(no subject)
i'll spinning around working with the confusing ideas and confusing emotions.
Had a daydream before of him coming over unexpectedly. Happened tonight. Wasn't prepared. Circumstantially inconvenient. (bullocks!!!) But also confusing. It was a gesture. A nice one. Was glad for it.
But it seemed awkward. Maybe that's just internal.
He knew about the FB post of the argument and my state of desires because of that (to "snuggle under covers and coo authentic compliments; to balance out the karmic scales. and replace my current discomfort at their coldness with some real human warmth"). No snuggling, but the surprise visit was perhaps his concept of sufficient human warmth. Or maybe it was an opening I didn't take. Or maybe I just wish it was an opening I didn't take.
I don't like that I'm even thinking about it.
Can't I just accept it for what it was and not analyze? The analyzing is messy.
I'm just gonna hafta ask.
(esp since, on this day 1 of menstruation, I have always residual skepticism of my ability to correctly perceive and reason as I usually do... I don't like distrusting my brain, even when I recognize it's perhaps best to do so at certain times. It's still incredibly irritating.)
... On a linked note, I have to say that I love the color of the first sign of blood; it's so dark and rich. So easy to imagine the iron and nutrient packed soil of self. Such a fascinating maroon. Not bright red and scary, not like what comes out of a cut, out of veins and arteries, loud and lambrent. But a quiet blood, deep and thickly dark and wealthy, where red begins to fade towards black and bruised purples. Where I both wince and smile at the fertility, and know that I am vouchedsafe in my conscious controlled failures to be a mother, assured and beautiful, a woman weeping red.
Had a daydream before of him coming over unexpectedly. Happened tonight. Wasn't prepared. Circumstantially inconvenient. (bullocks!!!) But also confusing. It was a gesture. A nice one. Was glad for it.
But it seemed awkward. Maybe that's just internal.
He knew about the FB post of the argument and my state of desires because of that (to "snuggle under covers and coo authentic compliments; to balance out the karmic scales. and replace my current discomfort at their coldness with some real human warmth"). No snuggling, but the surprise visit was perhaps his concept of sufficient human warmth. Or maybe it was an opening I didn't take. Or maybe I just wish it was an opening I didn't take.
I don't like that I'm even thinking about it.
Can't I just accept it for what it was and not analyze? The analyzing is messy.
I'm just gonna hafta ask.
(esp since, on this day 1 of menstruation, I have always residual skepticism of my ability to correctly perceive and reason as I usually do... I don't like distrusting my brain, even when I recognize it's perhaps best to do so at certain times. It's still incredibly irritating.)
... On a linked note, I have to say that I love the color of the first sign of blood; it's so dark and rich. So easy to imagine the iron and nutrient packed soil of self. Such a fascinating maroon. Not bright red and scary, not like what comes out of a cut, out of veins and arteries, loud and lambrent. But a quiet blood, deep and thickly dark and wealthy, where red begins to fade towards black and bruised purples. Where I both wince and smile at the fertility, and know that I am vouchedsafe in my conscious controlled failures to be a mother, assured and beautiful, a woman weeping red.