2004-12-25

Gray Christmas

The golden light hit my face and touched my lips. One finger wrapped around the black curls at the end of my hair, while my other hand rested on my waist. Before turning off the light to my room, one more sigh escaped my lips and I truly wished that Alastair were here with me.

His being in Quebec with his father and brothers fills my heart with some degree of calmness, knowing that this is what truly makes him happy. But the fact that I cannot spend Christmas with the love of my life gnarls the vines of melancholy that grow within me.

It's rainy here today--28 degrees and gray and one of those days which call for one to be in a pensive mood. I would have liked nothing better than to have woken up by his side.

The entire family was at yesterday's Mass. My nephew, Jonathan is getting bigger--as I stepped cautiously out of the car, he came to embrace me with open arms, and I advised him not to call me "auntie" in public, for it makes me feel old.

Roger's best friend, who is my eldest cousin's husband, was there. Every time I see him, having to smile and nod my head politely, somehow...I feel as if Roger were somewhere lurking in the shadows--waiting for me to slip. That is the only reminder that I have of Roger, and I oftentimes find myself wondering what his own best friend knows of the situation...which happened long ago.

This morning during breakfast, my father drew "the diagram of life" for me. He sketched "life" as he saw it: all of us existing as atoms with circles of "energy" surrounding us. Each person has their own circle according to the life which they have lived. Suddenly, he turns to me--his black eyes fixated on mine--and he says: Y la persona que quizas hara tu vida una miseria...este naciendo en este mismo momento...

"...And the person who will probably bring the most misery to your life...is being birthed at this very moment..."

I thought of Roger suddenly--how much I loved him. The fact that he knew that, as a fact, yet, didn't care. The person who has brought the most misery to my life was born on March 15, 1983 in Warsaw, Poland.

Ironically, love turns into hatred after some time. And on this day, I can only say how much I hate Roger Grzbowski.

But the person who has made a complete misery of my life also woke me up from a deep sleep.

It's so gray today--it truly is. And I find myself in love a year and some months since I met The Devil Incarnate.

Speaking with Ali last night, me wished me a Merry Christmas and expressed how much--just for one day, perhaps--he would like to wake up with me in his arms.

My heart is filled. The New Year approaches, and this chapter must close. Roger has to be buried deep within the cobwebs of memories--trapped by the ghost night watchman.

And memories become stories that we must carry with us inside golden boxes, and take them to the River of Dreams. Once there, we empty out that golden box and let the words dance. Looking to the side, there will be another sojourner who empties out a golden box--alike in every way to one's own.


Life is the intertwining of words--stories. All I know is that earlier this morning, after speaking with Al, a blanket of heavy sleep covered me. Finding myself in the Field of Hope, I made my way towards the river, being led by the serene sound of waters running and cutting through rocks. Other sojourners were also making their way towards the river. I unlocked my golden box, and presented them to the river's deity.

This path has ended and this journey is finally over. It's gray and rainy today--wet pavement and skidding tires. But in a few months, it will be spring.

aeka at 11:19 a.m.