. But the perfunctory actions of life seem so burdensome when there is no soul.  I've dated. But I am unmoved by these men. It feels wrong to pretend otherwise.

At dinner the other night, John asked me, "do you believe that things happen for a reason?"

I answered truthfully, "I do not."

I wish I did not believe this. It might be better if this pain had a purpose. But it seems that its only purpose is to be carried in my chest like a parasite. Sometimes I wish I could put a hole in my chest and remove everything inside, stop the ticking of that fucking clock.

If there was a purpose in what Sjors did, if there was a reason why I have lost so much, I do not see it. I wish that I could.