I never thought this would happen. I never thought that I would stop enjoying writing in my journal. I used to sit in cafes for hours and hours and hours. I would sip my sweet cappuccino so very slowly, watch pedestrians passing slowly by the window, eavesdrop onto the various conversations happening in the coffeeshop, or just daydream. I used to have so much time for daydreaming. I would write about all of this, or none of it, but it would be wonderful just letting my thoughts float onto paper, drops of ink flowing from my pen. Now I'm just smack dab in the middle of the Information Revolution. I enjoy sending emails more than I enjoy writing! ... never thought that would happen. One could argue that the art of writing doesn't need the actual physical, antiquated act of writing with a pen. Typing on a keyboard serves the same function really. It's faster, the words aren't as easily forgotten before they're recorded. But at my age, the words fleet by a lot quicker and I don't catch them as easily as I used to.
I've started reflecting about all of this since the Boyfriend left on a 6 week jaunt through Nepal. I've been feeling quite lonely without him. To tell you the truth, since I've only received one damn email from him, it feels like I'm bereaving a lost soul. I hope he's ok. I'm sure he's ok. This experience can be quite jarring. I've gone from basically living with the sweetheart, talking with him every day, spending all my extra time with him, to ... nothing. I have noone to share my thoughts with, no one to cuddle and kiss and hold, no one to wake up next to in the morning. He's everything that I've ever dreamed of. Which makes this so difficult. Mostly I've missed the sharing of thoughts. I've been sending him at least one email per day in an effort to duplicate the sharing of my intuitions, my troubles, my insecurities, my emotions, my mind. I think that's what I miss the most. I really miss the feeling that one person in this world actually wants to listen to what I have to say, is patient enough to try to understand exactly WHAT I'm saying (especially when I'm not making any rational sense), has the experience and empathy to understand my motivation and emotions for thinking the way I do... AND absolutely loves me for it... ALL of it!!!!! Trying to replicate that experience in an email is much more enjoyable than writing to an empty journal. And thus: I don't have as much motivation for writing in my journal anymore. Instead, what I have been writing to my Beloved made those emails more meaningful to me than writing on an empty page written to the Unknown Reader, possibly that person I will inevitably become but who will derive less pleasure in reading those pages... ?
And that's why I've returned. Since the BF left, I've been trying to make sense of my life and the crazy crazy crazy world around me. I've been reflecting on my thoughts, my obsessions, my irrational and sometimes ridiculous emotions. It's interesting, but not so fun most of the time. It feels like I've been torn wide open! I used to ignore all of this by hanging out with the BF, essentially escaping with him and through him, diving right into his life, or the life that we've created together. I forgot what this could be like. But I'm actually enjoying the process, come to think about it... in spite of all the pain and lonelinesses...
