Flipping through the mental photo album

I think I’ve forgotten how to sleep.
I’ve been so hopped up on adrenaline for the last three days, and I’m so over tired, I just can’t crash.

It’s a horrible, torturous state of mind. My brain desperately wants to sleep. My eyes are so tired, the muscles that hold them in their sockets are sore.

But for some reason, that little switch in my brain that turns off all the internal lights and wheels and whirlygigs, just won’t activate.

It’s so frustrating.

The worst part is I decided that while I couldn’t sleep, I might as well make myself completely miserable. So I started taking a little jaunt down memory lane…

And found myself aching for the good old days two summers ago in Rankin. When everyone was still friends. When everyone was still alive.

I’m still haunted most days by the fact that Paul’s gone. As I was driving back from Kamloops today (fire fire fire fire fire fire fire fire fire) I had all these flashbacks of times together. Sitting in hamlet meetings, watching him conduct the mismatched, out-of-tune, council orchestra (and me, trying not to laugh). Him fixing my snowmobile countless times. How he became our knight in shining honor when the curling club was floundering. Fishing for trout at his and Sarah’s cabin (his fiancee), and then him cooking a feast in this incredible batter he found god-knows-where.

And I worry, as I flash back through that mental photo album… that I’m going to lose some of those memories. That if I don’t go back and look at them enough, they’ll fade away.

I feel really cut off from all the friends I used to have up north. So much has changed in the past year. Everything fragmented, and re-aligned in bizarre ways.

Hunter, my best friend (and ex) up there now has a baby girl, and we’ve not spoken since she was born.
I’ve not talked to Sarah (Paul’s fiancee) since before he died. First I didn’t want to bother her, then, I didn’t know what to say, and then, I felt so guilty that we never talked. And it’s kind of stayed that way.
I call Nat — who I was closest to when I left town — every now and then. But I always feel like such a suck when I do that. Like some kind of needy freak who can’t leave the past behind.
And I just tried to reach out to Porter, because he was so helpful back in March when Paul passed, but of course, it’s legion night, and hardly a good time.

I just feel like I’m drifting between all these different worlds, and don’t really fit anywhere, especially not here, where people walk around in bikinis down the main streets of town. I’m an east coast gal, and my real friends are … all over this country. And most of those friendships have eroded to just part-time catch-ups, so maybe it’s just the memories I’m friends with, not the people.

I just want to feel like I belong again.

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5 Responses to “Flipping through the mental photo album”

  1. fawn Says:

    You will, honey! It takes time to get established in a new place and it always feel like it takes forever, doesn’t it? Sometimes it seems like people are all so busy, they don’t have time to get to know anyone new. And it’s certainly weird when the culture around you is so different, everyone else’s priorities in life seem so different. You’ll find “home”, though.

  2. Mongoose Says:

    I would suggest saying “I’m sorry for your loss” if you don’t know what to say. It’s a million times better than saying nothing.

  3. Jackie S. Quire Says:

    Yah I was a little impreceise with that comment. I’ve communicated with her, but not verbally spoken with her.

  4. Robyn Says:

    I feel exactly the same way. My friends are spread literally all over the world, and I’m back at home with my parents… (hopefully temporarily). I need to find me a home, and re-establish my friend-base. Hopefully somewhere near you, so we can both stop feeling like drifters (metaphorically, and in my case literally)

  5. Jackie S. Quire Says:

    Don’t get my hopes up you big jerk!

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