With Love and sex and the admission that maybe exclusivity is the best solution after all, comes that horrible demon Jealousy, fed from that little well of insecurity that takes ages to quash utterly, and has a way of popping up at the most insidious times.
Well, this time isn't so much insidious or unexpected, except that I thought I'd mostly moved past it. I guess it's the whole reassurance thing. I'm feeling insecure and stuff, and I ask for reassurance, and it isn't really given. I know it's silly because I'm the one here, with him living with me and sleeping in my bed. Shouldn't that be reassurance enough? Probably. Especially since I know that the capacity to Love is endless.
But I still feel poopy. She's coming to visit, finally. I don't really know when she's arriving, or how long she's staying. Indi professes to not care, seeing as how she's chill and all, and usually I would agree... but I like to know these things. And she's significant. Until I meet her and she becomes a real, tangible person who's energy I can sense and get the measure of, and his reaction to her, the insecurity persists. And the feeling of inadequacy. Is that what it is? A fear of being held up in comparison to a girl by someone that I respect and love, and being found wanting? I guess that is what it is, because I'm crying. He wouldn't want to be forced to choose, he says. Hardly reassuring. Do months of discussions, cuddles, arguments, experiences falter when compared to a few good memories and vibes with this magical girl? I don't hate her; in fact, I'll probably really like her. It's more him, and myself, that are the problem.
I'm so tired of hearing her name.
But I want to meet her, talk to her, touch her.
I don't want it to be a question at all.
But no, I'm needed for the Genesis Device. Because I'm good breeding stock. I'm intelligent, responsible, attractive. And we need to be together for the Genesis Device. So I needn't fear.
I don't just want to be breeding stock. I want a long shared life before and after that, not just because of that.
Not to mention I'm so expressly his. But he's not really mine, I guess. Is he? Is he just an idiot, saying the wrong things because he doesn't realize?
And so the insecurity creeps on, slinking in the cracks.
Bleah.
Lah.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Revolution.
Come on, Love: Bring it on, bring it on.
Even as I sang it, I knew it wasn't the best siren song to be sending out, but I'll never know whether it caught me because it rings true, or whether it rings because I chose it.
Both, probably. In any case, the end result is that I find myself here, as I am, with Life and Love straight up just smacking me across the face. You know, open-handed slap. Not the one that sends you sprawling over on the floor but one that definitely makes you see things differently.
First it was Christian. Yes, back to the boys. Because it's always the boys, it seems... or at least they are what drives me to discuss. Love is all, after all. So the X came, and I pretty much threw myself at him. Then he left, presumably to come back, and into my life sauntered Indigo. And even though I saw the road warning signs, I just couldn't stay away. Still can't stay away. Christian was a long time coming, but Indigo was no time at all because right away something in me recognized him. And he felt it too.
To be fair, he did be good at first. And I always saw that it was there, that potential... and shied away from it. For all of five minutes, in the grand scheme of things. But I saw the crossroads: even while I was on the verge of extending a subtle invite, I saw the potential to pull back... why didn't I? Doesn't bode well for my feelings, is the immediately apparent thought. And once I had opened that door a tiny little crack, it came spewing open uncontrollably. In that hazy space between night and morning, drunk and sober, orgasm and sleep, as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, I suddenly felt a psychic nuzzle and heard a little happy noise, and knew I was fucked. It wasn't me making the noises, but I've made them enough to know what they mean.
And the fog forming on my window
Tells me that the morning's here
and you'll be gone before too long...
No... I'm not going back.
Ah, Indigo. This was just the soul-click. My feeling of doom sealed when I thought back to Christian and my heart still did a little flip. He comes frequently to mind and my love for him hasn't been diminished one bit. This, I believe, is partially due to mistake--no, turning point--number two came to pass. That was the next morning, when somehow Indigo and I had gotten onto the topic of love and I looked at him and said, "No. Love openly and freely: the more you give, the more you have." He looked at me and something changed. Barrier number two was broken. And now we're so tightly woven together it's strange. But he's not the only person I'm woven to, thanks to the shared love. But of course, the realities and frustrations had yet to come. In fact, they still have probably yet to come. But behind the hippie is a hell of a brain, and incredible observational skills. What's more is that he's not afraid to say whatever the hell he's seeing, only he points it out in such a casual unconcerned way that you have to do a double take.
