A quote I ran across in my reading today, from Best American Essays 2006. C.S. Lewis wrote of his late wife in "A Grief Observed" that "her absence is like the sky, spread over everything." Today, that's a feeling I can understand.
It isn't that my day was completely terrible, or yesterday either. But there have been some hard things.
Kelly's cat, Morris, was diagnosed yesterday with feline leukemia. I visited them tonight. It was good to spend time with Kelly and Maggie, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching "Glee" with them, but seeing Morris, probably for the last time, was terribly sad. He is almost completely blind (this has come on pretty suddenly), and as a result of this he is now nervous and afraid all the time. He is often very affectionate, and follows people around the house by sound. He runs into things and trips over things. If he were my cat I think I would want to give him some time, to see if he could adjust to this new blindness. But they will probably put him down on Saturday, and I can understand that. I'm just so sad. Kelly has decided to stay home, instead of coming to Lafayette as she had planned, in order to spend as much time with him as she can before he goes.
It is becoming more and more apparent to me that our older dog, now about 15 years old, will probably not last much longer. He is so sweet, but his sight isn't what it once was, nor is his hearing. He's a little senile. He is pretty weak and arthritic. His teeth aren't good. He's lived a pretty good life, but this is a very sad thing for me to contemplate.
David. This isn't new, but it doesn't hurt much less than it did. I can spend more time not thinking about it, and I can switch channels away from it more quickly, but that's all. He doesn't want to be in a relationship right now, for reasons that, I think, have very little to do with me. I respect and sometimes understand that. However, during the (prevalent) moments when I am unable or unwilling to convince myself that we are bad for each other, I do want to be in a relationship. With him. Oh, I do. I do, I do, I do want to. I grieve for the future I so often thought we would have together. But still I can't (or am unwilling to) let go of the idea that we aren't good for each other. So I find myself, despite the fact that my feelings are currently irrelevant to the state of our relationship, balancing barefoot on a knife edge. Again. Still.
But I said that my day wasn't completely terrible, and I feel like I should honor that statement. Because it wasn't.
Work was fine, even sometimes enjoyable. I had "All Shook Up" stuck fast in my head for no evident reason, and I spent much of the day dancing to it when no one was looking. Not just belly dancing today--I am growing weary of dancing in only one style. Today I also twisted and moved my feet more and included my arms and so on. I know everyone was wondering. I also took some time to stretch a little, because I never do and my hamstrings are, therefore, about as long as shoelaces. And I read Best American Essays 2006, as I said before. The essays I read today were all good, which was a nice change of pace. The reason I put the book down several weeks (months?) ago was that I hadn't been enjoying much of what I was reading there. Today though, as I am currently tired of fantasy, memoir, food, and science writing, essays were just what I needed.
After work I went to hang out at school until Chloe was ready to be picked up, and I spent my time very pleasantly in Ms Herod's office. She is, hands down, one of the coolest faculty members ever. She is a very intelligent, funny, and kind person. I was glad to be able to spend an hour or so with her this afternoon. When Chloe showed up I took her home, and sat with her for a few minutes checking email and such, walked the dogs, and went to Kelly's. We had steak (only) for dinner, seasoned with the seemingly ubiquitous Texjoy. It was delicious. We spent some time being sad about Morris. We watched American Idol and Glee*, we spent some more time being sad about Morris, I drove home. I called David on the way, as we'd had a nice conversation as I drove to Kelly's earlier, and had had to cut it short. Unfortunately this one was more on a downbeat, and then I had to go and bring up us. Why did I do that? Sometimes I feel like I'm just tearing myself open over and over again. And for what?
None of those "love is a golden cord" poems or quotes never used to make sense. Why does breaking up always make these things make sense? And why does breaking up make love that before seemed so evasive, so elusive, now seem like steel cables?
I sat in the car for a few minutes after I pulled into the driveway and hung up, wondering aloud why I always end up crying in the Volvo. Then I remembered that I had promised to help Chloe with her Chick Lit research paper, and I dried my face, and I went inside, and I started reading and listening and talking about Jane Eyre and Bridget Jones. So now my eyes are dry, and I am going to go take a shower, and sleep.
*Glee is utterly wonderful. I have only seen two episodes, but I want to own every season and every soundtrack. What could be better than a musical sitcom? What could be better than well-produced, well-performed, vocals-focused covers of fantastic pop and rock songs? I mean, really. If anyone was wondering what to get me for a birthday or Christmas or Tuesday present, this is it.