Birthday Presence (or Lack Thereof)

It's 11.22.11, and I turn 44 today. Seems like there must be some significance to that. A dramatic start to the day supports this theory: I got up early, made an extra large cup of coffee, brought it back to bed with me to enjoy while I read some Raymond Carver stories, and dumped the whole cup all over the bedspread, sheets, and pillows. They're in the wash now. Let's hope that's not an indicator of the entire day's spirit.

There was some bowling on Saturday, and tonight I'm meeting up with a few friends for pool at a local bar. Plus dinner with Amber and lunch with Alison. Should be nice.

I should tell you that Alison has made up her mind that she doesn't want to move back in with me. She's found a new apartment, which she'll be moving into in December. It's a sublet until April. I don't know what will happen after that. We'll be dividing up our finances too, as funds will be tight and we'd like to avoid any poverty-induced conflict.

There are no hard feelings on either side. This is something she probably should have done four years or more ago, in retrospect. I think it'll be a very good growth opportunity for her. And for me, for that matter. We'll be maintaining a close, intimate, platonic relationship with open minds about what it could be in the future.

Lest my neutral tone be misinterpreted as uncaring, though, I'm really sad about this. Hopeful for the future, but really sad in the present.

It's a beautiful sunny day right now, and I don't have much work to do, so maybe I'll go for a walk, get some more coffee. But it's also below zero, and there's frost everywhere. What am I to make of these mixed messages? Just dress appropriately, I guess...