Yesterday was a long-ass day and I spent most of it writing, awkwardly, but I did manage to get 6 blog posts written and published, so at least it was productive in that sense. You see, I’m writing about my life, from the age of 6 until the present day. I’ve been writing since February 2017, so we’re pretty far close to my thirties by now, which is when all the really dark stuff starts and it’s not that easy to write about, because in writing you have to relive the emotions of the moment, and recall all the details that quite honestly, you’d rather leave in the past where they belong, but that won’t help the writing, so you immerse yourself in it, all the rage, all the hurt, all the frustration and confusion and pain and you work with it and write it all down and get it out of your system.
Or you try to. Sometimes these things can linger a while and you have to work through them again until the remembered emotions that caused them to linger can be dealt with. Sometimes those emotions can’t be dealt with and you live with the re-opened wounds, but this far into the telling, you can’t just stop. You can take a break, give yourself time to heal again, but eventually, you have to pick up and carry on. So why do it.? Because it needs to be out there. It needs to find someone who understands and is suffering too, in the same way, so they’ll know they’re not alone and find the strength to carry on, knowing that one day it will end and they’ll find their peace and happiness. And because they need to know that leaving too soon is not an option. There’s too much at stake. So that’s why.
Yesterday, Bear finally got home at 3 minutes to 9pm. Having told me at 7.30pm that he was at Utrecht station… and asking if there was dinner, as by the time he got home he’d be hungry. There was dinner, as I’d made Mushroom Stroganoff for myself and it’s a good thing I’m psychic (or so Bear seems to think) because he didn’t tell me when he came into the local train station, didn’t let me know he was on his way, or would be 15-20 minutes or so, so that I could warm dinner through for him… oh no, far too easy, let’s not do that, psychic abilities would have to suffice. So at 8.45pm I boiled the water for his noodles and 5 minutes later put them in to cook. They were done 5 minutes after he walked in. Am I good or what.?!
Today Bear’s not at college, as it’s Test Week for everyone else except his class, so he has the day off, well, until the political meeting at 6pm. So we’re vegging. He had a good day yesterday, but it was busy and very long and he’s pretty tired and so am I, after all that emotional recall. Chores can wait until tomorrow, and all Bear wants to get done today is the glass recycling, which seriously needs doing as our patio is starting to resemble a brewery cellar. The neighbours must think we’re alcoholics with all the bags of green and brown bottles… but it has been building for quite some time… getting on for a year I think. Bear’s a bit of a nightmare to get shit like that done, he says he’ll do it, and doesn’t… so I wait and mention it again and he says “Oh right, yes, I’ll get that sorted” and doesn’t… and we go on this way for months until the patio gets run over with glass bottles and jars and then he decides to get rid… *sigh*
It’s a good thing I love him. Actually, it’s a good thing he loves me. Poor guy. Good thing I’m not a nag.
Dear Diary... 
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