How long can you wait before you burst?
One way of looking at it is that we have both built it up in our head so much that reality could never be as satisfying as our dream. Another way of looking at it is that we have infused our relationship with so much meaning that could never be attained any other way. You can’t buy that kind of meaning, or create it just through romantic gestures or words…it is the kind of meaning that is carefully crafted through weeks and months and years. It is the kind of meaning that can only be manifested through doubt and fear and anger and resentment and longing. It is thick with tension and character and flaw and yearning in a way that no simple “I love you”, “I love you too” love story would ever be able to attain. So that’s something. That’s something.
It’s been such a long time since I actually felt like I was “with” someone…like…really, in a relationship. I have felt bizarrely alone in my relationships for so long.
There is no objective good when it comes to sex. Why do guys get all in their head about that? Talking to Bryan he STILL talks about there seems to be some illusive “good” attributed to sex. I don’t understand how our society has managed to manifest this bizarre story. It is purely and simply about the connection between two people. Nothing objective there. I can’t get a single thought through my head, let alone one of judgment during such a thing. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe it’s just easier for me to get out of my head, I don’t know. But we should stop making each other think there is some test to be passed and start just focusing on the moment and the connection between two people. I just wish that anyone would have some understanding or interest in what it is I am experiencing.
I told Jeff about everything I experience with my senses and it just sort of went in one ear and out the other. I guess I thought at the time that it was refreshing that he was just rolling with the punches like it was no big deal. But now I feel like…he just…doesn’t even really care about a word I’m saying. Or what I’m experiencing. Ever.
I felt so bizarrely comfortable talking to Conor about it all back in May of 2013 when I got home from Australia. That was the most bizarre thing. It was really, really difficult for me to talk to anyone about it. Articulate it in any way. Or feel comfortable enough to share it…because I just assumed everyone would think I was crazy. And I’m still confused about how suddenly I was just spilling all of these things. How I keep doing that. I don’t understand where that level of comfortability is coming from.
Well I guess I do. We’ve both got brains that tick in strange places. And I have to keep remembering that we walked through a thousand sacred places together. Through Ms. Ohm and through those laughter drenched days in ’07. Through being 14 years old and 15 years old and all those horrible ages in between. Through his first guitar strums and my first poems. Through each other’s longing for other people. We’ve seen each other at our worst and held each other’s hands through friendship even before there was anything else. With no other motivation other than that we liked each other as people…who we were…at face value. Knowing all the stupid shit we both have done. And I do know him. And he does know me. So it’s not based in illusion for once in my life and and it’s not all projections of who we hope we’d be. And we basically couldn’t disappoint each other more than we already have. We have absolutely been at rock bottom together so there is only up to go. So there’s that. And that’s important. Because every other relationship has been a slow a steady disillusionment process. And that’s not really the same with Conor. Because I have already felt just about everything I could feel for him and been disappointed in a thousand ways for what has seemed like a thousand years. And I still love him. So there’s that.
But I also feel like I have to respect that I don’t know him. That there is so much he has never let me see. There are so many ways he has never let me in. And I respect those things. And I respect that he has grown and changed in many ways in the past few years just as I would hope he respects that I have grown and changed in many ways. And that’s a good thing too. I was baffled at the man I met in May of 2013 when I got home from Australia. Suddenly there was this man in Conor’s shoes staring straight into my eyes and listening with clear intention and standing straight on two feet and holding his body with poise and clarity and confidence. That is the most you could hope for. That someone could grow out and up and in in all the best ways.
And I could never resent our journey…because whatever it is, wherever it’s going…it’s been a beautiful thing splayed out. And we both clearly needed our time separately to grow in those strange and boundless ways. And if we hadn’t hurt each other in the particular ways that we hurt each other, perhaps we wouldn’t have grown in the particular ways that we did. Pruning and shearing.
God dammit I am a horrible person. But I just can’t help my thoughts and I can’t help my feelings and I would never allow these things to breathe if Jeff paid any attention to me. So. That’s how I justify it.
I’d like to think that I’d be ok with my partner longing as well…longing for someone else, longing for freedom…and we could talk about it in a productive and beautiful way. Just because longing is this very essence of the essence of everything. And I don’t know how to live without it either. I don’t know how you make it through a lifetime with one person. I don’t have that answer. Well, I know for me it wouldn’t be very difficult if I was in love with my partner. I never really give a shit about new people…when I’m with someone. Anytime I’m on the dating market it is horribly depressing…and I don’t ever feel like I miss the opportunity to be with some random person. Some random person at a bar means nothing to me. But I wouldn’t have a problem discussing whatever feelings my partner has at any given time. I’d like the level of honesty and lack of jealousy that Bryan talks about with poly…I’ll just take that part out of poly and leave the rest. Compersion. But Jeff is so straight and narrow and entirely unforgiving and I just feel like there is a big block there where we can’t have an honest conversation about anything like that.
When will I have said all that needs to be said? I feel like I’m constantly repeating myself.
By mid-July it’s all just sitting there in front of you everywhere. Just dripping through the trees and singing through the throngs of insect choirs. Hazy balls of life just hang humid in the air and trees just wallow in the majesty of what it is to be full. What it is to be thick with life and strong with color. The sun is just a strange and billowing friend that wanders through the fields with you, just dappling everything in hot love. By mid-July you can just pluck it off the wind in front of you and swallow it whole. It’s everywhere, it’s everything. Just life bounding forward through the entropy of air.