Greetings from the din (cleverly hidden in touristy winter wonderland)

I'm writing this from the top of a famous mountain in a very cold state. People come here to ski and hang out at apres-ski bars with names like The Matterhorn. The culture is so fascinating--so many middle-aged people who pretty much ski for a living. I never thought I would be dating (dating? or whatever it is) one of these people, or anyone who knows how to snowboard or do anything physical for that matter. The most physical activity choad did was carry his assortment of pansyass persnickety groceries into the house or move his stupid computer from one room to another. I am not skiing, but I did meet a lot of very kind, rather leathery skiiers this weekend at the bar after they skiied all day while I read, slept, and watched HBO at this amazing vacated house which is owned by the carpenter's loaded uncle. The evenings have been spent in the hot tub outside looking at the gazillions of stars, feeling lucky to be human.

The carpenter is leaving tomorrow for his homeland, which means I'll probably be ending my second postchoad relationship. It's ok. It's all just practice anyway. By it I mean life. I can't imagine living with this person or even calling him my boyfriend, because we've never had any future in what we have. The thing is, there isn't any future in anything anyone has, because the future doesn't exist. I spent most of my twenties talking about it and planning it and it was all a big joke. I don't mean that in a cynical way--I just mean it in a regular way. I'm so sick of living in the past and the future. I'm more interested in now now now. That's been the best part about being with the carpenter (well almost the best thing)--it has forced me to stay completely in the present. Tomorrow he gets on a plane and then I have no idea. Will we email each other? Maybe. If I feel like emailing him. Will I call him? No, probably not since he's getting rid of his phone. Will I see him when he comes back next month to do something complicated regarding his citizenship? I don't know. If I feel like it. If he feels like it.

Don't get me wrong--I'm going to miss him. I can anticipate that. I feel sad that he is leaving because we're just starting to become friends. I know that in a year he will most likely come back for good, but I don't know where I'll be or what I'll want by then. I'm writing all of this stuff about the present like the good little buddhist I'm starting to become, but just last week I was freaking about my feelings for him--feelings that sometimes border on the L word. And then right before I left for this heavenly place I told my roommate that I don't really like him and that I was looking forward to having my life back when he left. So this is why I can't focus on how I'm going to feel in a month or a year--my feelings are very tidelike right now. Are always very tidelike actually, depending on which of my inner beings is in charge. Having this sort of love relationship also unearths all of this ancient archetypal crap in me as well. If you could look inside me right now, you would probably see Psyche and Aphrodite in a huge shrieking cat fight while a weird little girl rocks back and forth trying to tune it all out. And Eros--I won't even go into that. Probably a few fifties housewives in there too, vaccuuming. It's hard to hear what's going on under all of this din. Actually, the din is what's going on. I'm just trying to live within all of the noisiness. It will be still soon enough, I anticipate.

Ok, I'm going to go take my meds now.