He was the greatest - the kindest, the humblest, the most patient... He worked hard - he never stopped working until last year, when he was eighty three. Eighty three!

He was my favorite - the most favorite in the whole entire world. He was the world to me and I adored him. I was his favorite - he loved me like nobody else. Like nobody else he was proud of me.

The endless hours he spent with me, playing games, reading books, taking me to parks, to plays, riding the metro just for the fun of t. He fulfilled every passing whim of mine - he simply worshiped me.

It is so sad to realize that the older I grew, the further apart we drifted. For the past few years i saw him only a handful of times. I missed him, but I am sure he was the one to miss me more...

And now that he's gone... it's hard to really grasp the fact, let alone to reconcile with it. Being so far away makes it that much harder. It's hard to reconcile with the fact that I keep going on, even when this loss does not seem to have an immediate impact on my everyday reality... And yet I go on, knowing that if it weren't for school, if it weren't for the busy and rigorous life that I am in now, I would have fallen apart in million pieces, in a heartbeat. Fallen apart because of grief, because of guilt, remorse and regret.

I could have been there with him. I could have been there for him. There were so many things that I could have done for him, so many ways that I could show him just how much I loved him...

So much pain and guilt and remorse...

My grandfather passed away.

When I saw him in Yerevan a little over a month ago, he told me that it was probably the last time that he was seeing me in his life... It gave me a painful pang in the stomach, as I wiped my tears, trying to shake off the thought of him not being there one day.

I do not know how one reconciles with something like that...

Living with the boy is calm and cloudless. It’s comforting, effortless, idyllic. We do not argue, we don’t fight. We laugh. We laugh often.

…

In a very curious way I find it odd that suddenly even the most mundane and trivial everyday routine acquires such “togetherness…” Only not that long ago, these trivial things were simply something that I would do alone, on my own, in between personal and professional/academic lives. Things like laundry, groceries, cleaning… these little chores that give me so much comfort in their ordinariness, things that I love to do when I need a break, some down time or to simply clear my head. Now they seem to have acquired this sense – a sense that I cannot describe in any other way but “togetherness” even when they are not necessarily done “together.”

…

The only other time I lived with someone was when I was married and that does not evoke the best memories. Sometimes I get these flashbacks, series of flashbacks that throw me into a state of mild panic, before I realize that it is in the past, far removed in the past and just like one shakes off a bad dream, I have to push these memories away, after I have realized that they are no longer real, that they are not happening, that I am safe now, that this is a different relationship where we do not fight and I do not have a reason to slam the door and leave…

…

“So you guys are serious?” they ask me after they find out that the boy and I have moved in together. It cracks me up every time they do. Define serious. And while you’re at it, define un-serious, please. Does the fact that we are living together necessarily guarantee that this whole thing is going to end with a ring, a mortgage and a couple of kids? I do not know that… Do I wish that it indeed ended with a ring, a mortgage and a couple of kids? I do not know that either. And yet, was I any less serious before I moved in with the guy? I would not say so, just like the fact that I am living with him now doesn’t make it any more serious than it was before. I still love him the same, except that now I see him a little bit more often.

It amuses me that suddenly this little fact appears to be such a big deal just because it may be some kind of a cornerstone in some relationship book or another. See, as scary as it sounds and despite my notoriously cumbersome commitment issues, if I were to have it my way, I would be moving in with a guy only after a few weeks of knowing him, my logic being that if I like you enough to want to spend a big chunk of my time with you, I might just as well be living with you. The whole “my place/your place” gets pretty boring pretty fast…

And yet, in reality, I wasn’t to have it my way (perhaps for the better of it) and the boy and I followed each and every “step” of this unwritten relationship book, from nerve-wrecking “undefined” phase to post “i love you phase” one little step at a time…

…

And yet, living together is a big deal, in a sense that does not necessarily involve the aforementioned ring, the mortgage and the kids. It’s just what a relationship is – or what I think it should be – a man and a woman, living together.

…

Living with the boy is nice. It’s comforting. It’s fun. And as much as I resist the idea of matching cups and bath towels, as much as it takes some getting used to, it does not seem to require an effort at all. It makes me realize that despite my experience in the past, it does not always have to be an uphill struggle and that I never ever have to find myself trapped in a situation where the only thing left to do is to break the dishes and slam the door and leave.

Source: Virginia Department of Historic Resources

The boy and I are living in the cutest apartment in the Fan. The Fan! The old, historic and beautiful Fan - the most desired location in the whole-entire city of Richmond, if not the world itself. I am in a close proximity to the best that Richmond has to offer. I am in the Museum District. I can walk to Carytown. I can become a regular at the Racine. Run in pretty neighborhoods. Walk a few blocks over to see a friend and borrow a cup of sugar... And when I have a minute to breathe, I can live the happy and carefree life of an artsy (or should i say nerdy) hipster that I sometimes pretend to be.

I started school.
I need to blog.
I need to see a shrink.

There have been other reasons for putting off writing for so long, besides the fact that since I got back I have been incredibly busy with life, school and a million of little tasks that are not small enough to be completely ignored, but are small enough to be a source of endless frustration because they take too much of my time. My inability to write is also due to the fact I cannot figure out where to start. I simply cannot pick up right where I left off since there has been too much change in a matter of less than a month and the older I grow, the slower I become in responding to change. Yet, the older I grow, the less time I have for such things, and time at this point seems to be a true luxury that I can hardly afford. Oh joys of adulthood. If only I knew that getting older wasn’t simply the thrill of being able to wear makeup and smoke cigarettes…

I still haven’t fully digested the past few weeks that have been happening way too fast. I am still in the process of adaptation. It surprises me that this time it is taking so long. I wasn’t gone for too long, but I guess it has been long enough to make readjusting quite a process on its own. I am still getting used to my new surroundings – new living arrangements, schedule and such. And I still haven’t recovered from the past summer, which made me realize that there are a few reoccurring issues that I do not know how to reconcile with. While in the past I successfully dealt with a load of emotional crap without any outside assistance, I seem to be incapable of dealing with issues that are fundamentally existential in their nature. Hence the necessity to see someone about them. I do not know whether this as a sign of maturity or that of emotional laziness since as cynical as this may sound, I am at a point where I rather pay someone than do it on my own, especially when I no longer seem to have the patience, the energy and or the time to do so alone. Someone told me that it makes me sound extremely American…

On a brighter note – I am really having the time of my life with life, school and ahem, the new roommate situation and if I am not pancaked by the giant steamroller that is graduate level mathematical economics, updates will be coming shortly…