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time: the only way to cure space-distance24 August 2003 - 09:35 Life goes on, whether or not you want it to, in any small way that it can. I've been wanting to write--but feeling at a total loss--for days. One night I fell asleep next to him, as I have for the last four months, imagining that I'd be waking up next to him indefinitely. Forever, if we could. The next night Becky and I were on a greyhound bus to Portland, and my entire future up in the air. Much of the early part of my life has been longing for a certain kind of relationship but knowing that the only way really to have it is not to need it so much. So right now the primal part of me that is always filled with longing does miss him, does sometimes rally in waves of pain. But these moments are few. It's not that I don't know I may never be with him again, it's not that I didn't love him with all my heart -- it's just that I've been through this before, and I know that we will heal, I know that we will love again. I know that separation is an illusion, that together-apart is simply a dance. I still feel like I need a lot of hugs, and maybe a little guidance... I want to live as my creative self, not my reactive self now. Instead of, "What has this situation led me to be?" I want to ask, "Who *could* I be right now?" And pick the self most in line with this: I have immense amounts of love for myself and others, I am whole, I can affect good in the world, I can't be hurt without my consent, and I am a healer. And I hope that no major romantic decision is ever dictated largely by money again. Nothing Ever Breaks: I had a friend once, who I felt so much a part of. I said to him, If I could push a button right now that would merge the two of us forever, I would do it. |