Glorious, Welcome Rain 🌧️

When I met Steve, I fell instantly in love with him. Or so I thought. Now, I don’t know what really was going on. But that was in Vancouver on hot and sunny Summer day at English Bay beach. For a year, we saw each other every weekend, mostly in Vancouver, often in Seattle.

During that year, I often wanted to talk with him, so I’d call, but he was never home. He was always out doing something. Every single night, and he is still living like that. I wondered why he was never ever home, because that meant he was almost never alone, and when he was alone, he was thinking about where he was about to go.

I lived almost my whole life alone. When I’m alone, I’m the person I like to be the most. I am content alone. A very big part of me doesn’t want to have anything to do with human beings. But I found love with friends who pull me out of solitude. 

I become a different person when I am with people. From before I was ten years old, to when I was sixty, when I’d lie down in my bed, I’d hate myself for something I did or said. There were times when I would come home, I’d lie down and would not move until I had to pee, and then I’d lie down again. I’d close my eyes and inside I was dying of shame or self-hated over something I’d done or said. It all made me not want to be with people.

But then, I realized something, the smaller the group of people I was with, the better I felt and performed. John was my first true adult friend. I was 22 years old, and in my first year of teaching. We’d been to the same high school together, where we were now teaching, but we’d never spoken together there. We’d get together almost every weekend, until John married. By then I’d discovered the comfort and security of a friendship, and I found many more. 

Now, much to my dismay, these people I love bring out all my symptoms, and sometimes it can be so fucking frustrating, and annoying. But no more. When I’m with strangers, I cannot talk to them; I communicate in writing instead. And that makes my speech, bad as it is, a blessing.

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I have made a garden connection. It’s like a first date, arranging for him to come by. Henri is coming this afternoon at 4:00. I have a list of things I want done that I’ll share with him, and he can look around my yard at the gardens. We’ll be sussing each other out; I hope for the best.

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Dianne and I made a plan yesterday for our Thanksgiving dinner together here, with Jane and Dana. Thanksgiving with Dianne has become a tradition, and I’m very thankful for this tradition. This will be the first year we share it with Jane and Dana, and I hope that they come every year from now on.

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Rain, wonderful rain, is falling. I lit the fire and am reading recipe’s, hoping to find a plan for a meal for tomorrow night with Lydia and David.