Tuesday (Weekend roundup): San Francisco

I almost didn't make it up to San Francisco on Friday morning. On Thursday night, upon learning that one of the chainrings on Lola was bent and wouldn't shift properly, I was crushed. But I tried to overcome my disappointment, spending some time tending to the Hog to bring him up with me instead (The pleasure of owning two bicycles!). Installing the rear light mount, however, I realized I had put the screw in wrong, consequently stripping and rendering it useless. I got to bed later than I wanted to and felt ill prepared for my trip(s).

Some other things went wrong on Friday morning, but I eventually hit the road, concerned that my anxiety would interfere with certain plans. Attempting a new route up north, I took the 5 to the 152 to the 101, but nearly panicked when I could not figure out if I was on the right highway. A quick stop at a gas station confirmed that I was headed in the right direction, and I was relieved, but for a moment there, I wanted to turn around and go home, three hours into my drive.

Upon embracing Emma in the Mission, all my negative feelings immediately dissolved, and my pleasure was heightened when I successfully fixed the rear brake on her bike (Even with my limited bike mechanics knowledge!). I really enjoy working on bikes and I would like to achieve more experience in doing so so I can eventually work in a shop. I enjoy working with my hands and problem solving. And how neat would it be to be a woman bike mechanic?

We rode around for a little bit and eventually hit up Zeitgeist for some drinks. I ordered a Rusty Nail and the bartender chuckled that he had not made one of those in years. I gave him a large tip for his humor. We sat outside in the yard and smoked a jay, meeting up with Emma's boyfriend and a friend.





The end of our night found us enjoying a home cooked midnight snack and me passing out on the couch (A favorite pastime of mine).

The next day I couldn't decide for a long time whether or not it was going to be sunny. Eventually I slipped the sunshine under my tongue, just as sunset approached.



I need not say more.

I made these.








They are postcards and I will send them to people.

We walked for a long time in the dark and got caught in the pouring rain. We trudged through the storm, but I surprisingly did not mind, nope, not even the hail. We watched The Fall in the dark, an I quietly cried myself to sleep.

On the day of my departure, I rode to my favorite coffee shop in San Francisco to do some writing.

Almost exactly three months since my last San Francisco (Trip), and things make even less sense. I am seated in very nearly the exact same place, only this time with a very different song from my parents' time stuck in my head.

All weekend I hoped for a glance of him, and at one point I might have imagined that I saw him across the street in the Mission while I was on my bicycle. But to be honest, I don't really know if I'd know his face anymore.

I came here this weekend seeking some sort of understanding, and all I really know is that even with my brain twisted in technicolor knots, a deeper animal part of me realizes that "it's over." The urge to call him struck me several times, but I never did. I am finally learning.

I also learned - from several near-tears moments - that I'm still hurting immensely. You might say I've hit a low. This is going to hurt for a long time, and I need to continue to treat myself well. I've also learned the strength of optimism and the gift of friendship I have been blessed with.

Not all fairytales have happy endings. But they do all end somewhere. At the very least I learned that it's okay to believe. True love can and does exist, though its timing may not always be right. It was a beautiful story in a beautifully bound book, and it now sits closed on my shelf.

Last night there were several instances in which I stared into my reflection, and though my pupils were gaping, I struggled to recognize the person smiling languidly back at me. I suppose the person in the mirror was in Transition, straddling two different worlds, about to morph into something else, just as the walls and patterns shifted around me, unfixed.

Maybe this isn't a low, maybe it is a Potential. Maybe I am a wound up spring, and as soon as the time is right, I will release and I will fly so high high high that I may cease to be of this world completely.

Writing March 22 2009

I wept intermittently during my drive home and was devastated all of yesterday, despite an unexpectedly quick (And free!) lunchtime fix-up at the bike shop (Think I finally hammered out all of Lola's kinks! Hah! Get it?). It is becoming clearer and clearer to me that this thing is over and it is time to move on. I have been dealing with this break up for nearly a year now. I understand why it has been so difficult, but every time I come to this point, I let go of a little bit more, and eventually, I suppose, I will be completely free. My trip to San Francisco revealed a few things to me, among those things the true depth of my pain. I need to take care of myself, I need to treat myself gently, I need to let myself cry, I need to be patient, and I really need to surround myself with supportive people.

And I need to remember to remind myself that I will be okay.