today

i was angry. mad. sad. tired. depressed.

i went and skated about it. played some oldschool bad religion. skated harder.

got in some of what i continue to call 'hockey practice', because at this point it would be slightly inaccurate to call it skating for fun. i skated out my feelings for an hour, and that wore the edge of the anger but then sedated me enough to where all the other Feels popped up to say hello. perfectionism was in there, waving heartily - i'd wave back, but wouldn't do it right - and his voice rang out to say "hey kiddo, you skated like a shit, how bout you do another 20 or 50 drills? you might get it someday. just try again. harder."

i am a perfectionist and hate it, though sometimes it's helpful.

that said, skating on my outside edges is scary even though i can cut in decently with the inside edges.

that also said, i was cautious with my ankle and did some of what maybe was speed skating? power skating? who knows. i went real fast. i got the turns in there. i almost powered over some figure skaters and hot DAMN do i wish they had public sessions for people who have one knife-glued foot up in the direction of your face and public sessions for people who merely put their body weight in the direction of yours.

everyone is fairly polite, though, and i don't hurt badly right now.

today was what i consider a good session, though i don't have those hockey stops on point and i fucking HATE that. if i can figure out how to do it without blowing out my knees - ANY of the stops, for that matter - i'll be pleased.

meanwhile, said my housemate, snow is forgiving and ice is not, so what the fuck am i doing trying to pretend i can stop on said ice as easy as i can while skiing?

life is ridiculous.

...i wish Jason would give me lessons. or teach at me. or hug me. or laugh with me at how full gear makes me feel like Ralphie from Christmas story and yet i'm still afraid to fall. and then maybe shove me gently. or laugh about how i'm only 2 feet tall and i don't have that far to fall anyway. or just be a friend, heckling-ly, but motivational and competitive and beautiful and elegant and strong on ice.

my stops would get better, i think.

ah, bleeding heart, shush. I've told you - heart - before that yes, this is the man i planned to live until eighty years of age with. not in some dull, boring way, but in the way that meant i looked as forward as one can to living and growing and being together with him when he is an eighty year old man. (as if i, a seventy-five year old woman at that time, would retain youthful eternity simply due to his presence, though in a way, i would.)

one decides early on, i feel, to grow old with their partner, their love, their spouse.

i decided that many years ago, not long after i'd met him in 1997.

at present, i will grow old and he will grow old, but - at present - not together.

i can't plead any louder at the universe to hear my requests to please put us back together. i'll bring the painter's tape.

friends: get over it

me: go fuck yourselves

perhaps if i was a doctor - licensed! with my own practice! and clients! and paychecks! - this would be such a different pain: muted, tolerable. but i am not, and instead get to sit in the mire of my Thoughts. they're quite pleased to have me as a visitor, and they never have coffee or tea available.

or chocolate, for that matter.

it doesn't matter, the reasons, for why my life is the way it is today. things have happened and been done by me and to me, and this is not how i'd preferred my life - of education, of career, of financial stability - to turn out, but i have to sit with it and that's that.

the reasons don't matter for the purposes of this writing. and where better than LiveJournal to put things like this? i wrote it all out before, i'll write it out now.

Xanax, children, is a sedative. it is not an antidepressant. i wish that it was.

then again, this is that one External Stressor that does not leave me alone: grief.  pain.  interior vast empty cavern of nothing that's carved out the space that was whatever i was.

fuck it, i'm going poetic.  let's not.

i do not like things right now and i want Jason to be back in my life; with us to have a blossoming healthy fun happy friendship (to start). please. lord. all universe. all everything.  

please.