In It

02 May 2007


In It
Current mood: indescribable

As I sit here on the eve of the night one year away from the day that the last vestiges of my life fell apart, I'm mulling over a history replete with love and chaos, mulch and payoffs, a moist and insidious assiduousness. The happiness of a pre-defined lover's net, knotted into what I can only call harmony in the third degree – quick someone start the investigation, the body might still be cold…

Ahh, the lovers dilemma, fraught with fastidious ties and subtle power struggles intertwined with a great love's delight, and the might of the combined will of a long term moment dared to be shared, but eternally misunderstood. Did I make the right decision? Have made the right move in accordance with what my heart has told me to do so many times, only to be ignored by an ego fraught with fright and cowardly misrepresentation? Well, it felt no good to be a lion in search of his birthright. It felt no good feel a hollow, tin bin of an empty ribcage, seeking to find, or feel, a heart that was long since forgotten for another's ideal way of life. If the fact that my heart no longer feels as though it were on the business end of a garlic press is any indication, then I guess I'm finally walking the way of the warrior.

It's funny though, how much I've pondered over a decision made with excruciatingly slow deliberation (the Pisces is represented by two fish swimming in opposite directions you know, and to top it all off, my Libra rising only compounds the issue). We tend to take the things in our lives and blow them into a proportion fit for five kings on their way to an African Oktoberfest, because, after all, those things are happening to us, but when measured against the bliss of leading one's own life – feeling one's own moment unfold, feeling those little intricacies of an energy system that contains not only the story, but the rest of you in it – all those problems really seem relatively insignificant: damn! I've lived this life with a person I've been deeply in love with for such a long time and it was such a blissful act in a play that's staying power still pervades my senses to a degree. Do I leave because I'm supposed to? No, not yet. Damn! Why does my heart not seem to be where it used to be when, really, this person hasn't changed one bit? Somehow, it must be me who's changed – rewritten the play to say something other than what was initially inked in…or was it? Maybe this is just the way the play was meant to go. An act played out like a cold beer on tap poured into a frosty mug and clapped onto the table with such ferocity that the foam has over flown into the fable. Okay, so by way of justification, if it's all a tall tale and I'm doing the telling, I might as well tell it the way I want it told. The way my greatest love put it, I "lit up a clove and then tossed it on the rubbles of our life which I had dutifully doused with gasoline." Wow. I never knew how dramatically bad-ass I was, until I realized it of course, until she told me, of course, just like it had always been, just like the way my world went 'round.

The Universe always tends to know what's best, so when there's a tapping on the door I'm more apt to listen, now, and answer, and see who's there. Dare I ask? Mom always said, "don't open the door for strangers, tell'em I'm in the shower!" But you never know who the stranger will be. If you had any faith, you'd figure that there would be a lesson on the other side of an unsettled doorknob, whether it be in the form a raving, slavering lunatic, or a somnambulistic mirror image of a karma unleashed in grand fashion, equipped with a sense of humor, a wry smile and a sharp chortle.

So I turned the doorknob, much to the chagrin of all parties involved, and eventually found a world that I never knew existed outside of the social paradigm. Do I tell the others, those whom I love and care for deeply? Hell yes! Will they listen? Some of them will, others will scoff, or seize up, or shift their feet and avert their gaze, or laugh openly, or attempt to subvert, saying that it's not my responsibility to speak my mind. Well, I say yes it is (yours too). It's not my mind to begin with (where is that anyway? Kerry gets me), so why not just open my mouth? First I guess I should come to grips with the idea of loving this experience that I'm witnessing, which includes all of y'all (what a great contraction) and anything else that might sashay its way into my field of view. Will I ever fall in love again? Probably. I'm in it aren't I? Will I approach it in the same way I did before? Don't be ridiculous. How could I? Will it be the same rabbit trap? Sure, but I'll walk into it with my eyes open at least, and understand how to walk out without becoming the beast I once was. Do I still love her? So much so I that I think I'll find my enlightenment there…