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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Soft bed awaits

Well, I won't lie. Today was a difficult day. Someone said something to me that really hurt me, for a whole bunch of personal reasons I won't go into. I cried a few times in my office or in the bathroom, which was generally fine as I haven't cried (anywhere!) in a long time and I needed it. The only negative side-effect is that my face is tired.

I always feel ashamed when I have a less than stellar day at work, but by this point in time I'm smiling, though weakly, and mostly over it, and tomorrow is another day. I will start fresh and do better.

I went on my date with Raphael. He's a lovely person but it turns out that...well, there are a few important details he hadn't revealed.

His life is pretty complex. First, he showed up looking like a hobo. Honestly, he was dressed like a homeless person. We went for a slice of pizza as the diner he had suggested was closing, and it was clear that money is an issue for him. When we parted, he was going to spend all night in a diner "in order to do some reading." I do believe that he has a home, but clearly his lifestyle is not exactly akin to mine. I'm all over the idea of him being a writer, but I don't suppose I see myself dating someone with such weak hygeine and who lives a kind of night-time life.

This is a challenging idea to me, however, as I want to believe that I really could date an artist. I don't know. I seem to want an employed artist.

There are more details, but there's not much point in going into them. I don't know. I feel a little bit - OK a lot - tired at the end of it all, and it does make one wonder about this online dating thing (um, yes...), but in the end I come home in gratitude for my place and that tomorrow I will get up and go to French class and on Thursday I will go back to work and figure out one or two more things.

It's dark and cold here in the winter. I mean...doh! Tonight it's pitch black and we don't have any fresh snow and so the sidewalks are a steely grey patched with dried salt. Everything is hideous and the cold unfriendly. Even in my red coat I felt the unfriendliness of it. Walking back along my street there was a certain surreal feeling hanging in the air, made more acute when I thought of Raphael trudging to an all-night diner.

When I think of all-night diners I'm tempted to think of Hopp3r, of course, or of the Degas of the absinthe drinker (Degas), but of course that's not the modern space at all. Or is it? Maybe it is. Lonely people who don't fit anywhere. Maybe tonight was about seeing that I'm not quite as far out as I think I am, and that at least for now, in this moment, I am warm and safe. And I won't sit here and think "Why me?" and "Why not me?" It just is.

XO

11:40 p.m. - 2010-02-09

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