He and Christian are so completely different, it makes it both simpler and harder. They compliment each other well in that each has qualities the other doesn't. And they both drive me insane. Indigo and I get into these conversations, and sometimes arguments, and he makes me rethink things that I take for granted and that other people just accept. Often I'm struck by the fact that he really is older than me in some ways; a thought that I don't have often from maturity alone.
But one of the strangest things about all of this--and yet, what makes the most sense, if only to my sense of hope, although I think it runs deeper than that--is that this thing feels permanent. As in, the thought of years passing, of other lovers and loves, and of all manner of drama in between doesn't even seem daunting because it has already been set. It's already happened, even? I don't know. What's strange is that we even discussed this, long after I'd realized it and admitted it to myself. What kind of strange relationship do we have? Pretty much in the moment but honest about the future. A relationship where we talk about sexual interests and potential loves and actually pursue them. Funny enough, this is when I happen to be reading the Millenium series by Stieg Larsson, where a similar relationship 30 years later is featured. Indigo and I argue often about timing. I believe timing is everything because time means nothing. I don't understand his explanation at all, and can't remember it... which is probably why we argue, heh.
And now, dancing fiend that I have become, I'm preparing to go out and dance some more, this time to a Columbian ska band at a hotel on the edge of the east. After being up at 5 30 this morn' and waking up at 6 30 tomorrow. Should be interesting!
Oh, but how I love to dance, though. Did I mention that's how we connected? And to go dancing with him... First, that he even loves to dance as much or more than I. Second, that he has rhythm and soul.
Heh.
Lah.
Even as I sang it, I knew it wasn't the best siren song to be sending out, but I'll never know whether it caught me because it rings true, or whether it rings because I chose it.
Both, probably. In any case, the end result is that I find myself here, as I am, with Life and Love straight up just smacking me across the face. You know, open-handed slap. Not the one that sends you sprawling over on the floor but one that definitely makes you see things differently.
First it was Christian. Yes, back to the boys. Because it's always the boys, it seems... or at least they are what drives me to discuss. Love is all, after all. So the X came, and I pretty much threw myself at him. Then he left, presumably to come back, and into my life sauntered Indigo. And even though I saw the road warning signs, I just couldn't stay away. Still can't stay away. Christian was a long time coming, but Indigo was no time at all because right away something in me recognized him. And he felt it too.
To be fair, he did be good at first. And I always saw that it was there, that potential... and shied away from it. For all of five minutes, in the grand scheme of things. But I saw the crossroads: even while I was on the verge of extending a subtle invite, I saw the potential to pull back... why didn't I? Doesn't bode well for my feelings, is the immediately apparent thought. And once I had opened that door a tiny little crack, it came spewing open uncontrollably. In that hazy space between night and morning, drunk and sober, orgasm and sleep, as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, I suddenly felt a psychic nuzzle and heard a little happy noise, and knew I was fucked. It wasn't me making the noises, but I've made them enough to know what they mean.
And the fog forming on my window
Tells me that the morning's here
and you'll be gone before too long...
No... I'm not going back.
Ah, Indigo. This was just the soul-click. My feeling of doom sealed when I thought back to Christian and my heart still did a little flip. He comes frequently to mind and my love for him hasn't been diminished one bit. This, I believe, is partially due to mistake--no, turning point--number two came to pass. That was the next morning, when somehow Indigo and I had gotten onto the topic of love and I looked at him and said, "No. Love openly and freely: the more you give, the more you have." He looked at me and something changed. Barrier number two was broken. And now we're so tightly woven together it's strange. But he's not the only person I'm woven to, thanks to the shared love. But of course, the realities and frustrations had yet to come. In fact, they still have probably yet to come. But behind the hippie is a hell of a brain, and incredible observational skills. What's more is that he's not afraid to say whatever the hell he's seeing, only he points it out in such a casual unconcerned way that you have to do a double take.
He and Christian are so completely different, it makes it both simpler and harder. They compliment each other well in that each has qualities the other doesn't. And they both drive me insane. Indigo and I get into these conversations, and sometimes arguments, and he makes me rethink things that I take for granted and that other people just accept. Often I'm struck by the fact that he really is older than me in some ways; a thought that I don't have often from maturity alone.
