Better When We're Close (Reposition)
Finally, that grocery run. A former workplace with acquaintances on every aisle. Shopping takes less time than catching up with people, and I've had "shopping" sessions last two hours. I've even stayed past closing, checking out groceries with the staff like old times.
Although I know that isolation is my primary need, I'm curious how my interactions with others will play out. Even before entering the store, I chat with former coworkers. Conjuring the conversational prompts, replies, and injections of humor takes more effort but is less laborious. As if my consciousness is shedding layers of dead skin. Saying words out loud strips away the husk of an old identity. Things that once seemed important, that I clutched onto for a decade, flake away and dissolve with conversational exposure. But there's also anticipation for the future.
One of my friends asks my orientation. I laugh. His forthrightness is a relief. "You know," I admit, "it's kind of like when I started working here. There were apparently a lot of people playing guessing games and dropping hints, but I'm completely oblivious to all of it." His friends--who will become my future coworkers--have stated that I will be in the minority. Those friends of his predict that I'll "be busy." I predict that I'll still be oblivious to everything amorous and beyond professional or platonic. I told him, "I'm eager to meet new people and grow," and even as said the words, I'm aware of how I automatically turn these conversations back to something generic, earnest, and seemingly naive.
During these visits to the store, most conversations overlap between people. Another former coworker hitches onto our chat while the first one moves onto tasks. I'm the baton in a relay activity, handed off from one person to the next.
Another worker, wise and warm, also comments on relationships. How is that my love life (or the five-year lack thereof) is becoming a topic of conversation again? I tell him a few short synopses of dates over the past few years and how I'm applying what I've learned from the past, to recognize and not pursue the red flags.
He says, "As we get older, we know what we want and don't want, and we don't have the patience for what we don't want." His words seem simple on the surface but resonate because--until he said them--I didn't realize that this has personally become a guiding principle. "I guess it all depends on what you want and how open you are to what the universe tells you."
"That's the thing," I admit. Another admission. Another large sheath of my past striped away. I'm only fifteen minutes into my shopping endeavors and I'm already unburdening my anxieties over isolation and companionship. A therapy session on the retail-battlefield, in the aisle between dry-produce and dairy. "That's exactly it. I'm opening myself not to another but to the universe." I'm not seeking another but an all. Nothing religious or arguably even spiritual just a sense of place and how I can contribute something positive to that space. If there's companionship I seek, it's with something the flows beneath our collective endeavors, all of which--the totality of humanity and unknown terrestrial history--is only a mote of dust on a wave in the curling cosmic ocean. For too long, I've suppressed the patterns, looked away from coincidences and happenstance. I've pushed meaning to the periphery but I know that life and the human experience is better when the sense of purpose is close.
Cue the romantic music as I hold a wilted flower to the universe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poolside & Brijean - Better When We're Close
[Listen on youtube]
Poolside & Brijean - Better When We're Close
Just outside dreams of you and me
I feel much better when we're close
I guess I waste, but time moves slow
I feel much better when we're close
I can't stop falling for you
Just be mine and I'll wait for you, too
If you want me to
If you want me to
So far apart, I'm lost alone
I feel much better when we're close
I want that high time moves slow
I feel much better when we're close
I can't stop falling for you
Just be mine and I'll wait for you, too
If you want me to
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Although I know that isolation is my primary need, I'm curious how my interactions with others will play out. Even before entering the store, I chat with former coworkers. Conjuring the conversational prompts, replies, and injections of humor takes more effort but is less laborious. As if my consciousness is shedding layers of dead skin. Saying words out loud strips away the husk of an old identity. Things that once seemed important, that I clutched onto for a decade, flake away and dissolve with conversational exposure. But there's also anticipation for the future.
One of my friends asks my orientation. I laugh. His forthrightness is a relief. "You know," I admit, "it's kind of like when I started working here. There were apparently a lot of people playing guessing games and dropping hints, but I'm completely oblivious to all of it." His friends--who will become my future coworkers--have stated that I will be in the minority. Those friends of his predict that I'll "be busy." I predict that I'll still be oblivious to everything amorous and beyond professional or platonic. I told him, "I'm eager to meet new people and grow," and even as said the words, I'm aware of how I automatically turn these conversations back to something generic, earnest, and seemingly naive.
During these visits to the store, most conversations overlap between people. Another former coworker hitches onto our chat while the first one moves onto tasks. I'm the baton in a relay activity, handed off from one person to the next.
Another worker, wise and warm, also comments on relationships. How is that my love life (or the five-year lack thereof) is becoming a topic of conversation again? I tell him a few short synopses of dates over the past few years and how I'm applying what I've learned from the past, to recognize and not pursue the red flags.
He says, "As we get older, we know what we want and don't want, and we don't have the patience for what we don't want." His words seem simple on the surface but resonate because--until he said them--I didn't realize that this has personally become a guiding principle. "I guess it all depends on what you want and how open you are to what the universe tells you."
"That's the thing," I admit. Another admission. Another large sheath of my past striped away. I'm only fifteen minutes into my shopping endeavors and I'm already unburdening my anxieties over isolation and companionship. A therapy session on the retail-battlefield, in the aisle between dry-produce and dairy. "That's exactly it. I'm opening myself not to another but to the universe." I'm not seeking another but an all. Nothing religious or arguably even spiritual just a sense of place and how I can contribute something positive to that space. If there's companionship I seek, it's with something the flows beneath our collective endeavors, all of which--the totality of humanity and unknown terrestrial history--is only a mote of dust on a wave in the curling cosmic ocean. For too long, I've suppressed the patterns, looked away from coincidences and happenstance. I've pushed meaning to the periphery but I know that life and the human experience is better when the sense of purpose is close.
Cue the romantic music as I hold a wilted flower to the universe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poolside & Brijean - Better When We're Close
[Listen on youtube]
Poolside & Brijean - Better When We're Close
Just outside dreams of you and me
I feel much better when we're close
I guess I waste, but time moves slow
I feel much better when we're close
I can't stop falling for you
Just be mine and I'll wait for you, too
If you want me to
If you want me to
So far apart, I'm lost alone
I feel much better when we're close
I want that high time moves slow
I feel much better when we're close
I can't stop falling for you
Just be mine and I'll wait for you, too
If you want me to
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~