2002-12-30
11:36 a.m.
still
It's not quite the time when I usually do this summation of 365 sunrises, but I'm leaving for that dreamplace, Up North, and will find it this time I'm sure. I won't be back before it's 2003, and I need my lists. I lived in the forest outside of Kentville, with a wood furnace, and learned about small places. I lived in Yellowknife, With A Boy, and learned about history and landscape, and researched/wrote about devastations to the climate in the real North (not this Ontario bullshit), and played songs of my own on the CBC, and adventured and adventured. Now I live in Halifax, by myself for the first time, and I'm learning what kind of person I want to be. I've been lots of places this year. I watched 2002 speed past from the tiny seats of trains, cars, airplanes and - good grief never again - greyhound buses. I mean, I'll take buses again, but not from Toronto to Yellowknife. Shit. I'd do it again in a second - officially a chump, me. Oh, and I found out what a rational, loving, adult relationship can be, and it was perfect. I also found out what a rational, loving, adult breakup can be, and you know? He's one of the people I talk to most. And I moved from uncomplicated to the most complicated love, from the boy I was first for to the boy who was first for me. You don't talk for 7 years, and then you find each other, and you are still in love? Is it cowardice, fear of a world so full of people? or is it that once these eyes met those, there was no way I could refuse? Either way, this will burn and sting, and I know that - but it is what it is and ain't love fucking grand. One sister pregnant, one sister with a graduate degree. One freckledfiend with a magazine and a publishing company. A smalloceanoffriends delighting and surprising me at every turn, too many to count here. I am lucky. Also too many to count: those days full of so much joy that I can hardly speak. Another lake discovered, aurora borealis holding one lone bus on the highway, a rainbow ending at our feet, skinnydipping and kickboxing, camping without a flashlight because it is ALWAYS LIGHT. Songs tumbling from my fingers. The funny painted houses on my street. The ocean. This life, this life, this life. I hope that your year was as good as mine, that your yesterdays are sweet and your tomorrows are eager, that the burns and stings only make it more worthwhile. pretty good year
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