But one of the strangest things about all of this--and yet, what makes the most sense, if only to my sense of hope, although I think it runs deeper than that--is that this thing feels permanent. As in, the thought of years passing, of other lovers and loves, and of all manner of drama in between doesn't even seem daunting because it has already been set. It's already happened, even? I don't know. What's strange is that we even discussed this, long after I'd realized it and admitted it to myself. What kind of strange relationship do we have? Pretty much in the moment but honest about the future. A relationship where we talk about sexual interests and potential loves and actually pursue them. Funny enough, this is when I happen to be reading the Millenium series by Stieg Larsson, where a similar relationship 30 years later is featured. Indigo and I argue often about timing. I believe timing is everything because time means nothing. I don't understand his explanation at all, and can't remember it... which is probably why we argue, heh.
And now, dancing fiend that I have become, I'm preparing to go out and dance some more, this time to a Columbian ska band at a hotel on the edge of the east. After being up at 5 30 this morn' and waking up at 6 30 tomorrow. Should be interesting!
Oh, but how I love to dance, though. Did I mention that's how we connected? And to go dancing with him... First, that he even loves to dance as much or more than I. Second, that he has rhythm and soul.
Heh.
Lah.
Monday, April 05, 2010
The Missing Month.
March? March? Wherever did you go? February stretched so incredibly long through the Olympics, and now it's April. Eek! And Inga and Jeff are here. As is Jules, for now. Yes, they've moved, and are out (theoretically) looking for jobs as I speak. And I am enjoying the blessed psychic silence and filling the physical one with music. Whee!
At least the next show is at the 340 pub... That's supposed to be enough of a dive that it might satisfy Inga. We shall see. I kind of think that the potential lower tolerance for utter belligerence will probably be good for her.
Mm. The Irish Cream wraps around my tongue and licks its way with tiny flames down my throat. Trance-inducing music. Onto another beat. It's in my throat now, settling down in between my breasts where it exudes and pulls in heat.
Lah.
At least the next show is at the 340 pub... That's supposed to be enough of a dive that it might satisfy Inga. We shall see. I kind of think that the potential lower tolerance for utter belligerence will probably be good for her.
Mm. The Irish Cream wraps around my tongue and licks its way with tiny flames down my throat. Trance-inducing music. Onto another beat. It's in my throat now, settling down in between my breasts where it exudes and pulls in heat.
Lah.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
A Touch of Health
Here I sit, in Modern Brit Lit class. Somebody is eating something that smells delicious, and it makes me hungry. Then again, everything seems to. Perhaps it's because I smoke too much. Although only one type, now!
I've been trying to continue in the vein of my resolution and tread lightly. I did a detox a few weeks ago, and it did me a lot of good. It proved to me that I can indeed eat healthier! But I won't lie and say that it's easy now that I'm off the detox. There's a lot of crap that I get for free, especially at work, and I just can't bring myself to entirely ignore my cravings and deny what I'm offered. This makes it very frustrating to get on what basically amounts to the scale, that is, the Wii Fit. I hate how my weight always seems to spike up and down randomly, and asking you what you think you weigh and asking you the cause of your weight gain. It just puts a lot of focus on my weight, and I miss not having any idea what I weighed... it made me happier and less concerned about that and more so about how I feel about myself.
So after facing irritation and frustration for a few days after I apparently gained 6 lbs in 2 days, I elected to stop doing the daily body tests entirely and just move onto the exercise, which sacrifices my daily 'stamp' (whoop dee doo, I know). It saves me time in the mornings anyways! And I think I'm going to pick up a skipping rope and a weighted hula hoop, and do some on-my-own exercise. Hopefully I've got info coming about the hula hoop.... that's what I'm really looking forward to. That and the 100 jackknives I've been doing a few times a week, including this morning... I'm definitely tired, but in a good way! Hopefully what they say is true and I'll be entirely energized later on. Doesn't matter so much since I'm going home to cook and do homework after school. I'm just waiting for the Rocket to come.
Time is moving so quickly, as usual. The Olympics are now steamrolling over Vancouver and the big purple box of energy is almost fully in place, Reboot-style. I supposed I'm at a mix of excitement and hesitancy for the future to come, coming together in a general appreciation for the present. I'm still waiting for the heinas to come to me... It's happening slowly. But then, has it ever happened any other way? I suppose it has, but since time means nothing it doesn't really matter.
