The Light of 2016 (non-fiction)

      For many of us, this past year was a difficult one. It seemed like from the beginning of the year, people who moved us so deeply began to pass at a rate that seemed faster than ever before. There was the American election as well, one that seemed to be far more vicious and anxiety inducing than anything many of us have ever seen before. There was so much pain and hate just here in North America, not to mention Aleppo or anything else that happened this year like Brexit.

      There's so much to be said about these things, so much that could be said, and I've tried time and time again to be able to post something addressing them, but they are always inadequate. Instead I focused my writing mostly on heartbreak and loneliness, things I know so deeply from years of experience, and things so intensely personal that it's almost impossible to be wrong about them. 

      And on those fronts especially, this past year has been hard on me. When it began, I was still getting over my previous relationship, which can be a very long process for me, usually riddled with all sorts of self-delusions tied to new affections. Then the summer came and I found myself returning to my childhood home with the plan to never return as a student back to Bishop's University. 

      But the problem with returning, one that I had dealt with in my many visits, was that I was detached from life there. I barely spoke to anyone I had considered my friends in my days of living there, and just the change from Bishop's life to life there was a shock enough on its own. So I felt terribly alone. I felt like I belonged there, like it was home, but that home had become nothing but a graveyard, where I could walk through and see the memories etched into stone, their substance buried below. And in that graveyard, I started to lose my mind.

      But there is always hope. This was also the year when I joined a chapel choir and started regularly attending services at the campus chapel. They welcomed me with open arms and would in time teach me what it means to be a loving person. I also performed a song at a show with only a piano accompaniment for the first time since high school. I became involved with the Gender Equity center at Bishop's, among other things. 

      And this summer was the summer when I worked as a gardener for the Canadian Wildlife Federation, something that helped me cling to sanity a little longer. For all the people I met there, from the interns to the full-time staff, I am deeply grateful I got the chance to meet them. I joined a book club, and attended many write-ins for NaNoWriMo in November. 

      Speaking of Nanowrimo, I completed it three times again this year, in April, July, and November, and although there were some points where I was really not happy with my story, I got through it and am now maybe 25,000 words away from completing the first draft of the "Escape from Dreamscape" trilogy.

      And besides that, I ended up being very wrong about my future at Bishop's, as now I am poised to return in January doing the graduate level micro-program in Climate Change that they are starting up. I'm excited to learn what I can so I can do what I can to combat the problem.

      Anyways, I wanted to write this as I usually do write a post on the 24th about the yearly anniversary of this blog, but I didn't want to simply recap it as usual. It's so easy to dwell on the bad things in life, and I am guilty of this. I have lingered so much on all the times I didn't love enough, all the times I didn't listen enough, all the times I failed others and myself. But it's hard to move forward when all you can see is darkness. But with just a bit of light, it's a lot easier. And, strangely enough, often you can be that light if there's nothing else there. 

      So let's learn to say goodbye to living in the darkness and let ourselves ignite with light for the coming year. Take care. Until next time,

-Zero

Across a crowded room (poem)

I wanted to sit somewhere else,

even just across from this spot,

so I would have my back turned to you,

instead of a direct view of you across.

I want to turn my back on us,

instead of watching our story play out

in the empty crowded space between us,

in the moments our eyes meet and look away.

I want to forget our history,

our love intertwined with song,

our duet, our musical interludes,

our screams harmonized with hate.

I want to be anywhere else,

instead of here missing you.

-Zero

Winter feels like home (poem)

I

Winter feels like home,

the biting cold,

the snow pelting my face,

the early nights and late mornings,

the quiet of the cold,

the isolation of the wind.

II

Maybe winter feels like home

because I'm at home in heartbreak,

in those cold blistering nights alone

spent wandering the city,

revisiting the places we had been,

finding solace in the empty streets

because the one person I want to see

won't even look at me,

so I'd rather just be invisible.

-Zero

A Quiet Hum (poem)

I wanted a new story,

but instead I got a quiet hum,

that moment when you finish a book

that had gripped you so entirely

and immediately reach for the next,

only to look at the promise of its cover,

and put it down with the rest.

-Zero

A Place for the End (poem)

The nurse leads me by the hand,

supports my weak slow steps,

and guides me to my guest room,

a bed and a bathroom.

Years glued to screens and sheets

stuck thick glasses over my once-good eyes,

and all that time bent over a notebook

left my back sore and hunched.

The room is nondescript,

white walls, pale bed sheets,

its walls bare and unoccupied,

everything in order and cold.

I was a ladies' man,

flirting was second nature,

but for all the loves I've had,

now I am alone.

I smile sweetly as I remember them,

of the nights we shared

wrapped up in each other,

whispering our plans for forever.

I watched them fall in love,

I watched them get married,

and I watched them have children,

while I watched myself grow old.

I remove my glasses and lie down,

the bed welcoming and unfamiliar.

I close my eyes for the last time,

and think of how lovely this place is.

-Zero