What does it all mean?
Any of it, I mean. What does any of this come to mean, in the grand scheme of things? IS there a grand scheme to any of what we're going through? I've come to a lot of revelations, over the course of my stay here, in Austin. I've come to realize that one of the things I missed the most...one thing that we could neither of us seem to bring ourselves to do is TALK. Not just talk about the fractured imperfections of our relationship, and the things that we need in order to make it work, we never talked, baby. Never, it seemed. Maybe we talked, but the other person wasn't in a place where they could listen.
This is what I do, when I go out with people, now. This is where I find this basic, visceral connection. We talk. For hours, about stupid things. Problems, and hopes, the future, the past, regrets, good times, bad times, God in the heart of every child, and the Devil behind all of our dreams.
It's what you and Mike do. It's what I do with Kari, or Angela, or Patrick, or Alecia. We talk. We talk for hours, about stupid things. We talk for hours about important things. We never become fixated on the positive, or the negative.
It is what it is, baby. Is that what it means? To take it at surface value, and that's it? To never even bother digging beneath?
Maybe the worst part is, about everything we did to one another that drove us both (singularly and collectively, alike) to this point is....it wasn't so bad. It never was. It wasn't wonderful, don't get me wrong....but neither of us stabbed babies, or buried kittens up to their necks in our backyard. Neither of us hurt anybody (but ourselves, I guess,) or went out of our way to seem like we were just horrible or wonderful people. We were what we were.
Was it that we *couldn't* take each other at face-value? Or was it just that we forgot what the other person looked like, in a way? ....too close to focus, and it all blurred together. I still miss you. I just wonder if I miss you because I miss who and how you are...or I simply miss the simple comfort of knowing how you are (if not who.)
Gah. Enough babbling. I'm off the soap-box. Been a while since I've been up here, though.
This is what I do, when I go out with people, now. This is where I find this basic, visceral connection. We talk. For hours, about stupid things. Problems, and hopes, the future, the past, regrets, good times, bad times, God in the heart of every child, and the Devil behind all of our dreams.
It's what you and Mike do. It's what I do with Kari, or Angela, or Patrick, or Alecia. We talk. We talk for hours, about stupid things. We talk for hours about important things. We never become fixated on the positive, or the negative.
It is what it is, baby. Is that what it means? To take it at surface value, and that's it? To never even bother digging beneath?
Maybe the worst part is, about everything we did to one another that drove us both (singularly and collectively, alike) to this point is....it wasn't so bad. It never was. It wasn't wonderful, don't get me wrong....but neither of us stabbed babies, or buried kittens up to their necks in our backyard. Neither of us hurt anybody (but ourselves, I guess,) or went out of our way to seem like we were just horrible or wonderful people. We were what we were.
Was it that we *couldn't* take each other at face-value? Or was it just that we forgot what the other person looked like, in a way? ....too close to focus, and it all blurred together. I still miss you. I just wonder if I miss you because I miss who and how you are...or I simply miss the simple comfort of knowing how you are (if not who.)
Gah. Enough babbling. I'm off the soap-box. Been a while since I've been up here, though.