Shout out to the boy

So, I spoke to the boy just now and he's going to read my blog! Wow! Feel all embarrassed, like we're on a first date or something. Hee hee. This is the thing about long distance relationships - the one's where you were once together in the same place -- you get by but only by supressing your real feelings. If I was to open myself up totally, I'd be hard pressed to keep breathing without him. But, to survive apart, I close that part of myself off - I just shut it and put it away. So this way, I continue living my life but not fully. When the intern was here, we talked about this, this living your life in segments. My segments are spread all over the world and the whole me is really present only in cyber-space, floating around like Mike TV in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Here is the other thing, the boy is off camping and my un-American cityness always kicks in regarding camping. I worry he will be killed or kidnapped. I worry some redneck will run him off the road and today, I thought about all that (just so I'm prepared), and my heart started to break. That is when I realised, I'd put my heart away while in Brussels. But, my heart knows what it feels like to crack - I learnt in last year with the boy. I remember the tremors and the cracks through the heart. For this reason, I will probably move to AA or even Chicago (no, no, there must be a god out there) and love them both. Because I'll be with the boy. Sounds corny I know. And I wish the bastard would come here. But I can't have it all. I can't, can I?

On another note, looked up cinnamon peeler on google image and found some cool photos of a dance troupe imagining the poem to dance. Then found a photo of a real cinnamon peeler and now can't enjoy the poem the same way again. Actually, the poem is one of my favourites. I've always maintained the Sri Lankans are a sexy bunch (PKG, the cricket team, MIA, PKG's sister, Ondaatje himself etc.) Of course, I'd like to add the Tamils are a sexy bunch (hey hey). I think it must be the dusky looks, good, strong, white teeth, and sinewy bodies. And lovely healthy hair. Its all that coconut oil.

Ok, here is one part:

"what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar."

As if wounded without the pleasure of scar...my broken but mended heart.
God, the boy will probably forget to read this and remember over the weekend and read it while correcting papers and puke. That's ok - we all have to know what we are marrying into.

This weekend is a work weekend. sigh. I want to go out alone saturday to see a movie, maybe a dinner alone, a drink at the Canadian bar (though the owner's gf will probably talk to me all night and i won't get to be alone). I want to see if I can stil go out alone - I seem to always be with people and have lost the ability to be on my own -except for sitting in my bedroom. B is off this weekend for her annual grrrrl alone weekend. Wow! I actually want the apt empty of roommate #1. I want to be in my own place...should i have sucked up the extra money and got my own place!AAAh, such thoughts are pointless.

Ok, time to go to sleep (and think of the cinnamon peeler - who is very like the boy -- the beach boy collecting coconuts). Hmmm...that links back to my small restaurant on the beach in Goa, cooking fish, having a guitar player in to entertain the guests, home cooked fresh food in a clean and pleasant surrounding. And here I am, all those dreams later in Brussels. This is age, because now, I can't ever even imagine that actually taking place - I've given up on that dream. Instead, I've replaced it with ambition and intellect. What a loss!