Class is almost over. Onto Spanish, and then Can Lit. I hear food calling my name... but the logistics might be a little strange to work out. But there's no denying: stomach always wins!
Lah.
I've been trying to continue in the vein of my resolution and tread lightly. I did a detox a few weeks ago, and it did me a lot of good. It proved to me that I can indeed eat healthier! But I won't lie and say that it's easy now that I'm off the detox. There's a lot of crap that I get for free, especially at work, and I just can't bring myself to entirely ignore my cravings and deny what I'm offered. This makes it very frustrating to get on what basically amounts to the scale, that is, the Wii Fit. I hate how my weight always seems to spike up and down randomly, and asking you what you think you weigh and asking you the cause of your weight gain. It just puts a lot of focus on my weight, and I miss not having any idea what I weighed... it made me happier and less concerned about that and more so about how I feel about myself.
So after facing irritation and frustration for a few days after I apparently gained 6 lbs in 2 days, I elected to stop doing the daily body tests entirely and just move onto the exercise, which sacrifices my daily 'stamp' (whoop dee doo, I know). It saves me time in the mornings anyways! And I think I'm going to pick up a skipping rope and a weighted hula hoop, and do some on-my-own exercise. Hopefully I've got info coming about the hula hoop.... that's what I'm really looking forward to. That and the 100 jackknives I've been doing a few times a week, including this morning... I'm definitely tired, but in a good way! Hopefully what they say is true and I'll be entirely energized later on. Doesn't matter so much since I'm going home to cook and do homework after school. I'm just waiting for the Rocket to come.
Time is moving so quickly, as usual. The Olympics are now steamrolling over Vancouver and the big purple box of energy is almost fully in place, Reboot-style. I supposed I'm at a mix of excitement and hesitancy for the future to come, coming together in a general appreciation for the present. I'm still waiting for the heinas to come to me... It's happening slowly. But then, has it ever happened any other way? I suppose it has, but since time means nothing it doesn't really matter.
Class is almost over. Onto Spanish, and then Can Lit. I hear food calling my name... but the logistics might be a little strange to work out. But there's no denying: stomach always wins!
Lah.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
My body gets very confused when I dream that I don't sleep. My dreams had a lot of things last night... there were fireworks that I could see from my front porch of Stampede, or something similar. I called Kim and Shawn up to see it but they missed it, and some other stuff hapened with them that I of course can't remember. Then there was teh work part of the dream, where people wouldn't leave work because it was the last day of Stampede or whatever and I was tehre until something like 3 in the morning, trying to close and finish up. It didn't have the desperation of other times that I've dreamt about work and being unable to close though... I was just tired. And then when I was finally finally done I came across Melissa Louette and went to her house to see her... she let me have a shower in her house and I saw her Mum and the handsome repair dude that she was now with... Melissa told me about how she doesn't really like sex and a few other things that we caught up on... we spoke of reading in the shower and I went into the shower to read. She lent me her copy of a Visionary's Handbook, which she had gotten from Chracters and I was surprised because I specifically remember selling it to someone else, so we must have had two copies. When I got into the shower, the drain was closed and I didn't realize it while the shower was on and I was fighting to put up the shower curtain, so the bath filled up and I sunk down into it, looking for the plug. It kept slipping back in and I was afraid the tub was going to overflow, which it did a teeny bit, but I finally got it to stay open and it drained a little. I decided not to read int he shower at all, just to get it over with because I hadn't after all slept all night and wanted to get home quickly to Goddad's house, where he was waiting for me... But I figured her knew I was an adult to wouldn't worry too much. For some reason it seemed to me that Kellin was waiting there too even though we were still broken up, even in the dream. When I finally finished the shower I made my way out to the main entrance and started sorting my way through socks, getting ready to go althugh Meli's Mum was locked in her room with her husband and Meli was nowhere to be found. Then Brian cam,e or called, and offered to buy me a carton of cigarettes for me to do with as I willed as long as he got some, and I thought about it, kne wthat his ocmpany would be paying for it along with the flight home, and regretfully said no even though I was tired and desperately wanted one after all this detoxing. I reflected that the vitamins and healthy detoxing must have been what allowed me to pull an all-nighter with relative ease. Then Kellin showed up somehow just as Meli came back inand I reluctantly introduced her to him as my ex-boyfriend and tol dher that I had to go. She was disappointed, and I was too, and hoped that I could stay and chill but I reminded her that I hadn't slept at all and did need to sleep sometime. I finished putting on my socks--which by the way were the nice dress ones I got for Xmas--and got up to go and then the damned alarm went off and I was left awake and stranded in this dimension for a moment, cursing that I hadn't actually been able to get to sleep in the dream, leaving me feeling tired even though I got a good 8-8.5 hours of sleep.
