for me, the rain is soothing. for some, it’s an inconvenience. i am sitting at my dining room table thinking about my life.
i have met many people over the years who i no longer know. whether it’s because they were work colleagues and i left that specific job, or i had a falling out with someone, or i merely moved or they moved — poof — they have disappeared.
however, i have come to appreciate their significance in my life.
when i was little my cousin Vanessa visited my family home in Brampton. she had come from Nova Scotia, where my mother was born and raised.
i enjoyed her company. she was funny, smart, beautiful and besides my mother, the only immediate female influence i had. after her visit i never saw Vanessa again. i know that she is married now, but i don’t know if she has any children. she would make an excellent parent.
she represents a number of individuals who quickly entered, affected and then left my life.
was it all a dream?
sometimes i think everything i experience is a piece of my dream-life, which is in essence fictional. everyone is merely a means to an end, until i awake in my real existence, which will look and feel nothing like my dream-life.
perhaps this makes no sense to you; what i’m saying is that you are a figment of my dream, and not real, unlike me.
my friend left the other day and i am sad. i want him to come back but in the same thought, i don’t want him to. i want him to enjoy his life without me, as he did before we were friends. it might be in my best interest to understand that i can’t have everything i want, and that the beauty of life is that it’s filled with heartache.
and if i hold onto the notion that everyone is a fictional character in my dream, then i won’t allow myself to be sad.