Before the snow falls

I haven’t had much of an online presence this year. I’ve been on Facebook everyday, Instagram on most days, Twitter rarely … but I haven’t contributed. Not often anyway. Weeks go by between posts from me. I decided to let my website expire. This blog will be the only thing to hold the name Walking To Bars again. The brand didn’t feel right in the end, it didn’t really connect to me and as far back as it has sat in my brain, it doesn’t live and breathe for anyone else. I’ll rebrand in the new year and begin a new website that is more directly tied to me and my work.

But that avoids the subject. I haven’t been posting. My online life has died a bit. The truth is, I haven’t been creating anything. I’ve been existing in this margin, but that’s kind of it. My life hit a skid in June. I’ve said it before, it’s how I lead into talking about being broken up with. But the truth is, I’ve been sad since June. I’ve had happy moments and times that I’ve had fun, but I’ve had a layer of sadness that has covered me since the day she broke up with me. It’s some minor heartache level of depression, a grief that I’m still swimming in.

I’ve been thinking about posting a comment about it on Facebook. But I don’t know what I want to say and I don’t want to say anything that would make her feel awkward or sad. She isn’t really in contact with me. I received a text from her on my birthday, but she hasn’t replied back to any of the texts I’ve sent her. We’re still connected on Facebook and Instagram and I’m terrified of losing even that connection.

This week has wiped me out. I put in 10-12 hour days every day that I was at work this week (I’ve had people calling out of their shifts for various reasons and I’ve had to pick up the slack) and then I was packing in the evening. Thanksgiving was this last week. My brother hosted the meal on the day at his place and my folks came down. Since I’m staging out my move, we used the opportunity to move some stuff from my place to his garage. Roughly 97% of my books (35 boxes) are now being stored at his place. That’ll cut down the bulk of the stuff I have to pack and move on December 28th.

But Thanksgiving–I don’t want this entry to seem like a list of complaints. This has been a difficult year for me and I wanted to express gratitude to the friends that I have who have been present for me, whether it’s hanging out over a backyard fire or a cup of coffee, or meeting me for brunch and then spending the next 12 hours having a great rambling day with me. I have some good friends who have been present, who have not fallen on insincere platitudes (there are other fish in the sea … things happen for a reason … yada yada yada bullshit) and who have not expressed negativity toward my ex. Because among everything else, I still love her and I don’t want any negativity to be directed at her. Part of me will continue to hold out some candle flicker of hope that at some point whatever happened between us can be repaired, even if evidence suggests otherwise. But there is already too much negativity in the world. We’re besieged by it daily. My heart hurts for the attacks in Paris and Beirut, against Black communities and women and Planned Parenthood. My heart hurts and I don’t want any hurt directed toward anyone that I love.

Tomorrow we’re supposed to get our first major snowfall of the season. November will leave us and December will be welcomed in with a cold blanket of snow. Hopefully the snow will quiet my hurt, and when I transition from this apartment to the next, this show to the next, I will be transitioning into my next best self. Hopefully the snow will quiet all of the things and when it melts away in the spring I can share in that rebirth.

This is a rambling post. Not my most eloquent, but it comes from the stream of my consciousness. I just wanted to put something out there, out into the digital world, before the snow falls.

More later …


Published by: Thomas Rohde

Artist // Writer // Theatre Professional // Nerd // Night Owl Inspired by a steady and lifelong infusion of pop culture, comic books, and a vast assortment of films and books, our friendly neighborhood blogger has doomed himself to a life of creative pursuits. There's not enough time for everything, but we all do what we can. Artist: of watercolor, ink, comic illustration, horror/ sci-fi/ fantasy art. Writer: of fictions, tweets, captions & blogs. Lover: coffee, whiskey, wine & beer. Instagram and Twitter as @demipho

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