But now that I'm up and about I do feel better.
Lah.
But now that I'm up and about I do feel better.
Lah.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
A dream.
An odd dream. I had to go back to Charles Perrault for some reason, and there were now Spanish studies going on there. I ended up meeting Dan there, or he came with me, and after all the coincidences it didn't surprise me that his sister/relative went there, and that he'd just finished going there, so we has just that one more thing in common. Many of my friends and people that I'd known there seemed to have younger siblings that were going there and I ended up meeting a whole bunch of people I knew there. The only one that sticks out in my head is Tracy-Lee... it felt like no time had passe dand we all kind of chilled and cuddled and I remembered how much I had missed them, how much we had shared. Of course tehre are parts missing here, but eventually we were in another place, and there was this one girl who didn't like me for some reason and was really upset, but it seemed liek it was over stupidity. Daniel didn't seem to be getting along great with the Charles Perrault people simply because they weren't his crowd and he didn't have the memories that I did. It gets all confused... I remember looking aoutside when we finally decided to leave and it was snowing. I remember separations, divisions... Feeling a bit of jealousy and resignation as he once again disappeared into another room to comfort her, she drew people around her in an effort to get attention or something like that. I remember being unexpectedly accepted by one or many. And hanging back for some reason and looking around and a whole other crowd or older dudes had come in... the older male relatives of whoever's house we were at?
I don't know. It gets all mezclado en mi cabeza.
Lah.
I don't know. It gets all mezclado en mi cabeza.
Lah.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Bah.
Fuck you and fuck the stupid horse you rode in on. I understand busy-ness. But anticipate busy-ness. Explain ahead of time. Don't fucking make plans with someone that you know you can't keep, or keep someone hanging for hours after they find out those plans can't be kept. Because while you might be busy, they might be waiting. They might have been looking forward to it, whether 'it' be five minutes or a whole night.
Even five minutes would have been nice. I anticipated him overbooking himself, like an airplane flight. Of course, I'm holding a ticket but only on the wait list. All I was expecting was five minutes. But after fucking waiting and delaying and spending all that time and effort worrying, I'll be damned if I was going to ask for those five fucking minutes. "Please, even just to see your face? I'm forgetting what it looks like. And I dressed up nice today, I want you to see me with my twists so I can take the damned things out." How lame does that sound? More like "Bite me, asshole."
Arg. He's not even an asshole. He just overbooks himself. I knew that. But I got my stupid hopes up anyways. I want to punch him in the face now. It's stupid but he's also my distraction from the smoking... it's easier to forget about it and the cravings when I'm not home alone and brooding.
I'll get over it. Supposedly he's coming over tomorrow night. Woohoo. Know what that means? That means I have to do all my fucking homework tonight--which I no longer feel like doing because my good mood has been worn down by 20 lbs of new textbooks and a nearly maxed out credit card (to say nothing of him)--or tomorrow morning. And clean the house. Wait, scratch that last one. Fuck him.... why should I bother?
Rocky Horror and margarita time. Maybe a good cry. And early bed tonight. Things will seem better in the morning? I hope so. And I hope it's either stinking busy at work or completely dead. Either way, I just don't want to think.
Lah.
Even five minutes would have been nice. I anticipated him overbooking himself, like an airplane flight. Of course, I'm holding a ticket but only on the wait list. All I was expecting was five minutes. But after fucking waiting and delaying and spending all that time and effort worrying, I'll be damned if I was going to ask for those five fucking minutes. "Please, even just to see your face? I'm forgetting what it looks like. And I dressed up nice today, I want you to see me with my twists so I can take the damned things out." How lame does that sound? More like "Bite me, asshole."
