How do you know???

In her most recent post, 5th muse asks:

How do you know you're where you ultimately should be? Do you feel
it?

I also have a question for the happily-coupled among you. How do you know
you're with whom you ultimately should be with? How does it feel?

Wow. Tough questions. I consider myself among the "happily-coupled" right now, but it's so new and I'm so cynical about many things, even though I am happy, that I would hardly call myself an expert in this field.

My heart has been broken many many times. I've been in love "twice" officially. I've told four guys I loved them: the first guy was back in high school and I consider that "puppy love." I don't think I really did love him, although I cared for him a great deal, but I didn't know that until I met my university boyfriend. We were really truly in love. How did I know? It just felt right. We both knew that what we felt for each othe was more than simply "like." It was quick too - we met and started dating in September, and by November, we said it. We had a lot of fun together and he was the first person I had sex with and so we had a lot of fun discovering things with each other. I wouldn't have my first be any other person.

It was my longest relationship - one year and ten months and when we broke up, I thought that part of my heart died. It was then that I learned what true heartache is. There were nights I woke up with chest pain and tears running down my cheeks; somewhere deep inside, I was grieving, even when I wasn't awake. He was one of the first guys who really knew me. To this day, I think that although I've changed a great deal since we dated (it was after all, about 8 years ago!!) I know that if we were to meet up again it would be good - I'm over the heartache and it's like seeing an old friend. We're not in touch anymore - he's in Vancouver, and the last time I saw him was at Walmart on PEI two Christmases ago and he doesn't respond to email, but that's okay. I hope he is good and I wish him well no matter what he does.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

Just got back from a fun evening of drinking beer with Amy. We talked about a lot of things. One of which was the fact that a mutual friend (re: a good friend of mine who I don't think reads this, but might) who had not yet met my new man, is concerned that she "might not like" P. Especially considering she didn't like my last man. Hmmph. Since when does it matter if she likes him or doesn't like him? I love him. Isn't that enough? It's not like he's a complete and utter asshole - although I recognize she has my best interests at heart, I'm hurt that she doesn't trust my judgement. P is such a wonderful guy - I fell in love with him quickly - I can't see how anyone else wouldn't think he's great. But then again I'm biased, I guess! He's away for the weekend and I'm going to get some much needed sleep - I hope. Not that it's a bad thing to be kept up because of a wonderful new boy. But it is a difficult thing to maintain. I'm no longer 21!

Book cravings

As if I don't have enough books on my bookshelf waiting to be read. But I totally think this book would be a great summer read. Hah. Or at least would look weighty and literary on my bedside table. I wrote a paper on Sor Juana when I was in my Honours year and taking a history course on the Americas. Incredibly interesting woman. A feminist before there was a such a thing. Inspirational.

Swallowed up by the city

It was a beautiful sunny day and I knew if I didn't get outside I'd be kicking myself, so late afternoon I ventured out to accomplish some errands. Yes, there is always a to do list on the go for me. A woman's work is never done I tell you.

I digress. (As per usual). [While rereading my blog I found this word no less than half a dozen times, perhaps more. It's my own freakin' blog! I can digress as much as I want to! Why the hell do I find the need to apologize for it?!]

Headed in the direction of Big Bud's as I needed to pick up various things I knew I could find on the cheap there: dish soap, boot tray, other odds'n'ends that I didn't know I needed but could probably find a use for. What can I say? Shopping can be cathartic. And on this particular day, my stomach was in an uproar and I needed to get out of the house for a little while. Stress or something, I guess. Funny how stress manifests itself in my body sometimes.

After I left Big Bud's, I headed north on Bank to be greeted by wailing sirens of fire engines, police cars and ambulances on Somerset. They all stopped at Gabriel's pizza. I had to walk on through, checking out what was going on as I passed. I realized there was a man/woman/person lying on the ground, face down in front of the pizza shop. "Is he dead?" I heard someone ask. Until that moment I assumed it was just a drunk, but with that question I realized the paramedics were not moving very quickly and the person was only wearing what appeared to be long underwear, no pants, and not much of a coat. Tears sprang to my eyes as the realization that this person very well could be dead, and I had just walked by, as had dozens of others, curious onlookers who would eventually go on about their day as if nothing had happened.

