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greenstorm...is that I am far too much of a pessimist. Things always, always turn out better than I expect, or when they don't, it's not a big deal.
There's something about this that hurts me, that makes me feel a little bit broken. I expect to be hurt a bunch, and instead, I really am not. I expect people to turn out bad once in awhile, and yet I've never been treated particularly badly, and never maliciously. Instead the world just keeps giving and giving, wonderful people and amazing opportunities, and I don't know what to do about it. There are so many people I love, so many people that are wonderful. Many of them get left behind due to tiny discrepancies in inclination combined with a simple limitation on time and ability. They go on and live their lives, happily and well, and we never intertwine much.
And you sort of look around and you say, what is the point of this? How can so many beautiful, wonderful things be given to me? How can I have grown so much, to recognise these things now and not throw them away as I did before? Where is the catch, or if there is no catch... what can I do? Where is the reciprocity in this? Where is the release, the vent for so much *good* and *joy* and *selfness*?
After Tuesday dinner which turned into Thursday night orgy-lite which turned into Friday morning ladies' breakfast, I was the last to leave Piotr's. We'd swapped life stories, as was appropriate at that juncture, and I said: you know, I don't know what to do. There's no drama here. I love you, this was awesome, and I'm gonna head off now, but I feel like we need to have some sort of weird emotional drama. And we didn't. And so I've got anothe rperson in the world that I care for, that I don't overstep boundaries with but with whom there is something very good. And the list goes on.
And I'm learning, here, that love is not a difficult thing. Not even usually. Love is simply the element in which we move but pervasive to the spirit and the soul like air is pervasive to the body. Love is not a matter of posession, although it can be. It's not a matter of sex or attraction, although it can be. It's not a matter of protectiveness, although it often is. It's a matter of joy in another, although that is not all, or even usually, the sum of it. Love is a natural response to humanity like sweat is a natural response to warmth. We choose what to do with this response-- to wear another sweater,\ or to strip down or to ignore it. We choose our actions and our commitments with this knowledge, but not without free will.
And so I'm sad, because here I am, standing on my own two feet, loving people. And that is so wonderful, and it used to be *me*, but instead now it's a part of me, and my actions are my own. I've given up that other part of me, who is driven by that sort of causality. Oh, I'm not making sense. I can't tell you about how it feels to lose your soul in someone and be part of them and feel yourself dissolve, and aout how that is different, and this is lonelier but much fuller all at once. I'll just leave this here, and catch up on my sleep (I've had two hours) and drink some water, and do rat laundry and look out the window at my beautiful rhodo and hope Graham gets here soon.
There's something about this that hurts me, that makes me feel a little bit broken. I expect to be hurt a bunch, and instead, I really am not. I expect people to turn out bad once in awhile, and yet I've never been treated particularly badly, and never maliciously. Instead the world just keeps giving and giving, wonderful people and amazing opportunities, and I don't know what to do about it. There are so many people I love, so many people that are wonderful. Many of them get left behind due to tiny discrepancies in inclination combined with a simple limitation on time and ability. They go on and live their lives, happily and well, and we never intertwine much.
And you sort of look around and you say, what is the point of this? How can so many beautiful, wonderful things be given to me? How can I have grown so much, to recognise these things now and not throw them away as I did before? Where is the catch, or if there is no catch... what can I do? Where is the reciprocity in this? Where is the release, the vent for so much *good* and *joy* and *selfness*?
After Tuesday dinner which turned into Thursday night orgy-lite which turned into Friday morning ladies' breakfast, I was the last to leave Piotr's. We'd swapped life stories, as was appropriate at that juncture, and I said: you know, I don't know what to do. There's no drama here. I love you, this was awesome, and I'm gonna head off now, but I feel like we need to have some sort of weird emotional drama. And we didn't. And so I've got anothe rperson in the world that I care for, that I don't overstep boundaries with but with whom there is something very good. And the list goes on.
And I'm learning, here, that love is not a difficult thing. Not even usually. Love is simply the element in which we move but pervasive to the spirit and the soul like air is pervasive to the body. Love is not a matter of posession, although it can be. It's not a matter of sex or attraction, although it can be. It's not a matter of protectiveness, although it often is. It's a matter of joy in another, although that is not all, or even usually, the sum of it. Love is a natural response to humanity like sweat is a natural response to warmth. We choose what to do with this response-- to wear another sweater,\ or to strip down or to ignore it. We choose our actions and our commitments with this knowledge, but not without free will.
And so I'm sad, because here I am, standing on my own two feet, loving people. And that is so wonderful, and it used to be *me*, but instead now it's a part of me, and my actions are my own. I've given up that other part of me, who is driven by that sort of causality. Oh, I'm not making sense. I can't tell you about how it feels to lose your soul in someone and be part of them and feel yourself dissolve, and aout how that is different, and this is lonelier but much fuller all at once. I'll just leave this here, and catch up on my sleep (I've had two hours) and drink some water, and do rat laundry and look out the window at my beautiful rhodo and hope Graham gets here soon.
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Date: 2006-05-13 01:28 am (UTC)