The last few days I've been doing stuff, filling the time with wholesome activities. Moving books around so that the gaps are less visible. Skating with my parents & Blake in the pretty pretty snow. Transferring my clothes from the craft room to my bedroom. Making sure that the kitchen is tidy and the laundry up-to-date. Taking Blake to Christmas stitch n' bitch at Lettuce Knit, because I don't even have to mention it to anybody. Keeping busy. Trying to feel good about myself. Distancing myself from the pain by excelling in domesticity.
I keep tripping over things that he left, and they are just as inexplicable as the things he took. Why did he take the Vince Gueraldi Peanuts CD and leave his R2D2 phone? I suppose that I need to be a little less diligent about trying to figure it all out. The lack of logic fits in well with the whole breakdown of the relationship, anyway.
Preacher phoned me a couple of nights ago, and I found it soothing that he was as baffled as I was. Besides, trying to explain it to him meant that I didn't have to try and live with it alone, at least not for that hour. I saw Ian today, and the same applied. I think I crave people who knew me before I started dating the Boy, because they're a link to a time when my whole identity wasn't this relationship. I realized today that I got engaged and dumped within a week. There's something about this season, I guess, something that really and truly makes it the cruellest month for me.
Speaking of wholesome activities and cruel months, I managed to see Sweeney Todd on Boxing Day with Stacy, JimZed & Death. Thank heaven that in my time of need I am given Johnny Depp in a striped bathing suit, Helena Bonham Carter in black corsets and jet upon jet of arterial blood. That, and the snowman tray, made it all worthwhile.
"I eat out of a snowman. Do you eat out of a snowman?"
"I eat out of plates with my family."
I also tried taking Blake to the ROM for the reopened dino exhibits, but it was a bit of a bust. The first part was good: I met Ian as planned, he whisked us in with his employee pass (swank! I'm with the video producer!), and the new galleries are truly dino-tacular. Blake, however, was completely over-stimulated by the swarming crowds that blanketed the fossils, and it was a struggle to keep him with me and focused on the exhibits. The real descent began when we were in the bird displays and I realized that Blake's Buzz Lightyear had been AWOL for some time.
If you ever want to see my kid collapse in grief then you should know that a defecting father isn't going to do it: it takes the disappearance of one of his 8 Buzzes in a public place. He reacted exactly as if there had been a death. First he clung to me, sobbing weakly. Then, when made to move, he marched tragically with a few tears slipping down. He accepted a free granola bar on a street corner, but when he realized that it made him happy, a new fit of tears wracked his little red face. Like so much of my recent life, it made me want to laugh and cry at the same time, while leaving me with a pounding stress headache.
Despite this reckoning, I did enjoy getting out to see Ian. He is, as ever, a quirky mix of rockstar privileges and honest integrity, which meant that I could cry my eyes out in the rotunda for free. And his reaction to that will be telling me that he made his sister cry on Christmas, so it's been the Worst Christmas Ever in a few places. That made me feel better. I guess I don't mind being in pain as long as I can be the Queen of Pain. Plus, unlike most of the people I meet in my day, I can say all of the crazy shit that I'm thinking and he'll just return the serve as if it was normal to refer to yourself as "the spores of relationship poison." I miss that.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*