i've been having dreams of Ryan, sitting on porches, walking through woods, cooking in an unknown kitchen. i've even dreamt of sleeping beside him - that was the entirety of the dream. sleeping.
i had the infinite pleasure of chatting with him, with Cahill and with my brother today - a good day in any measure. three men who see a good in me that i don't know of. who see a beauty that isn't surface.
there is a better me somewhere in all of this heartache, heartbreak, soul shake. i hope when i find it, become it, evolve to it, there is someone there to love it.
i miss Ryan. i miss my best friend, Ryan. i can't believe that this is where i am, three years later, alone in a cold floored but warm aired apartment, sheltered from the insatiable rains of the pacific northwest, far from my sweet friends and no closer to my self. missing my parents, my happiness, my man.
regret fills me every morning and weighs my stomach down, making the already arduous task of waking up for an unfulfilling day that much more of a struggle. regret. Cahill noted today that without the things we regret, we'd never learn a damn thing. i really hate it when he is right.
sure, i could have just not gotten on that bus in bamako; i could have just been more patient with my medications; i could have handled everything differently; i should have started the painful relationship with Fisher's mother differently and simply gone on with my life, with or without her blessings; i could have embraced my surroundings and enjoyed where i was when i was there; sure. but what else, Cahill so poignantly noted, would i have stubbornly plowed through? where would i be?
there is a better me.