Start Living

I find myself missing my Mom more and more with each passing day. Little things set me off. Like today, I was watching Bones on  the computer, and I learned something interesting, and I turned to her to tell her, and she wasn’t there. And then I burst into tears and wrote a sobby Facebook status uipdate about how much I miss her.

We have her ashes. We want to scatter them in her rose garden, as we scattered Dad’s in the rest of the garden. Finding the right moment for this has been hard.

It’s all so different now, and there’s a dull ache in my chest that I’m sort of starting to get used to. It’s similar to the one I have for my Dad, but it’s strangely sharper. Maybe because her loss is more recent than his. Maybe it’s because despite everything, the fact that I’ve lost my Mother hurts like hell.

And yet… despite all this, I feel an odd sense of freedom. I’ve been out the past two weekends. I performed at a dance show in the first weekend of September, and did the DVD editing this past weekend. I worked on it through until Wednesday, every night. And I didn’t have to feel guilty that my sister and the rest of my family were being forced to look after Mom when they might have wanted to do other things, or take a break. It was actually nice to give them time to do stuff together, just the three of them.

Also, I think I’ve started to fall in love (insert happy giddy, nervous-wreck grin here). I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve been romantically interested in. My longest relationship lasted only 9 months and I broke it off (seven years ago) because between university and what I perceived as family obligations, I couldn’t make time for her, and I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me as her girlfriend. It hurt us both (her more), and I am very, very lucky that I can still count her amongst my friends. The last time I attempted a relationship was in 2008/early 2009, and with my Dad being depressed over his recent retirement and Mom’s mental health failing, I felt too guilty to pursue it. Which wasn’t fair to her either. Again, I’m very lucky that I can actually count her (and her wife) as two of my closest friends.

Since then though, I’ve doubted that I could actually feel romantic love any more. Or infatuation, or simple “OMG, I have a crush!” giddiness. I haven’t wanted to pursue romance. It’s got to the point where I’ve been wanting to be artificially inseminated, get pregnant and raise a child on my own because I didn’t think I would ever meet the right person and fall in love.

Not that I’m saying this girl is the right person, I don’t know that yet. I don’t even know if she’s interested in me, or if she could become interested, or even if she’s attracted to other women. Though she might be? Maybe? Possibly?

All I know is that at this point, this giddy “OMG, I have a crush!” feeling is so alien to me that it gives me such a huge sense of joy to know that I can feel it in the first place. All I know is that I want to protect her and love her and make sure no one ever hurts her again. And if, if, if I can only do that as a friend, you know what? So be it. I won’t push it and I’ll take it very, very slow (I’m good at that, I think?) and I’ll see what comes of it.

I’m starting to live.

It’s a nice feeling.

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