enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary
"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh
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Me being me. With a few pints in me. Comme d'habitude. :)
ACK...Culotte pointed out to me that this entry reads incorrectly...so I'm correcting it!!! Sorry!!!!
K. So you guys know me a little bit by now. You'll forgive me my flaming nostalgia.
I just had one of the loveliest evenings of my life. It was with my former coach. I was the mature me who has sorted out many things in her life. At the same time I was 25 again and with the man whom I considered to be a second father.
It was beautiful. I was fast again; I was winning the bronze medal in the 1998 track championships again.
I want I want I want to run fast again. I want to desire again to run in the Olympics. (I'm talking about the belief that I could...which didn't materialize into actually making it, and I gave up after only one attempt. :(...I wasn't that good yet...)
I want to be young again.
But I am not too old to run fast again. Of course, J. was blowing sunshine up my arse about this this evening.
But I am not old. And with two beers and two pints of cider in me I believe, just for a minute, that I will once again run like the wind.
I have the wind in my sails.
Bad Larry did not respond to my note of yesterday. But did I really expect him to admit his cowardice?
Not so much.
I am 28 again, 54 kg and 168 cm and I am running across the Tower Bridge in London. I am running along the Thames and I am bleeding but I am smiling. I am the happiest that I have ever been in my life. The man whom I adore is standing on the Blackfriars Bridge calling my name. Old ladies on the side of the road are calling, "Canada! Canada!" I want to cry I am so
I can't believe that I am showing you those horrific pictures. I didn't even have my national team uniform yet. And I had bad hair. Such bad hair. But I was so happy I can only remember the feeling that I had then that life might never be as good again...
Tonight, J. reminded me that when they saw me run at the track champs they knew that they had something special, that there was so much more there. And god I wanted so badly tonight to be back there and to not make the decision to move with S. to Australia and to not break my foot and to not squander my future...on the rational choice to return to school, the choice of which my mother approved...You could break your heart sometimes wanting to be back there. There. And to have the courage to walk another path. I'd take another path in a heartbeat. The scar on my arm from tumbling down the escarpment in the Australian bush tells me this. I wanted it.
But in the end, not enough. Not enough.
But still enough that Larry could never understand for one instant the depth of my commitment and hope for better of myself. Not for a moment. And I refuse to hate myself for this for even one more moment. It is not always all my fault; it is not always a matter of my monumental shortcomings.
|12:48 a.m. - 2007-05-26
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Come al solito - 2011-04-16 unfettered spending - 2011-04-15 How does it go? - 2011-04-14 Whirlwind. - 2011-04-13 bleak that flips over to daffodil - 2011-04-08 |