"If you aren't able to be used, you're useless": That's one of the best pieces of advice I ever received while I was serving my apprenticeship for funeral service licensure.
Because it's true, after it's done being funny. It's human nature to use, and be used. We come up with nice words for it, such as "trust" and "love", but it's really just a gauge of how far you'll press the needle into your discomfort zone to accommodate the wishes of someone else. The relationship becomes a series of favors, attempting to keep that needle from swinging to hard or too long into our own individual comfort zone, while still making space for it, the next time our lover comes to need us.
So, what is my point?
The point is, I can take a whole lot of suffering. And, I want a whole lot in return.
I said to a friend the other day, "I feel very solulent lately" and that is barely a word, but somehow a complete description of what I am feeling lately. I feel... incorporeal.
Brittle, crumbled, squeezed out like a wash rag and hung over a barbed wire to dry.
I am more attached to the idea of riding out this change, and letting my existence be molded by my environment (at least for a while), than I am to who I have been this past year.
I've been lonely. So, so lonely, and I'm coming up on a year from when L. and I hit rock bottom for the second time. That's been burgeoning on my mind plenty lately.
I think I still love him, but in a sweetly nostalgic type of way. I think I might send him a screenshot of my sobriety counter on 366 days to show him I've really done it, but only to his phone number... no more chasing. I'm moving on from that.
What I'm moving onto, I'm not entirely certain. But I'm saying Yes more often than I say No, and sticking that to the remainder of the year.
Because where's the adventure in saying No?
I think back to before I met E. I dearly wished for more adventure in my life, but I often found myself saying no in the interest of staying in, at home, where I was comfortable and safe.
In just a few months, he's shaken my careful equilibrium up to a catastrophic degree. I'm not saying it's all bad. It's quite unconventional, but when would I have another chance to conduct a character shakeup like this? The road less traveled... of course it's going to hurt your feet.
I made a friend, I took a gamble, I chose the more interesting path... and this world is completely mad anyway... the Plague of 2020 took society down, and what better time to take in a stray than at the beginning of a pandemic? He's not an animal, to be kept caged and awaiting trial for another 11 days. He's a human being, and as fucked up as this world is getting right now, with plagues and tornadoes and hail storms and bad moons rising, he deserves to be out here, living this wild ride with the rest of humanity.
Does he drive me a little bit crazy, to the point of going to have a 3am cigarette through clenched teeth?
Absolutely. But to the point, learning to coexist peacefully with this man-creature seemingly forged from 50% chaos who has taken up shelter in my home... maybe I needed the lesson in patience.
My home was like a mausoleum before. My life was as a ghost's, and I lived to leave the least impression on the creatures and material trappings that inhabited my tomblike space.
To live a life of inoffense is... not-life.
The crows are out today. It's Sunday, and I'm having a cup of coffee on the porch, relishing the relative silence. That, too, is good. To appreciate the calmness in between the moments of chaos.
Because it's true, after it's done being funny. It's human nature to use, and be used. We come up with nice words for it, such as "trust" and "love", but it's really just a gauge of how far you'll press the needle into your discomfort zone to accommodate the wishes of someone else. The relationship becomes a series of favors, attempting to keep that needle from swinging to hard or too long into our own individual comfort zone, while still making space for it, the next time our lover comes to need us.
So, what is my point?
The point is, I can take a whole lot of suffering. And, I want a whole lot in return.
I said to a friend the other day, "I feel very solulent lately" and that is barely a word, but somehow a complete description of what I am feeling lately. I feel... incorporeal.
Brittle, crumbled, squeezed out like a wash rag and hung over a barbed wire to dry.
I am more attached to the idea of riding out this change, and letting my existence be molded by my environment (at least for a while), than I am to who I have been this past year.
I've been lonely. So, so lonely, and I'm coming up on a year from when L. and I hit rock bottom for the second time. That's been burgeoning on my mind plenty lately.
I think I still love him, but in a sweetly nostalgic type of way. I think I might send him a screenshot of my sobriety counter on 366 days to show him I've really done it, but only to his phone number... no more chasing. I'm moving on from that.
What I'm moving onto, I'm not entirely certain. But I'm saying Yes more often than I say No, and sticking that to the remainder of the year.
Because where's the adventure in saying No?
I think back to before I met E. I dearly wished for more adventure in my life, but I often found myself saying no in the interest of staying in, at home, where I was comfortable and safe.
In just a few months, he's shaken my careful equilibrium up to a catastrophic degree. I'm not saying it's all bad. It's quite unconventional, but when would I have another chance to conduct a character shakeup like this? The road less traveled... of course it's going to hurt your feet.
I made a friend, I took a gamble, I chose the more interesting path... and this world is completely mad anyway... the Plague of 2020 took society down, and what better time to take in a stray than at the beginning of a pandemic? He's not an animal, to be kept caged and awaiting trial for another 11 days. He's a human being, and as fucked up as this world is getting right now, with plagues and tornadoes and hail storms and bad moons rising, he deserves to be out here, living this wild ride with the rest of humanity.
Does he drive me a little bit crazy, to the point of going to have a 3am cigarette through clenched teeth?
Absolutely. But to the point, learning to coexist peacefully with this man-creature seemingly forged from 50% chaos who has taken up shelter in my home... maybe I needed the lesson in patience.
My home was like a mausoleum before. My life was as a ghost's, and I lived to leave the least impression on the creatures and material trappings that inhabited my tomblike space.
To live a life of inoffense is... not-life.
The crows are out today. It's Sunday, and I'm having a cup of coffee on the porch, relishing the relative silence. That, too, is good. To appreciate the calmness in between the moments of chaos.