And all the roads we have to walk are winding. And all the lights that light the way are blinding
I suppose it has something to do with my dreams last night, but I’ve been thinking a lot about Dustin today. Not in a psycho-still-in-love-with-the-ex kind of way, just with a natural curiosity as to his state of being. I wish it wasn’t so awkward of an idea to say "hey, let’s get together for dinner" but I am not sure we were ever quite like that. Anytime we got together pre or post break-up, we generally couldn’t control our libidos. It’s all moot as I have no way of contacting him anyway.
I am sure all of my intentions are not pure and on some level it involves a selfish longing for reassurance or something. As if getting together with him would be like a child showing his parents a straight-A report card. Hmmm... maybe that’s not the correct analogy. It’s just been so long I would get a natural high from hearing what he’s been up to and having him genuinely interested in what’s been going on with me. Not to say I don’t have people already around that care and listen.
I already made the funny observation that from one point of view, I always have a spiritual crisis right around the time my heart gets broken. Of course, my relationship with Dustin somewhat destroys that theory. But, I feel like I am seeking comfort the past 24 hours and he was always a good one for providing that.
I wish I had a car for the sole reason of being able to drive up to Hunters. Not that I’d want to go there for the single purpose of stalking him out. I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery for one night. Chances are he’d be chained to his boyfriend and elusive as always anyway.
That is, unless I looked especially attractive. He was always a sucker for me when I’d look exceptionally good. Like the little puppy that follows you around. I used to adore that reaction from him... of course, it could have just been the power trip it gave me.
I guess an interesting question to ask would be if other people play roles in an individual's search for identity. Would he be considered a part of my identity?
I remember the days all too well when I thought he was the last person I’d ever date. Crying in the most inappropriate places over our break-up. Now all the pain has gone away and I have only sincere fondness for the memories (and a tad bit of embarrassment as I always say).
I’d group him into that category of ”he’s probably busy”. I’ve got several friends I rarely talk to and always say that. The idea of it manifests into this "inaction" of sorts where we decide to lose contact over "bothering" the person. Ships that pass in the night.
Twain wrote several essays on this theory he had about Mental Telepathy and how often he’d write someone he hadn’t talked to in ages, only to have his letter cross theirs in the mail. He found it to be such an interesting phenomenon that he would test it by writing letters, and then not sending them just to see if the very action of writing the letter provided the same result of receiving a letter in return. Eerily enough, it did for him.
So, I guess I could test his theories in the modern world and see what happens. Of course, have I really had much triumphant change in my life to warrant a "catching up" of any sort.
Such trials I create.
I am sure all of my intentions are not pure and on some level it involves a selfish longing for reassurance or something. As if getting together with him would be like a child showing his parents a straight-A report card. Hmmm... maybe that’s not the correct analogy. It’s just been so long I would get a natural high from hearing what he’s been up to and having him genuinely interested in what’s been going on with me. Not to say I don’t have people already around that care and listen.
I already made the funny observation that from one point of view, I always have a spiritual crisis right around the time my heart gets broken. Of course, my relationship with Dustin somewhat destroys that theory. But, I feel like I am seeking comfort the past 24 hours and he was always a good one for providing that.
I wish I had a car for the sole reason of being able to drive up to Hunters. Not that I’d want to go there for the single purpose of stalking him out. I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery for one night. Chances are he’d be chained to his boyfriend and elusive as always anyway.
That is, unless I looked especially attractive. He was always a sucker for me when I’d look exceptionally good. Like the little puppy that follows you around. I used to adore that reaction from him... of course, it could have just been the power trip it gave me.
I guess an interesting question to ask would be if other people play roles in an individual's search for identity. Would he be considered a part of my identity?
I remember the days all too well when I thought he was the last person I’d ever date. Crying in the most inappropriate places over our break-up. Now all the pain has gone away and I have only sincere fondness for the memories (and a tad bit of embarrassment as I always say).
I’d group him into that category of ”he’s probably busy”. I’ve got several friends I rarely talk to and always say that. The idea of it manifests into this "inaction" of sorts where we decide to lose contact over "bothering" the person. Ships that pass in the night.
Twain wrote several essays on this theory he had about Mental Telepathy and how often he’d write someone he hadn’t talked to in ages, only to have his letter cross theirs in the mail. He found it to be such an interesting phenomenon that he would test it by writing letters, and then not sending them just to see if the very action of writing the letter provided the same result of receiving a letter in return. Eerily enough, it did for him.
So, I guess I could test his theories in the modern world and see what happens. Of course, have I really had much triumphant change in my life to warrant a "catching up" of any sort.
Such trials I create.