and it still comes as a surprise to some

Natalie Keener: Never? 
Ryan Bingham: No. 
Natalie Keener: Ever? 
Ryan Bingham: No. 
Natalie Keener: You never wanna get married? 
Ryan Bingham: Nope. 
Natalie Keener: Never want kids? 
Ryan Bingham: Not a chance. 
Natalie Keener: Ever? 
Ryan Bingham: Never. Is that so bizarre? 
Natalie Keener: Yes. Yes, it is. 
Ryan Bingham: I just don't see the value in it. All right, sell it to me. 
Natalie Keener: What? 
Ryan Bingham: Sell me marriage. 
Natalie Keener: Okay. How about love? 
Ryan Bingham: [scoffs] Okay. 
Natalie Keener: Stability. Just somebody you can count on. 
Ryan Bingham: How many stable marriages do you know? 
Natalie Keener: Somebody to talk to, someone to spend your life with. 
Ryan Bingham: I'm surrounded by people to talk to. I doubt that's gonna change.


this could be a million conversations i have with a million people. 
next time, i'm going to try to have them convince me. that'll be a change.
(from 'up in the air')

a different kind of heartbreak.

i had my heart broken.
it has happened before, and i knew it would happen again. just not like this.
i called. i wrote. i did all but lay down my weapons, wave the white flag, and beg on my hands and knees. with no response.
we go to our friends with heartbreak; relationship woes, fights, tears, turns and swings; embarrassment; mistreatment; and the sheer pain of being overlooked by the object of our affection.
and each time, those friends we hold closest to us tell us, 'don't let them treat you that way!'; 'that's NO way for someone who is supposed to care about you, to speak with you!'; 'if they don't love you, they're not worth it. you're better than that.'; 'you can't force someone to love you - you don't want to HAVE to force someone to love you'.
so then, what happens when it is those friends we turn to, who lead us astray.
it's not even so much as a fight, a falling out, things being thrown, names being called. it's not because they cheat, lie (though i guess sometimes it could be), sleep with you and never call; date your best friend.
most often, it's the simple heartbreak of a disintegrated friendship that hurts. that moment when you know everything has changed. the moment when all those hugs, tears, kisses, promises... are all purely memories in picture frames that you'll fondly look back on.
you don't laugh the same way you used to. every hangout has a minimum 4 preceding calls to arrange. you catch them rolling their eyes when you make the same joke (or the same kind of joke) you've made the entirety of your friendship. things... have just... changed.
and then it happens.
you start to become someone you're not - for them. not all at once, but the little things. you buy something you may never have bought. you make a joke that wasn't yours to tell. you try too hard to be something you're not. because maybe they'll love that person. if they are falling out of love with you, then maybe an alternative you will draw them back... to that place in which things could not change.
and then. it dawns on you - it wasn't this person who was part of the original bond. it was you. and.... as our friends always tell us, 'you can't force someone to love you.  you don't want to force someone to love you'....
and you realize things will never be the same again.
you can call. you can write. you can plead, and beg. but there's something new in the friendship that wasn't there before. something that never threatened the threads of the relationship prior to that moment. the acknowledgment by both parties that something has changed.
and it's time to move on.
then the heartbreak sets in.
i think - as cheesy cliche as it sounds - throughout my injury, and the rest of the year, i've had ample time to think. to evaluate. to analyze my own misgivings - of which there are many. admit things to myself, about myself. be angry. be sad. and most of all, be appreciative.
and above all else, i learned that work won't stroke your hair when you're crying for days straight about your life changing from that split second in time that fractured/tore/ruptured/etc. your back. technology won't make their home yours for the month that you can't live alone because you can barely move (and even if you could, you are so high on percocetes you can't function anyways). a car won't bring you groceries every week, because you can't hold a grocery bag. clothes won't bring you bags of DVDs to keep you entertained, instead of sinking into a depression. none of those things will help you go to the washroom when you are in so much pain you can't even get out of bed. none of them will pick you up, against your wishes and sit with you in silence, just for the sake of making sure you are leaving your house for the first time in a week. none of those things will drive you to drs appts, physio appts, ct scans, mri's, and then cry with you on the way home when you find out bad news. none of them will laugh with you when you're talking about your self destructive behaviour, and then tell you later that they are concerned you aren't being good to the most important person in your life - you.
and those friends - the ones who you've tried so so hard to make things better with? the ones who you hoped would be with you through everything... but who you now have to seem to fight for their attention. they won't do any of those things either.
there's always a place.
and for now, i'll do the same thing i do whenever i experience a breakup that actually hurts. ignore the pain, pretend i don't care, and try to sleep... my mind thick with thoughts of you.
“No matter who broke your heart, or how long it takes to heal,
you’ll never get through it without your friends.” carrie bradshaw
(all images originally from weheartit.com)

my (delayed... again) weekend in summary.

