Saudade: Portuguese; pronounced [sɐwˈðaðɨ] (sow-dadj) It means longing of a kind that is not entirely translatable. It is a nostalgia, or a yearning for things, people, places or circumstances long gone. This longing can be tinged with joy or sorrow. Similar perhaps to the German word Sehnsucht.
You know I thought that the passage of time would have a larger affect on a person that it really does. You’d think that the passage of a year would dull the pain of an event to a point that the actual date wouldn’t be so weird when it came around again. Not so. It seems that the strangeness factor of a particular date has to stick to a person’s psyche or subconscious for more than a single year.
On this day a year ago I was subject to the worst shock of my life. The man that I was dating turned out not to be the man that I thought he was. In fact it turned out that he was a liar in a way that I could not forgive him for. It turned out that he had been hiding the fact that he had a disease I will never understand. I will treat it like a disease because I don’t understand it. I get that sexuality is fluid and that a person can be attracted to different kinds of people, sexual preference is a think that is shared between two consenting adults.
Paedophilia crosses that line. This kind of ‘attraction’ confuses sexuality and an obsession with innocence. It violates the one thing that our society holds in high esteem: childhood. It’s taboo for a reason. This day a year ago launched me on one of the hardest journeys of my short life. Do I stay with the man I thought I loved, or do I give way to the taboos and rules of the society that I am part of and leave him to the workings of the government? I felt like the world was against me, and I felt like I had lost something very important to me if not a part of myself.
This is what I have been struggling to write about for months now. And this I fear will be the subject of many an entry here. It is a topic that is so taboo, that no one speaks of it, no one writes about it or the affects it has on the people who are close to those who are possessed by it. I have little compassion for those who succumb to it, but it is still present and frighteningly close to our very front doors. What do you do? What do we do about it? With it? I don’t have the answers, but I think we all need to know more about it since knowledge is the best weapon there is. This is another reason why I need to write about it. Not just to purge my demons.
Ever have dreams that completely and utterly piss you off or seems so real that when youwake up you wonder what the hell happened? Story of my morning. First I get woken up by a goddamn wood chipper of something equally unnecessary at 8am and so I close the window and attempt to get back to sleep. (We had the window open since there was a remarkable tendency for the interior of our room to reach 25 degrees at night with the heat turned off.)
Anyway, it starts out, and our apartment is much bigger, with nice furniture and lots of it and it’s clean because I know John had beennesting the night before. It was morning and I was getting up to feed the cat and I notice that Troy’s laundry is in the middle of the hallway.Ok, so I kick it against his door, no biggie. I go into the kitchen and the counter top is covered in water so I get out the sponge to soak it up and squeeze it out into the sink. The counter though is all bubbly, like it’s actually soaked up the water the way wood does, so I poke at it and discover that someone has hidden bills and some letters from my mother that I have never seen under the actual countertop. So a get all of them out and check all the spaces above the drawers and find a couple more. I think that I am definately going to tell John about that when he comes home. So I feed the cat and I go back into the bedroom to go get my glasses. Now, our bed is right beside a window that looks on a garden full of tulips. There are every color, including a variegated green and I think “Oh, I want some of those for the table.” So I pick up my glasses and I realise that the frame is bent and that the lens of the left eye is cracked and there’s no possible way to wear them. Panic! How the hell am I supposed to do anything now? The bitch woman still has my grant cheque and she wouldn’t give it to me until ‘court’ whatever that meant and even though she knew it’s illegal to do so and I didn’t get paid until a week from today. (Isn’t it amazing how rational and irrational our dreams can be at the same time?) So what do I do? Istart to cry and Troy yells at me from his room to shut up, his guests aren’t happy as it is. Lucky John comes home and sits with me and makes it all seem not so huge a deal.
Thing is, this is the second vivid dream I’ve had about my eyes. The last one was about a persistant blind spot in my left eye. Both dreams were so real I really did feel kind of panicky when I woke up. Mom reminded me last night about the detached retina that was threatening to happen in my left eye the last time I went to an eye doctor and how another sharp blow to the head could make the whole thing come away. it’s only treatable by immediate laser surgery, and my eye doctor, Dr. Chin was kind enough to give me all of his numbers in case of such an emergency ever arose. Mom also reminded me that insurance one gets for traveling won’t cover such an event. Coincidences are one thing, but premonitions are another. I’m feeling a little odd about this whole thing this morning.
(What’s funny though, is that this morning, there was no TP left when Troy had to take a shit. Well! he didn’t pay for it! Teehee!)