Oh Belly of Mine

They were setting up for some sort of party downstairs and outside but I had no clue what it was all about, cluelessness being my default state in the resort.

Managed to get restocked on 7-11, my default drink and then wrote the blog, added a bit to the outline of the PI novel and read a bit in the fading sun. A bank of heavy clouds had moved in and greyed out the beach but I hoped it would clear enough for me to see a great sunset. Alas. No.

Went for supper and, bravely, took a picture of the cool waiter so Sheila wouldn’t hit me when I got back.

Firs t time I overate, though.

I had been wondering why on earth the city known for its HUGE shrimp fleet hadn’t managed to get any shrimp into the resort.

Well, tonight they did and I dined in shrimpy hell. I spooned myself a huge, heaping plate of fresh shrimp cooked in butter and a tasty variety of vegetables. There were so many shrimp, in fact, that it took me 20 min to de-skin or de-shell or whatever you do to the crackly outside coating. But man, the shrimp, oh my goodness yummy. I ate the plate with cauliflower and rice with beans. And 2 glasses of wine.

Now that should have been enough but no, there were plates of shrimp and spaghetti waiting for me and so I gave in to the evils of overindulgence and piled it on. Plus another 2 glasses of wine.

So good. So very good. Plus, after 4 glasses of wine, I was feeling no pain. Amazingly, I can now sit across from that empty chair and not have to fight back tears. It had become normal. Not acceptable, perhaps, but normal. A first for me here.

Maybe now I will be able to do things that I have been avoiding back home. I’ve been putting off doing things like getting rid of Margot’s clothes or her medications or even her pooh shoes because I greatly fear that, inch by inch, she is being erased from this world.

The feeling started when I was getting some of the paperwork done, credit cards in my name, bank accounts sorted out, government ID cancelled. No one cared that she had died. My lovie. My sweetie. To them, they just hit delete and she was gone. All her information. Gone.

And I fucking hated it,

Therefore, to begin to donate Margot things seemed to be like erasing her existence. Not logical perhaps, but a powerful feeling nevertheless. She deserves not to be forgotten, not to be deleted like her life meant nothing.

Now, however, I hope that when I get back, I can start this process without it being about removing Margot from my life any more than has already happened. Oh, my, it won’t be easy but if I can sit and look at an empty chair, take a walk by myself along the beach, hell, go on an all-inclusive vacation alone, maybe, just maybe, I can get this done as well

I may need a bit of help, though.

So, not a bad day today, even if the jet ski guys never showed. Tomorrow, I will either go back into town to see the aquarium and chance a walk around the old town again or try and track down those jet ski dudes then go for a horse ride on stone island. I think learning to ride a horse might be something cool to do when I get back. You never know when that’ll come in handy.

nite