Saying goodbye

Dated August 8th

I'm seeing Will tomorrow - nearly a year since we dated and broke up. I'm not really sure what to expect. I'm not really sure what I want. I don't know what my ideal is. I don't know if I have an ideal situation in this case. He's leaving. There's a high likelihood that I may never see him again. I'm sure he'll be back in Toronto but things as they stand now, I'll never be part of his life again. That thought haunts me even close to a year since we broke up. It's hard not being able to share any part of my life or his life. Even in conversation. It feels cold and mean.

I'll acknowledge how weird it is that I reached out and asked to see him. It'll acknowledge that I'm surprised he agreed to see me at all. But I'm glad. I'll tell him my fear. How I am uncomfortable with the parallels between a breakup and death. It is never not weird to me. Someone I spoke to every day, one day disappears from my life. We don't acknowledge the other person's existence, and that is something I'm not OK with. I'll ask why he agreed to see me. Why he bothered to give me an hour at all.

I want to tell Will that I miss him. I don't know and I don't think I miss dating him. I think a year has changed those feelings. I don't feel the same way as I did. I don't feel pangs of hurt or even anger anymore. I miss him though. I miss talking to him. I miss sharing parts of my life with him and hearing about his. I miss hanging out with him. I want to tell him that maybe it's a strange request but I want to be friends. I wish we can get to a place where one day if he's in town or for whatever reason, I'm in his town, we can grab a drink and trade life updates. I want us to be happy for each other. I want us to be friends because I think he's a really good person. Maybe the nicest guy I've dated. I would really like for us to be friends and that's why I asked to see him. He's a good person, and it would suck to completely lose him from my life without trying at all to salvage our relationship.

From another month earlier: 
I hate losing parts of my life like in a breakup. It feels cruel. It feels confusing how someone is in your life and then they are not. It feels unnatural to me. I don't want to lose you, Will. For the first few months, I just missed having someone to talk to. I missed talking to you. I missed hanging out with you. I didn't just miss dating you. I missed you. I missed having you in my life. You were good even if/ even though you haven't figured everything out yet. I haven't either.

I want to tell him what's happened in my life in the year that we've been apart. I want to tell him it's really been a struggle with work and school. Everything was constant and I felt constantly overwhelmed. I didn't know how to exist. I wasn't really, truth be told. I was hanging by a thread for a lot of it. But I made it. I made new friends. I learned more about myself. It was one of the first real challenges I put myself through. It challenged my sense of self. After so long (nearly a year), I finally made it. I start my internship next Monday.

I want to ask him about his life. How has his life been in the past year? How happy or sad or conflicted was he about leaving his job? How excited is he about starting his new life? I want to wish him well. I want to tell him that I hope he's able to change the world for the better. The world needs it, and I think the guy that I met and dated really wants to help the world too. I want to wish him the best life, the best grades, the best experience. I want him to tell me all about it the next time I see him, and there will be a next time because we will stay friends.

I hope tomorrow goes well. I hope I'm able to tell him all of these things. I hope I don't cry or feel panicked. I hope I still feel safe with him. I hope when we leave, we can give each other a big hug and well wishes. I hope we stay friends. I hope tomorrow is not the last time I ever see him. I really hope that reaching out to him won't prove to be a bad idea. I hope that we can be honest and vulnerable with each other. I hope that if I lay my heart out on the line, Will won't hate me for making him deal with this again. I hope tomorrow goes well. I hope we can stay friends. I'd really like that.

Throwback Diary

There is a project called Throwback Diary. A 34-year old woman named Caroline goes through 20 diaries that she has kept since the age of nine, recording old diary entries onto video. My understanding of the project from watching its explanation, is that she wants to do something with the 20 books and years of her life. She also wants to share experiences and empathy with the world. I find the project interesting and bittersweet.

Not written on this day last year, but around the same time frame:
It's St. Patrick's Day, which means my university campus is going crazy outside right now. I have to work on a paper due at 2:30PM. It's only two pages, but I have about a quarter of one page done. One of the Boys is coming over at 11:30AM to make us beer pancakes. I should probably put some beer in the fridge. I have a seminar at 2:30PM. A bunch of friends are coming over at 8PM to drink and be merry and we're going to go out tonight.

It's my last St. Patrick's here. The Alumnus asked me how I've been doing. I said I was sad about leaving. He told me it's almost better coming back as an alum than it was to be here. I told him I'll miss everyone. I love my friends here. I've fallen completely in love with them- their laughter, their flaws, their love, their growth, everything. 

Sometimes, it feels like I am dying. I am so confused. It felts like I might perish when I leave this place, this bubble, this warm blanket of security and ease and fun. I know I won't. I was born and breathe as a city girl. The City is waiting for me- the summer, my friends, the laughter, the art, the parties, the music, the guys, the cement streets lined with shop windows and smelling of cigarette smoke. The City is waiting. I am going Home soon. But still, it frightens me. The world is so big outside and the people I've met here have been so kind. 

It's my last St. Patrick's here. I remember my first one here. We dressed in green. One of my roommates and I wandered aimlessly through the streets. We ended up sitting at a Starbucks with beer from a kegger. We had a picnic by the lake that evening. We went out again after. It was so messy. I love everyone here. I love my friends here. I have to start my paper. It's my last St. Patrick's, and I'll cry of joy if I want to. 
March 17th, 9:03AM.