And yet I had to continue my day, because what could I do? I had come all this way, and I had things that needed to get done because I don't get many days off. Callous, hateful, just like everybody else. What could I do? What could be done?

On my return from Zellers (it too, is cheap like Big Bud's) I encountered once again the wailing of sirens. What now? passed through my mind. Callous. Callous. The action stopped at the Second Cup. There was a very large crowd gathered outside and as I manoevred my way through the crowd, I saw a woman inside, crying, and being held up by people inside. I had no idea what happened, until I reached the corner.

Check out Lana's photo: http://www.placeandthyme.com/001013.php as she witnessed it too.

Someone had driven THROUGH the window of the Second Cup. I was stranded on the corner, momentarily, as the ambulances arrived. It was incredibly upsetting for me - I had witnessed two "accidents" in one day and to compound the problem, I was completely disgusted by people who stood around and gawked at the accident. The worst thing - I saw people with camera phones taking pictures of what had happened. I was NOT impressed. No offense Lana, but those people probably had no way of knowing whether or not someone had been hurt. Lana at least knew when she published her photo that no one had been seriously injured.

Perhaps the thing about it that bugged me the most is when I tried to make it through the crowed, the stupid cellphone/cameraphone users wouldn't get out of my way as I tried to get through.

It made me upset, and more cranky than when I had started out, and made me not want to live in a city anymore. I got over it as the day went on, but it was rather traumatic for me. Can't exactly put my finger on why - but I just was.

To Do

This poem by Elyse Friedman very aptly describes how I was feeling today during my day off. There's always so much to do and so very little time. Inevitably I end up feeling overwhelmed and cranky.

Oh well. We won our curling game tonight. I'm absolutely exhausted. My Valentine's Day was wonderful, absolutely wonderful - I'm totally head over heels for P and he feels the same way, thank god! He picked me up from work, we had Thai food for dinner, then went to see Proof at the Ottawa Little Theatre. It was really good; we both enjoyed it. Back to work tomorrow. I'm trying to finish up a job application that needs to go in tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me. My roomie just had her first day of her new job today. Lucky. It's hard not to be jealous. My turn will come I guess.

I can effing do this too!

Going through my links today, hoping to be inspired by something, my usual run of checking each of my blog links somehow seeming unsatisfying (not all of them, mind you, just some of them). Today it is my "Writing" folder of links to various webpages I have bookmarked as interesting, at some point. As I look at them I wonder if I'll ever read them again, my attention span diminshed to the point that posting a blog or responding to an email immediately after reading one seems like too much time and effort.

Came across some links to other writers, one of whom I met at an Elizabeth Hay reading back last year sometime, I can't even remember when. I attended that reading myself, probably one of the very few times I've done something like that myself up here. I seem to be afraid to do it, even though I know that it's easier to attend something alone in a city like Ottawa instead of Charlottetown, yet I used to go to readings by myself all the time at home because I knew a lot of the people who were going to be there, and it didn't seem so weird.

I'm digressing again - the woman and I got to talking and she told me she was a writer and gave me her card and I looked up her info and it turns out she's a Christian writer and has one book published.

It got me to thinking - I'm just as capable of writing and getting published as any of these people. The difference between them and me? I don't allow myself enough time to work on it. Why? I'm afraid of not being good enough, of not writing anything interesting, of wasting my time doing something mediocre. Defeated before I even start.

I have been reading a book I stumbled across from mintyfresh's blog that has been really inspiring, if only I could find the courage to put it to practice. It is called If You Want to Write by Barbara Ueland. It was written in the 1930s, but the advice and encouragement is just as timely as if it were written today. I find it so difficult to manage to write down my thoughts even for this blog some days. Is it the February blahs? I'm not sure. It's the no money, no "real" job, I miss my family, I wish I were successful, I wish I had a dog blues.