Had met a floppy-haired sailor guy a couple of weeks ago, and, although very different in some ways, I had thought we clicked on some deeper level. He thinks I'm "bat shit crazy," (and the feeling is mutual), but neither of us seemed to mind. As any of my friends know, I am fiercely opposed to "dating," which I consider a form of torture. I have had an occasional moment of weakness, but have generally stuck with my solitary life for the past few years, without regret. For the first time in three years, I was surprised to meet someone I might care for, might want to become entangled with. Naturally, it would be my luck that he would be leaving town soon for the islands. At first I thought "how nice to find someone with a natural expiration date" so as to avoid entanglement. Unfortunately, he rather grew on me and I became quite fond of him. But such is life, and winter is only long when one is lonely. I had thought there was a mutual affection. He said he'd keep me up all night playing music until I fell in love with him. When I protested that I needed to rise early and run, he said "What's more important, falling in love or running a marathon?" I just want to have both.
But it seems some gust during the storm blew us apart. He went from caring to icy without explanation. His departure has been accelerated a week. I had been looking forward to the next couple of weeks just enjoying each others' company, arguing politics (ok, I actually hate politics), listening to music, hopefully getting to cook aboard together, literally and figuratively. But I've gone from sweet nothings to radio silence. I did try to tie a bowline around him, but he wriggled away in the nick of time.
Add to some heartache that I've been missing my father terribly. Nine months since he died and I still want to pick up the phone and call him, the only person who always supported me no matter what.
Headed for the marina shower late in the evening today, a glass of wine in tow. Seemed like a safe time not to be holding anyone up if I drained the hot water (which doesn't last long anyway). Kept the window closed and decided to throw caution to the wind and sing in the shower. Singing seems to be my only solace when I am wrecked--whether heartache or grieving the loss of my father, or as in these past days, both. Got through my triptych relating to the sea: I cover the waterfront (Billie Holiday), Never Been Gone (Carly Simon), Sea of Love (akin to the Cat Powers version). Could not even get through the first verse of Amazing Grace before breaking down. I seem to have been caught up in a storm surge of sadness. Once I had applied all my lotions and potions, donned my pajamas and down coat, and opened the door, there was a guy sitting on the floor outside the bathroom waiting on me. He'd probably been there long enough to hear me singing and crying; a major downside of semi-communal living.
Normally rather "girl versus food," today I ate two pieces of string cheese, Amy's cheese enchiladas, and two (about to be three) glasses of pinot grigio. All in, about 1000 calories and far less than I normally consume. Forgetting to eat is never a good sign for me. I will have to make an effort to get back on track with both running and eating. Perhaps I will break down and eat some Goldfish crackers now before bed.