work has been so crazy busy, and i have had full nights, and haven't had a chance to put together my memories from the past weekend!
Lots of friend time this weekend – despite the rain!
photos: computer time with myself; at the bar with friends for Laura's bday, and 3L kegs; waving bye on the subway; the beginnings of a very good/bad night (that bottle was gone by the end); tons of jewelry making; our spread; soft tacos galore; my friend amanda and i on the way home from the bar; more jewelry time on sunday.
Friday: got home from work, and took my computer right outside to enjoy the sun – researched art collectives (as my friend and I are on our way to starting our own), and enjoyed the last moments of sunshine for basically the entire weekend. I then went inside, had some dinner, and prepared to meet friends for a birthday. Headed up the subway line to meet up with a few people for Laura’s birthday. Great night meeting one of Laura’s friends from teacher’s college, and another friend who I had met before, but hadn’t had a chance to really get to know well.
Saturday: woke up fairly early, and cleaned my apt a bit. Then went out to attempt to get a joe fresh target breast cancer tshirt while also accomplishing my groceries for my Mexican night, and for the week. I prepped some food, and then my friend dave picked me up for our Mexican madness that we’ve become so good at! Margaritas, soft tacos, tons of amazing food, and so nice to hang out with him. Then a few more people joined us, and we went to the beir market for some drinks. As usual, closed the bar down, and then headed to dave’s – and then I cabbed home from there. I wound up with 30 beer coasters at the end of the night to my name. apparently the bar tender told me to take one of each.
Sunday: woke up VERY late, and just lounged. Went and got greasy Chinese food (after my craving for 10 for $3 samosa’s was destroyed by the fact that the place wasn’t open on Sundays), and sat. watched tv, and made lots and lots of jewelry. Nice, relaxing day.
Hope everyone stayed (sort of) dry!

colder weather is coming

every now and then, i hear a song that i swear was written about me... often we hear songs that we can relate to, that make us feel better because it lets us know that someone else has been through it...
however, every now and then i hear a song, and i feel as though someone from my life - past or present - has taken time after their common or specific interactions with me, and written a song about it. i felt a lot like that after discovering dave matthew’s band 'grey street'. I don’t think I really ‘heard’ that song until after my first heartbreak in second year university. I spent a long time alone in my room, listening to david gray (this year's love), ben harper (another lonely day, of course) and dave Matthews band.
Over. And over. And grey street simply seemed to be written about my feelings about the situation at that moment, my feelings I harboured towards myself in general… and thus the outcome of my future in love and life. I didn’t realize that the words written on the walls of my rented room (written previous to my moving in) were going to adequately describe my feelings in those moments… “There's an emptiness inside her. And she'll do anything to fill it in”. a friend of mine even told me at one point that when he heard this song, he thought of me – how heartbreaking, when a friend sees this sadness from so far away… and thinks of me when a song describes it so well.
Oh look at how she listens | She says nothing of what she thinks | She just goes stumbling through her memories | Staring out on to Grey Street. | She thinks, "Hey, how did I come to this?" | I dream myself a thousand times around the world | But I can't get out of this place. | There's an emptiness | inside her | And she'll do anything to fill it in | But all the colors mix together - to grey | And it breaks her heart | How she wishes it was different | She prays to God most every night | And though she  |wears it doesn't listen | There's still a hope in her it might | She says "I pray oh But they fall on deaf ears | am I supposed to take it on myself? | To get out of this place? " | Oh There's a loneliness inside her | And she'll do anything to fill it in | And though it's red blood | bleeding from her now | It feels like cold blue ice in her heart | When all the colors mix together - to grey | And it breaks her heart | There's | a stranger speaks outside her door | Says take what you can from your dreams | Make them | real as anything | Oh It'd take the work out of the courage | But she says "Please | There's a crazy man that's creeping outside my door | I live on the corner of Grey Street | and the end of the world." | Oh there's an emptiness inside her | And she'll do anything to fill it in | And though it's red blood | bleeding from her now | It's more like cold blue ice in her heart | She feels like kicking out all the windows | And setting fire to this life | She could change everything about her | Using colors bold and bright | But all the colors mix together - to grey | And it breaks her heart | It breaks her heart | To Grey
And then time passed. It got easier to hear these songs. Easier to forget that they described me, and how I felt in a moment – or in the case of grey street, how I felt about myself all the time.
“She thinks, "Hey, how did I come to this? I dream myself a thousand times around the world.
But I can't get out of this place.”
But life goes on. And you learn to move forward, pushing back against those feelings of pain, inadequacy, ache, and loneliness. And new friends come along, new relationships, new hurt, and you are able to forget a little bit what you discovered about yourself.
Then – recently – I experience my 2nd heartbreak. And all those feelings came rushing back. And although this time it was less of david gray, dave Matthews and ben harper I listened to, and more of ray lamontagne (are we really through), jack Johnson (angel), and MBF (suzie).
and then a friend sent me this song… a few weeks ago. And while I’m still heartbroken, but in that stage of realization, where the hurt becomes reality and you just learn to live with a pain in your heart every day, because you know it won’t go away anytime soon. And he sent me this song. And again, I had that moment of realization, in which I feel as though someone has seen the other side of me.
and though the song doesn’t relate to a specific situation for me (though… it does relate in a way I wish not to explore), there was a portion that could have been taken from my life.
“Maybe tomorrow will be better | Can I call you then | Cause I'm a ramblin' man | I ain't ever gonna change | I gotta gypsy soul to blame | And I was born for leavin' (born for leavin')”
What can we gain from these songs of self reflection? A mirror turned back on ourselves showing the imagine we care not to see… maybe this means I need to revisit those songs that meant something to me in 2nd year, 3rd year, 4th year, and look for what else they said. And with them, find a way to look back, and break from that person in those songs.