Living Happiness

Dear friend:

It has been a long time since I’ve talked to you. I mean really talked to you. And your silences over the last few weeks have shown me that you, too, have noticed and missed our time together. I don’t blame you. I can’t blame you. I would feel the same way were I in your shoes. But I hope we can mend things.

It has been a long, hard summer for me. Do you know this? Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you’ve reached the point where you think, “Sure I understand, CG, but it’s not all about you all of the time, now is it?” Well … you’d be right about that, too.

Anyways, since it’s been so long since we had a good catch-up, I would like to tell you about my summer. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to share it with you in the first place, it’s just been very hard to do so.

As you know, I came back here to the States for a three-month stay. Did you know that this is the first time in three years I’d been back? Did you also know this wasn’t really a trip I wanted to take? Yes, it’s true. If I’d had my druthers, I would have been in Crete this summer, making my new home a home and spending glorious time with my beautiful fiancé. But I am not there, and I did not have my druthers. Why? you might ask. Well, the truth is I had to come back in order to be married legally in Greece. And there were no shortcuts to my time here — three months it must be with no ifs, ands, or buts. It has sucked.

Don’t get me wrong. There are definite perks to being back. For starters, I can walk into any shop and speak to anyone at any time, and whoever it is understands what I’m saying. This saves me so much time, and it’s so nice to make a joke and have someone understand my humor. I was beginning to think I just wasn’t funny any more!

It’s also been nice to see people I long haven’t seen, to know that they’re just down the street or a car-ride away. When an ocean’s been between you, this can’t be appreciated enough. And I’ve enjoyed having coffees, seeing movies, and going to cookouts on a warm summer evenings with friends.

But maybe you didn’t know that it’s also been hard for me to discover that people don’t really care all that much about my stories, that very few of them really want to see my pictures, and that a lot of my friends are even less enthusiastic to share about themselves. Conversation eventually falters. I cast about for things to say. We say our “see you laters” and I know it’s probably the last time we’ll see each other for a very long time.

It has been a lonely summer for me. Does this surprise you? It has surprised me, too. I have often tried to find things to do to while away the hours, but when I only have one online course to teach and no one is hiring (even in the service sector) because of a sluggish economy, this is a task that has been hard to do. Because you are compassionate, you can probably imagine then that this makes my homesickness for G all the more poignant. He is my best friend, and he is now two plane rides, an ocean, and a sea away.

I can see you’re wondering, though, “But if this is true, then why I haven’t seen more of you? Shouldn’t this have given you more time for me?”

You are right, of course. Yes, it should have. But I just haven’t known how to be with you. For, you see, for me to have my relationship with you, I feel that I need to have something to give to you. And this summer, I have felt that I’ve had very little to give. I have needed you, wanted your company, but I have had no token to offer you in exchange for your kindness. And in recognizing this, I have sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously pushed you away.

You have not done anything wrong. You are beautiful as always. But I have needed this time for myself, to replenish my stores, to deal with a sea of sediment that has been stirred up by my return here and is still in the process of settling. I have wanted to share this with you just as much as you have probably wanted to hear it, but I have not been able to articulate most of it, even to myself. Had you been able to physically come over, you would have seen our evening to be one of lopsided conversation. I would have been bad company. You would have gone home early, fed up with having to carry the entire discussion. Would you really have wanted this?

I have learned much about myself this summer–some of it good, some of it not-so-good. I have had days where I have been full of boundless energy and my usual dose of optimism, but I have had just as many (if not more) days where it has been a struggle for me to get out of bed, where my day has been a battle between what my body wants to do (positively nothing) and my mind urges me to do (tasks, errands, anything to keep a routine and stay on track). You could probably accurately say I’ve been depressed. And probably, in the goodness of your heart, you may wonder why I didn’t come to you with this. And I understand this, too.

I didn’t come to you because I knew what you were going to say. Or … at least I thought I knew what you were going to say. You have been so wise, so caring, so present for so long. I have heeded your words and read your thoughts so often that I felt I knew your answers without even having to ask my question. This wasn’t fair to you, I know. No one wants someone else to put words in their mouth for them or deprive them of their chance to have a say. You’re right. And for that, I’m sorry. I’ve probably done us both a disservice by remaining mum, but I honestly thought it was for the best. That and I just haven’t had the gumption to do otherwise. I do apologize to you for keeping you out of the loop and for perhaps depriving you of your own chance to give (something you love to do!) and, therefore, be the blessing you want (and love) to be.

I don’t know where we go from here because I still don’t know how much I have to give you, or even that I can give at all. I am slowly regaining ground, the sediment of my internal sea is finally settling, and I am beginning to feel like my old self again. But it may be a while before I feel strong. Can you understand this and be patient?

I did want you to know I’ve missed you. And I wanted you to know why I’ve been so “absent.” It is not because of anything you’ve done, and if you can think of a way that we can begin reconnecting again, I would open to hearing it. I look forward to what you have to say.

With lots of love,

flickr photo of dog at seaside by Ingrid0804