(no subject)
*sigh* Another age
...didn't work out quite as I'd hoped. There's a great divide now, between the two of us. Ah, the joys of free will. I knew this was a possibility. Every bit as much as what I'd hoped for was.
But, yeah, he's with her. And it saddens me, but I'm okay. Yeah, the whole crying thing has come and gone and returns periodically. And, yeah, I've taken to allowing myself to believe in the possibility that maybe there'll be someone else, again, who touches so deeply.
It's happened once before. What seems like an age ago.
I'm not sure if I could read those books again, now. And all to end in two or three odd meetings, with shared, established understanding of the baser nature of things.
At least with him, there was more forthrightness of the understanding of how matters stood between us. Even as free will still stepped in to crush my hopes. But...well...I understand.
I understand why, with each of them. With the last...whom I still converse with in a very sidelong, odd sort of way, when I can bear to reconnect for a moment (nothing's changed, and that's always the first thing mentioned)...well, I can understand not wanting to bring me into all the madness which is his life. It's so far from what I know, and it's not something which could be hopped into and back out of. Sometimes, still, though...I wish he'd put all that to the side in favor of cherishing the gift we've been given--especially recognizing it, acknowledging it. But there are certain other reasons, too. It's really fairly self-sacrificing, the way he considers it. Despite that...yeah...well, there's only ever one chance to go through certain motions. (Not true, mind you. But what do I know?)
I think there's a lot of fear there, too.
As is/was a major factor with this fellow. Hit the ground running.
I don't chase.
But he loves her. And that's well enough, yeah. I fancied myself magnanimous enough as to want to be fully happy for them, if that's what he ended up choosing.
Yeah. Well. I suppose, to an extent, I can't but be--we all cling most ardently to the lessons we most need. I had just really hoped, given a good portion of what he'd said in certain moments...that he'd gotten past that one.
No. Not so much.
I wanted to learn appreciation. I went out in search of that, foremost, in 2002.
And, now, how is it that I should learn it to such an extent that I realize just how precious these opportunities are?...and yet, these men...so much more worldly, more experienced...more professedly desiring of open understanding and acceptance and of possessing appreciation...are so able and willing to let it go to naught?
I don't get it. I don't understand it. Tears do nothing to shed light nor offer peace and solace. They just fall...
But it's okay. I have me, now. Again. Still fading in and out a little bit, but moreso in than out. And I have some vital connections with others...and joy in the passage of social communion. These things sustain me.
Love is never enough, on it's own. No matter how very true and deep and vital a connection, it seems...still not enough.
In lieu of completely letting myself be and letting it be, I have made a couple of attempted romantic forays, these past couple months.
The first, an act of willfulness which I couldn't follow through with.
Guy I've found attractive for months, just appreciating the view. Went home with him.
I couldn't do it.
Anything, really.
He kissed me and it made my heart ache. It wasn't the right kiss.
Not the right lips on mine.
And I couldn't continue.
I'd had to force myself to do what I did in February, out of sheer frustration with the situation. No use wondering on "what if I'd not?"
But I didn't repeat that mistake.
It was awkward the next few times I ran into him, but he seems okay with things now. Is a nice guy, yeah.
Then there was Tuesday. Guy who effectively helped me pass my Comparative Religions final on Zen, back in May, having spent time in a Zen monastery and willing to discuss it with me at length. I've spoken with him a number of times since.
He's a nice enough guy, I think.
Made out with him for a good long while. Yeah. Lost myself in it (got hella more drunk, this time)...more or less. Despite that this all went to pass in the parking lot of the place where the one whom I'd rather have been..
..eh. It kept crossing my mind. Thinking the car may've been parked so as to be visible from inside. Wondering...
Eh.
I don't know. It was enjoyable. And he's nice enough, but there's not that moment of "YES!! I know exactly what you mean!" nor the alternating moments of "Well, hell! I never friggin thought of that--explain more!!"
No, just simple conversation. Without deeper connection. No vital connection. No shared language. No challenge to truly step up and be myself. No challenge likewise issued, either.
Because I don't recognize him, like that.
I can see him in front of me, feel him there...but I don't see HIM. I can deduce, yes--well and good. But not the same.
I HAVE to remember the distinction, because I DO NOT want to go back to that. Knowing now that there's a wholly vital difference.
I think I used to feel that with John, too, though. But I'm no longer sure.
It's been too long away...and we've spent too much damned time purposefully hiding ourselves from one another.
Time to get busy, again, then. Yes, indeed.
For love of myself and my partner, whoever he ends up being.
