It’s surreal sometimes. School started up again on Thursday. I’m in a new living situation, however temporary. I’m playing again, however lacklusterly. I’m a titleholder. My friends are amazing humans. I’ve got interesting consulting work on my plate.
Motivation comes and goes. I adulted on Thursday and that was the first time that I managed it for a full day. It’s been a solid few days of adulting, though there have been some backslides for sure.
Everyday that prompt comes into my inbox and I get ideas and I get excited … and then I sit down and I’m dissatisfied with every word I put to the page. I feel like I need to write and I’m so tired of writing. There’s so much more, building behind the dam that is going to burst any day now … but I sit down and all I can capture is a stagnant trickle.
That’s how my play has been. I want to do it. My brain and my body HUNGER for it. I need it. Then I start to play and I just … go all meh. I play harder to force it and then I realise that I’m setting myself up for danger, so I stop.
I am flirting outrageously with just about everyone I have the tiniest iota of connection with. My fangirling has taken on a somewhat desperate air. When it comes down to it though, when there’s a chance to take things beyond flirting – especially with someone I’ve been after for ages – I freeze up. I can’t. I don’t. I must seem so fickle and obnoxious.
It’s really peopley out there of late. The heat wave doesn’t help, for sure, but the people factor has been off the charts. A friend came up to hug me today. A friend that gives excellent hugs and has been nothing but genuine and lovely as long as I’ve known him. A friend that knows how tactile I am – how much I adore hugs. Something in my face made him stop, put down his arms, and ask if it was ok to hug me. In my mind my response was “of course, wtf?” but my heart wasn’t so sure. I ended up hugging him and it was good.
I resent the fact that I’m constantly needing support. It isn’t the fault of my friends – they’re lovely. They put up with me at my most abrasive and are gentle and kind and hold space … and all I want to do is yell and cry and throw things and break stuff.
Except that’s not really true either. I’m so excited to take the next steps on my journey. Thursday’s class is taught by my least favourite professor and he was awesome – I legitimately enjoyed myself and I’m so glad I went even though I was late. Wednesday I got to participate in something that filled me with warm fuzzies. Friday I got to jump into a new and meaningful work project that is right inside my wheelhouse. I’ve chatted up a couple of friends about a new writing column for non-binary voices and they’ve agreed to lend their incredible strengths to the idea.
I still collect memes for you though. I’m still saving stories you’ll never hear. There are a million little things that make me think of you each day. I cherish memories of you. I’m still breaking down and asking why. Why were you taken from me in this way? It hasn’t been long enough to expect to be over anything but I’m so ready to be over this hurt.