this morning was bridge pedal. I've wanted to do it for years but I've never had a bike. they close the bridges down, a few at a time, and you get to bike over them! most of them I had already biked over, but during bridge pedal you get the opportunity to cross two highway bridges that are usually inaccessible to pedestrians.
it has been the hardest two weeks I can remember, and in particular the hardest last several days. this morning I awoke at 5:32, unable to sleep anymore, having slept fitfully for only about four hours. I woke from a bad dream involving a certain someone. I felt sad and sick from exhaustion. I might have gone back to bed, but bridge pedal is on the list, and only happens once a year, and besides, if I don't get out there and do things with my life instead of wallowing, then I've learned nothing from all this suffering and it is all in vain.
so, I picked up my bike (it was at the opera) and biked to the start of the ride:
the longest ride, ten bridges, was 36 miles. no sweat, right?
top of the marquam bridge, one of the highway bridges.
I had grabbed my camera to take the above picture when two guys next to me said, "we'll take your picture if you take ours!" so of course I had to oblige.
st. johns bridge.
the view from the st. johns bridge.
the bike up the fremont bridge, the highlight of the bridges in my opinion. maybe because my emotions are right on the surface these days, I actually choked up a little as we got to the top.
the city, seen from the fremont bridge. views from these bridges seem so alien; all the other bridges are familiar to me, having crossed them so many times. I drive across the fremont bridge on occasion, but not the same way I use the others.
BIKING DOWN THE HIGHWAY THIS WAS THE BEST PART. I didn't expect it to be the best part but it was a total thrill to ride bikes down the freeway! it is a great place to ride a bike when there are no cars around! plus the hill on the way down the fremont bridge is SO MUCH FUN.
so, I survived the ride. it was touch and go, to be honest. there were several hairy miles between miles 25 and 30 where I truly thought I was going to have to pull over and puke on someone's front lawn. I was so tired I thought I could also probably curl up on the side of the road and fall asleep. it occurred to me as I was struggling through those miles that if I couldn't begin sleeping or eating normally in the next few days, I was going to end up in the hospital. this is not hyperbole -- it felt that bad. and things have been that hard.
how I am: continuing to struggle. I moved out of a certain someone's place on friday, one of the longest hardest days in a very long time. because I couldn't move into my new place until saturday -- yes, by some miracle, I secured a new apartment -- I slept on my friends' couch friday night. yesterday was the move. you know how moving is. I ended up moving about 95% of the things I had in storage to the apartment myself, because I
last night, alone in a foreign apartment with all my belongings -- so many belongings, after having so little of my own stuff at scott's -- I felt overcome by feelings of terror and loss. I kept finding myself thinking, why am I in this place? I should be at his house, what is this, why am I here? I wished I had smuggled out a blanket of his to wrap myself in. I wanted desperately to call and talk to him, to see how he was, to be comforted. he was having a birthday party, which it felt devastating not to attend.
alone with my fatigue and my fears, the monsters in my brain have been crawling all over everything, saying terrible things like he probably never loved you and he's probably having so much fun without you that he isn't thinking of you at all and I bet the other girls are all over him right now. no amount of trying to reason with these monsters helped last night, and it was too late to call any friend and ask for encouraging words. these feelings felt like a knife in the gut, like a cancer. no way to eradicate them. finally, in desperation, I sent scott a message. please, just one kind word would help me, I said. as I waited in fearful hope for a response, I put out an emergency cry to the universe, a prayer directed at whatever benign force may or may not be out there. suddenly I remembered all the wonderful mornings we have spent curled up into each other, and the monsters subsided a little. a few moments later, he obliged my request for a momentary kindness. this might be magical thinking, but I'll take it.
internet, somehow I have to start taking care of myself, despite wanting so much to take care of him. his absence -- we have agreed to mostly not talk for awhile, in order to get some space and perspective -- is like a gnawing void. right now there is not a moment I don't think of him. this morning I was watching a tv show and kept thinking, that looks like such fun, we should do that before remembering: it's just me now, whether I like it or not. it is so hard. there are no words for it.