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My best friend died last week. It wasn't unexpected. In fact, I have been preparing for this for the last two and a half years. Still, it hurts. It hurts but I haven't had a good cry over it yet. Instead, it is festering in me and I don't know how to release it. I know that it is impacting my general behavior. Probably not for the better.
I also have been involved in a long distance obsession. A guy on the West Coast, by the look of his pictures and the sound of his voice, handsome, desirable, available...but there is physical distance. And there are still no guidelines for dealing with blossoming relationships through data ports and over phone lines. On paper and through words we seem to be compatible; both looking for the same thing embodied in someone like the other. The panic of insecurity and fear of stupid things constantly falling out of my mouth belies the inappropriate attachment that I have allowed to develop. He is scheduled to visit me in a week, yet I have not heard from him since night before last. Have I done or said something? Has he changed his mind? Is it me? Am I paranoid?
Most certainly.
I am going to sell my house. I have to trash all of the junk that I've collected over the years. I have to clean and repair and tidy and plan. I have to escape. This isn't an easy job.
Speaking of jobs - the one that brings in the most money is still getting me down. I can honestly say that I hate my job. I'm not alone. So many people do. Why, then, do I feel alone.
Many old friends are coming into town for my friends memorial service. My friend from the West Coast is scheduled to be here that weekend. What a program for getting to know someone that you might want to fall in love with. "Hi. Let's make out, go for brunch, then attend a funeral for someone that you do not know."
Escape? Me?
Yes.
I want to run away. I want to be free. But, I want to belong. I want to be wanted and needed. I want to be desired but I still want to be free. Is this the koan of my existence? Of everyone's existence?
And through it all, Max, the beagle, still wants his noon time walk, he still wants to visit his friends in the bookstore, he still wants his belly rubbed and he still wants to curl up next to me in bed. And with this, I am content.
My best friend died last week. It wasn't unexpected. In fact, I have been preparing for this for the last two and a half years. Still, it hurts. It hurts but I haven't had a good cry over it yet. Instead, it is festering in me and I don't know how to release it. I know that it is impacting my general behavior. Probably not for the better.
I also have been involved in a long distance obsession. A guy on the West Coast, by the look of his pictures and the sound of his voice, handsome, desirable, available...but there is physical distance. And there are still no guidelines for dealing with blossoming relationships through data ports and over phone lines. On paper and through words we seem to be compatible; both looking for the same thing embodied in someone like the other. The panic of insecurity and fear of stupid things constantly falling out of my mouth belies the inappropriate attachment that I have allowed to develop. He is scheduled to visit me in a week, yet I have not heard from him since night before last. Have I done or said something? Has he changed his mind? Is it me? Am I paranoid?
Most certainly.
I am going to sell my house. I have to trash all of the junk that I've collected over the years. I have to clean and repair and tidy and plan. I have to escape. This isn't an easy job.
Speaking of jobs - the one that brings in the most money is still getting me down. I can honestly say that I hate my job. I'm not alone. So many people do. Why, then, do I feel alone.
Many old friends are coming into town for my friends memorial service. My friend from the West Coast is scheduled to be here that weekend. What a program for getting to know someone that you might want to fall in love with. "Hi. Let's make out, go for brunch, then attend a funeral for someone that you do not know."
Escape? Me?
Yes.
I want to run away. I want to be free. But, I want to belong. I want to be wanted and needed. I want to be desired but I still want to be free. Is this the koan of my existence? Of everyone's existence?
And through it all, Max, the beagle, still wants his noon time walk, he still wants to visit his friends in the bookstore, he still wants his belly rubbed and he still wants to curl up next to me in bed. And with this, I am content.
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