(I feel like this could be the first part of a "friendships (I've) left behind" post. It might be.)
You know what's difficult, in the cold of night (like now, of course)? When I get inside my head and start asking the "chicken or egg" question. Not about chickens or eggs, mind you, but about my own life.
Specifically: am I broken because of the things that I've done, the decisions I've made, the people who've influenced me? Or were they just a symptom of a bigger problem, did they compound a preexisting issue -- is it the things I've done, the decisions I've made, the people I've let influence me (the people whose influence I've chosen to allow) that've broken me?
I was lying in bed last night, not feeling well and having a tough time getting to sleep, and I had the most vivid flash of memory of waking up in the middle of the night in bed with Oz. Which just led to a rapidfire stream of other memories of him. Suddenly, I found myself feeling lonelier than I've been in years, and it took me another half hour to get to sleep. And of course, it wasn't loneliness *for him* that I felt -- but of course, it had to be partly that, it *made* itself that.
And god, believe me, I know better. But it still, everytime, leads to this curiosity, this frenetic wave of need and...yes, desire.
But more importantly, it leads to the questions of how I got involved with him in the first place. How did I get *so* broken at that point in my life that I thought *he* would be able to help? Worse, how did I think he *did* help? That he was so essential to my life that I had to abandon anything and everything I'd ever known to follow him somewhere completely unfamiliar and undesirable?
How did I fall for it over and over again?
And how -- HOW -- is it possible that there's a part of me that actually misses him?
Specifically: am I broken because of the things that I've done, the decisions I've made, the people who've influenced me? Or were they just a symptom of a bigger problem, did they compound a preexisting issue -- is it the things I've done, the decisions I've made, the people I've let influence me (the people whose influence I've chosen to allow) that've broken me?
I was lying in bed last night, not feeling well and having a tough time getting to sleep, and I had the most vivid flash of memory of waking up in the middle of the night in bed with Oz. Which just led to a rapidfire stream of other memories of him. Suddenly, I found myself feeling lonelier than I've been in years, and it took me another half hour to get to sleep. And of course, it wasn't loneliness *for him* that I felt -- but of course, it had to be partly that, it *made* itself that.
And god, believe me, I know better. But it still, everytime, leads to this curiosity, this frenetic wave of need and...yes, desire.
But more importantly, it leads to the questions of how I got involved with him in the first place. How did I get *so* broken at that point in my life that I thought *he* would be able to help? Worse, how did I think he *did* help? That he was so essential to my life that I had to abandon anything and everything I'd ever known to follow him somewhere completely unfamiliar and undesirable?
How did I fall for it over and over again?
And how -- HOW -- is it possible that there's a part of me that actually misses him?