Arg. He's not even an asshole. He just overbooks himself. I knew that. But I got my stupid hopes up anyways. I want to punch him in the face now. It's stupid but he's also my distraction from the smoking... it's easier to forget about it and the cravings when I'm not home alone and brooding.
I'll get over it. Supposedly he's coming over tomorrow night. Woohoo. Know what that means? That means I have to do all my fucking homework tonight--which I no longer feel like doing because my good mood has been worn down by 20 lbs of new textbooks and a nearly maxed out credit card (to say nothing of him)--or tomorrow morning. And clean the house. Wait, scratch that last one. Fuck him.... why should I bother?
Rocky Horror and margarita time. Maybe a good cry. And early bed tonight. Things will seem better in the morning? I hope so. And I hope it's either stinking busy at work or completely dead. Either way, I just don't want to think.
Lah.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Throw Rocks at Them.
Arg. Stay calm. Annoyance is no good reason to get upset. Just chill, keep your cool. The nicotine cravings certainly aren't helping, either. But boys are so STUPID! Okay. It's just annoyance. He's not stupid, just himself and a product of his sex and gender. But I'm tired of hopping around. Maybe just not used to being the less busy one. And certainly annoyed. So he starts early... so no chance of seeing him before. But then wait, he's not going to classes anyways because he's gotta sort out his schedule. So what's that mean? Should I offer to stop by earlier? I already said I'd stop by after class at 4 30. But then, right before he leaves he says he says Oh by the way, "I've got a social to run tomorrow afternoon. But free hot dogs!" What does that mean? Does that mean I can go? Wtf? And then I ask what time it's from and he says 5-7. So... I'll get to stop in for a half hour, less the time it takes me to get over there. Fine... But instead of rushing in and out, wouldn't it be better to stop in before class instead? But he's already gone, with a "Goodnight, love", the first since he got back.
I am Jack's overactive nervous system.
Whatever. I know that I'll be less confused and more able to read what the hell is going on once I actually see him. Likely it's just stress and I'm one more thing to worry about and so backburner. Okay, I can understand that. But I'm not busy and stressed right now, having taken the time to sort out my schedule and shit before classes start. Anyways. Point is, I'm chilled and so have nothing better to do with my mind than think about this shit and think about him. Leading to overthinking, and thus confusion and annoyance.
But I'm trying to still chill. Stay chill. After all, I've got some downtime before the storm, and I'm grateful. I wish for him to have what's best for him, and I wish him peace, too.
Woo. I feel much better now. Which might have something to do with the cigarette I caved and had.
I guess nobody said it would be easy. Relationships or giving up addictions. Or treading lightly, ironically enough.
In any case, bedtime for me. Tomorrow's another day... we'll see what happens.
Much love.
Lah.
I am Jack's overactive nervous system.
Whatever. I know that I'll be less confused and more able to read what the hell is going on once I actually see him. Likely it's just stress and I'm one more thing to worry about and so backburner. Okay, I can understand that. But I'm not busy and stressed right now, having taken the time to sort out my schedule and shit before classes start. Anyways. Point is, I'm chilled and so have nothing better to do with my mind than think about this shit and think about him. Leading to overthinking, and thus confusion and annoyance.
But I'm trying to still chill. Stay chill. After all, I've got some downtime before the storm, and I'm grateful. I wish for him to have what's best for him, and I wish him peace, too.
Woo. I feel much better now. Which might have something to do with the cigarette I caved and had.
I guess nobody said it would be easy. Relationships or giving up addictions. Or treading lightly, ironically enough.
In any case, bedtime for me. Tomorrow's another day... we'll see what happens.
Much love.
Lah.
Welcome to the New Year.
A full moon, and a single bright star shining on the new year. I had a quiet one this year, with Shawn and Kim in Maple Ridge. It was a nice change, and a nice time. To cap off an excellent holiday season, with incredible amounts of laughter, partying, and general love and joy. Surprise? I think not. But made none the less pleasurable for its predictability.
