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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Lights dancing on the Arno; river mostly looked like a swamp to me tonight.

Gawd I'm having such an up and down week. I was so tired today and I am completely miserable at the moment. It's clear that I can't see things justly given that I'm not well.

There's really no reason to be miserable. But I feel like a twenty-five year-old again.

I walked to the Pont3 Santa Trin!ta to just have a good cry. And I did that. But how banal to be facing the river Arno and crying to the whimpers of What
!if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home blaring from the speakers of a restaurant terasse on which a single gorgeous couple sat, eating what looked like sushi.

I know I shouldn't constantly be hoping for life to throw me bones. It's even worse to think that these bones should build the skeleton of a self-esteem. I mean, I know that nothing is lost here. I made a friend who was attracted to me. But he lives in another country and time marches on and what was I expecting anyhow? I did try not to expect something. To some degree I succeeded. I can honestly say that this trip is not about him.

I suppose that I wanted to shore up resources for when I go back to my lonely world. I hate these feelings of self-pity pouring out of me. I'm so tired of feeling like, "Of course. Who would want me, anyhow?"

I wish I had some crumb of confidence on which to build hope and belief, but there seems to be so little.

Then again, I always do pick myself up and dust myself off, and I'm not about to go out and hurt anyone or throw myself into the Arno. So that's something.

I guess I should decide whether I really want to go to this meeting with his business partner. It seems very strange to me. I met her once on one tour and he told me all about her. She's had a sad story. American. Found her brother who had committed suicide in the family garage. Moved to Italy. Became a cyclist (or maybe had been one), then a qualified sommelier (no small feat in Italy with so many wine laws). He told me that he thinks of her as a "special" (meaning unusual) person, like me. He trusts her and respects her. I suppose I should consider myself honoured to be in such company.

Like I said, I don't know what he was thinking. I don't know what he has in mind. It may be that he's really busy and it's the only way he could fit something in. So it was kind to be thought of in that way. He wants to pick me up at 4 p.m. though, which strikes me as strange. I mean, who eats dinner in italy at 4 p.m.? Maybe they do; maybe I'm oblivious.

Well, whatever. If I could focus on what is only, I could forget this. I wish I knew the secret to buoying yourself up when you feel left out. I wish I knew so many secrets. Maybe I knew them once but they've all deserted me.

Maybe I missed the bus that God was riding home. Cause then you'd have to believe.

:)

So perhaps I should skip the dinner and the cycling and just book Rigoletto and take myself out for beautiful dinners every night this week. And maybe I should book a nice hotel for a couple of nights and enjoy a lovely terasse. The wise woman in me would say yes. The woman who wants to quit her job says no. :)

11:42 p.m. - 2008-09-17

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