Ryann Reflections

A glimpse into the life of one anti-social stripper nerd.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

work in progress

I’m in Toronto. The night has faded into a soft blanket of white as ice crystals send the city into an early slumber. I’m left the bar early simply because I was bored and it was as exciting as a morgue. Gramma called me earlier, worried about the dreadful winter storm I’m supposed to be surviving. It doesn’t look so bad to me. I think this city just whines a lot.

This room hasn’t changed. The bar is still the same. Externally everything appears just as I left it. So much of my life exists only within my mind. The melody of Bob Dylan is floating through the room like the soft current of a river in August. Wind echoes in the background, adding depth and layers to the already poignant song. Tears flutter behind my lashes as I type the date and realize the calendar marker.

It’s been two years. I don’t want to rehash the reality of that day or the phone call that changed my life. I know it. I know every tear and every touch. I just want to pause for a moment and remember…

Trevor.

I wonder when so many years will have past that I will forget the date? Will I ever forget? Or is it to be forever etched in my soul? Am I destined to always think of the beautiful taste of The Musician and the heartbreak of Trevor, entwined in memories?

“We live and we die. We know not why but I’ll be with you when the deal goes done… We eat and we drink. We feel and we think, far down the street we stray. I laugh and I cry and I’m haunted by things I never hoped or wished to say. The midnight rain follows the train. We all wear the same thorny crown. Soul to soul our shadows roll and I’ll be with you when the deal goes down…”

Some days I feel that everything is different, that the whole world has changed and nothing is the same. Then sometimes I look around and feel like I’m standing in exactly the same spot. Sometimes I think my memories are just dreams. Did it all really happen? I struggle to remember the feel of certain touches… too surreal to be factual.

Have I changed? Or have I just awoken to who I always was? Was I living in a dream for years? Sometimes I think I’ve come so far, and then I remember how flawed I really am… and how much I have to grow.

I’ve had a lot of things on my mind the past couple days, most of which I don’t even know how or what to say. I wish I was as good with women as I am with men. I wish I naturally sensed when I was out of line, before I do land myself in the middle of somewhere I don’t belong… I’m trying to learn. I am. Sometimes I’m afraid of Who I Am.

I'm a work in progress.

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4 Comments:

  • At 4:20 AM, Blogger Femicas said…

    Never underestimate the excitement of a morgue. ;)

     
  • At 12:23 PM, Blogger Me is Newfie's Woman said…

    One day you will be able to look back at this an smile to yerself...Being afraid of yerself is sometimes a good thing.. It is yer hearts way of protecting you..

     
  • At 4:13 PM, Blogger Ryann said…

    hmmm the morgue eh... whoo hoo I know where I wanna hold my next party.

    newfieswoman... I'll take your word there.

     
  • At 11:53 AM, Anonymous Kate said…

    I love the way you write *hugs*

    "I am the daughter of the earth and water,
    a being of the skies..
    Though I may seep through the pores
    of the oceans and shores,
    I may change, but can never die"

    keep it on Baby
    Kate- secret watcher

     

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