And now, home again, alone again, and naked again. I still haven't unpacked, having elected to sit and watch Becoming Jane, a movie I got for Christmas, instead. The sentimental feelings of the holidays and the resulting etherealness of the time before it have left me conflicted. I want to share the joy and the news and, well, life with him, but the time we spent together before the holidays seems almost like a dream, and the relationship is new enough that the dreamlike qualities undermine my assurance in the security of the thing. So I'm left doubly wanting to reconnect and reaffirm it, but unsure that my anxiousness is reciprocation. And doubly complicated by the idea that even if it's not reciprocated, it may well simply be that his memory is far clearer than mine and so he simply does not doubt. And then the thoughts that perhaps he does doubt and is therefore playing it lightly as I am, and that perhaps I should take the first step in that case, horn in and I'm left feeling quite confused about it all, and with a headache on top of that from the million other possibilties that continue to branch off.
And every time the silly program dings (for another, I might add) I feel momentarily excited and then silly.
But despite all of this, for the most part I'm trying to just chill. Tread lightly, as it were, my New Year's resolution. Patience and all of that... it'll deroule in time. And despite doubts, I have the feeling that it will unfold to other than my worst fears. Worrying helps nothing, in any case. As my plans have only been in my head, it's understandable that others aren't following them. Certain other needs are not at the right time to be fulfilled either, so patience only ensures that the final event will be even more fantastic.
I want to just blow his mind, though. Call it vanity, Emotion, whatever, but I just want to punch him in the face with awesomeness. Or maybe a Sockem' Bopper. Heehee.
But this whole time being all one piece is partially awesome, partially driving me crazy. I think the time-space folding thing allows me to feel parts or whole emotions while removed from the situation simply by allowing me to phaze in and tune in because after all, it's happening all the time, that event. If that makes sense. But at the same time while an event is happening, I can grasp onto it and feel it whole but I know it's fleeting because at the same time I'm tuning into realities where it's not being felt. Which is why it's easy to chill and be patient but at the same time it's the hardest thing in the world.
And my stupid overanalytical brain. Constantly seeking patterns, to the point where I wonder whether it's creating them to fill the need. Choosing most words carefully and absorbing each one that comes in return and then feeding it through lenses and scopes and ideas and points of view.
But now, to bed. What will come will come, and I have plenty to do until it does!
Lah.
And now, home again, alone again, and naked again. I still haven't unpacked, having elected to sit and watch Becoming Jane, a movie I got for Christmas, instead. The sentimental feelings of the holidays and the resulting etherealness of the time before it have left me conflicted. I want to share the joy and the news and, well, life with him, but the time we spent together before the holidays seems almost like a dream, and the relationship is new enough that the dreamlike qualities undermine my assurance in the security of the thing. So I'm left doubly wanting to reconnect and reaffirm it, but unsure that my anxiousness is reciprocation. And doubly complicated by the idea that even if it's not reciprocated, it may well simply be that his memory is far clearer than mine and so he simply does not doubt. And then the thoughts that perhaps he does doubt and is therefore playing it lightly as I am, and that perhaps I should take the first step in that case, horn in and I'm left feeling quite confused about it all, and with a headache on top of that from the million other possibilties that continue to branch off.
And every time the silly program dings (for another, I might add) I feel momentarily excited and then silly.
But despite all of this, for the most part I'm trying to just chill. Tread lightly, as it were, my New Year's resolution. Patience and all of that... it'll deroule in time. And despite doubts, I have the feeling that it will unfold to other than my worst fears. Worrying helps nothing, in any case. As my plans have only been in my head, it's understandable that others aren't following them. Certain other needs are not at the right time to be fulfilled either, so patience only ensures that the final event will be even more fantastic.
I want to just blow his mind, though. Call it vanity, Emotion, whatever, but I just want to punch him in the face with awesomeness. Or maybe a Sockem' Bopper. Heehee.
But this whole time being all one piece is partially awesome, partially driving me crazy. I think the time-space folding thing allows me to feel parts or whole emotions while removed from the situation simply by allowing me to phaze in and tune in because after all, it's happening all the time, that event. If that makes sense. But at the same time while an event is happening, I can grasp onto it and feel it whole but I know it's fleeting because at the same time I'm tuning into realities where it's not being felt. Which is why it's easy to chill and be patient but at the same time it's the hardest thing in the world.
And my stupid overanalytical brain. Constantly seeking patterns, to the point where I wonder whether it's creating them to fill the need. Choosing most words carefully and absorbing each one that comes in return and then feeding it through lenses and scopes and ideas and points of view.
But now, to bed. What will come will come, and I have plenty to do until it does!
Lah.
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