...just so long as it's true.
...didn't work out quite as I'd hoped. There's a great divide now, between the two of us. Ah, the joys of free will. I knew this was a possibility. Every bit as much as what I'd hoped for was.
But, yeah, he's with her. And it saddens me, but I'm okay. Yeah, the whole crying thing has come and gone and returns periodically. And, yeah, I've taken to allowing myself to believe in the possibility that maybe there'll be someone else, again, who touches so deeply.
It's happened once before. What seems like an age ago.
I'm not sure if I could read those books again, now. And all to end in two or three odd meetings, with shared, established understanding of the baser nature of things.
At least with him, there was more forthrightness of the understanding of how matters stood between us. Even as free will still stepped in to crush my hopes. But...well...I understand.
I understand why, with each of them. With the last...whom I still converse with in a very sidelong, odd sort of way, when I can bear to reconnect for a moment (nothing's changed, and that's always the first thing mentioned)...well, I can understand not wanting to bring me into all the madness which is his life. It's so far from what I know, and it's not something which could be hopped into and back out of. Sometimes, still, though...I wish he'd put all that to the side in favor of cherishing the gift we've been given--especially recognizing it, acknowledging it. But there are certain other reasons, too. It's really fairly self-sacrificing, the way he considers it. Despite that...yeah...well, there's only ever one chance to go through certain motions. (Not true, mind you. But what do I know?)
I think there's a lot of fear there, too.
As is/was a major factor with this fellow. Hit the ground running.
I don't chase.
But he loves her. And that's well enough, yeah. I fancied myself magnanimous enough as to want to be fully happy for them, if that's what he ended up choosing.
Yeah. Well. I suppose, to an extent, I can't but be--we all cling most ardently to the lessons we most need. I had just really hoped, given a good portion of what he'd said in certain moments...that he'd gotten past that one.
No. Not so much.
I wanted to learn appreciation. I went out in search of that, foremost, in 2002.
And, now, how is it that I should learn it to such an extent that I realize just how precious these opportunities are?...and yet, these men...so much more worldly, more experienced...more professedly desiring of open understanding and acceptance and of possessing appreciation...are so able and willing to let it go to naught?
I don't get it. I don't understand it. Tears do nothing to shed light nor offer peace and solace. They just fall...
But it's okay. I have me, now. Again. Still fading in and out a little bit, but moreso in than out. And I have some vital connections with others...and joy in the passage of social communion. These things sustain me.
Love is never enough, on it's own. No matter how very true and deep and vital a connection, it seems...still not enough.
In lieu of completely letting myself be and letting it be, I have made a couple of attempted romantic forays, these past couple months.
The first, an act of willfulness which I couldn't follow through with.
Guy I've found attractive for months, just appreciating the view. Went home with him.
I couldn't do it.
Anything, really.
He kissed me and it made my heart ache. It wasn't the right kiss.
Not the right lips on mine.
And I couldn't continue.
I'd had to force myself to do what I did in February, out of sheer frustration with the situation. No use wondering on "what if I'd not?"
But I didn't repeat that mistake.
It was awkward the next few times I ran into him, but he seems okay with things now. Is a nice guy, yeah.
Then there was Tuesday. Guy who effectively helped me pass my Comparative Religions final on Zen, back in May, having spent time in a Zen monastery and willing to discuss it with me at length. I've spoken with him a number of times since.
He's a nice enough guy, I think.
Made out with him for a good long while. Yeah. Lost myself in it (got hella more drunk, this time)...more or less. Despite that this all went to pass in the parking lot of the place where the one whom I'd rather have been..
..eh. It kept crossing my mind. Thinking the car may've been parked so as to be visible from inside. Wondering...
Eh.
I don't know. It was enjoyable. And he's nice enough, but there's not that moment of "YES!! I know exactly what you mean!" nor the alternating moments of "Well, hell! I never friggin thought of that--explain more!!"
No, just simple conversation. Without deeper connection. No vital connection. No shared language. No challenge to truly step up and be myself. No challenge likewise issued, either.
Because I don't recognize him, like that.
I can see him in front of me, feel him there...but I don't see HIM. I can deduce, yes--well and good. But not the same.
I HAVE to remember the distinction, because I DO NOT want to go back to that. Knowing now that there's a wholly vital difference.
I think I used to feel that with John, too, though. But I'm no longer sure.
It's been too long away...and we've spent too much damned time purposefully hiding ourselves from one another.
Time to get busy, again, then. Yes, indeed.
For love of myself and my partner, whoever he ends up being.
...just so long as it's true.