The Flow

The cold wind blows
and swirls past her cheek
while she stares down the road.
Hands in her pockets
and lips pursed,
she awaits her phantom carraige.
The gray wall above her
does not blink
and she does not acknowledge.
Her cheeks would be stained
if not for a lack of caring.
But in this city of blue lights,
where are her angels?

Investagatory Journalism

Back in the spring, my roommate's girlfriend told me a mutual acquaintance of ours said I am creepy.  Now, I'm not one for caring much what others say about me, but "creepy" is not something I deal with.  At the very least, I would like to know why said person finds me creepy.  Luckily, I had an an entire summer to stew over it.  I asked her about it last weekend.  She said she meant I'm creepy in a good way, which: What?  How in the world is that a good thing?  She further illustrated: "I find spiders creepy, but they're awesome."

Not too much more helpful.  It was a weird explanation that didn't make sense to me, and I figured she couldn't come up with a better lie immediately.  Not the best end to the story, but whatever.  I put it behind me.  Then, the other night, a friend told me the real reason she finds me creepy is because I'm "always having girls over."

Huh?

So many things here.

1. What are we, Puritans?  I'm in my mid-20's.  Is there something wrong with having guests of the opposite sex?  If so, I missed that notice.
2. The assumption that, when girls are here as my guest, we're doing anything remotely sexual is weird and, ironically, creepy.
3. You know how many women I've had over here in the last year?  Four.  Four.  If that somehow equates to "all the time," standards have been taken to an all-time low.  Steve and I brain conferenced, and in the two and a half years he's lived with me, we came up with seven females I have had here as my guest.  I just thought of another, so that's eight.  Eight.  In two and a half years.  Not only am I not having women over "all the time," the exact opposite is true.  Women are rarely darkening my doorstep.

I think that showed her!  Yeah, I totally came out on top!   

Smile and Salute

Woe to the happy tribes
upon whom we reflect.
Children on a poster,
adults herded in conference.
We sell their noble spirit
and celebrate the beautiful dead.

Organizing the Chaos of My Mind

Anybody who has had a 2-minute conversation with me knows my mind is a labyrinth of thought.  I struggle as much as anyone else to make sense of what's going on up there.  Things pop in and out without any real warning or purpose.  I also love writing in this blog, but I'm not always in the right time or place to write about what's on my mind.  Often, if I don't do it immediately, I'll forget.

At some point, I found that writing down what I later wanted to address here was a good way of putting my thoughts on layaway.  Problem is, I'm really bad at not getting back to things I put off for another time.  As a result, I have several Post-It notes with writing ideas scribbled on them.  A few have been crossed out because I actually did write on the topic, but for the most part, it's a growing list.  I feel like a hapless bureaucrat of myself, the inbox of work mounting with precious few making it to the outbox.

We're Going Backwards

While I love spring, it has always been a problem with me with allergies.  I spend the first half of every day sneezing, sniffling, and wheezing for a good portion of the season.  At this point, I've come to expect it and I accept it.  I tough it out and stock up on Puffs Plus.  

But for whatever reason, the allergies have come back in the Fall.  I'm entirely unprepared for this.  Last weekend was particularly miserable; my body thought it was sick so I was dry coughing.  I really didn't enjoy that.

So whatever is causing this allergenic revival... stop.

The Search

And if I could
wrap me around myself,
I think I could
discover something of truth.

The Slowly Creeping Insanity

I kind of hate Pixar. I didn't see “Toy Story 3” until a couple weeks ago. When going to the theatre, I certainly did not expect it to take a crowbar to my emotional Pandora's Box. Quick spoiler: When they were at the incinerator holding hands and bracing for the end, I was about to sob uncontrollably. I totally believed they were about to die and I could not understand how Pixar could do that to us.

Knowing the tear-misting effects the movie had, I steeled myself emotionally near the end. I didn't cry, mainly because I was so determined not to. But darn it if the movie would not win in the end.

Later that night, I was lying on the couch watching a DVD. For reasons that I still do not know, I thought back to May. She had come to visit for the weekend, and we were on that couch watching “The Princess Bride.” Eventually, we ended up cuddling. It was later in the night and she was tired, so she was drifting in and out of sleep. I wasn't tired at all, so I was just lying there, holding her, sometimes watching her. Occasionally, she would wake up and look back at me. Once or twice when she did that, she smiled. And it wasn't a smile of excitement. It was a smile of contentment, the kind of smile you have when things are as they should be.

We made plans for me to come up to her and take her to “Toy Story 3.” A few days before I was going to do that, she pulled away again. The reasons she gave were a rephrasing of things she's said before. So I was on my couch, thinking of both of these things, and a wave of sadness swept over me. I couldn't figure out why this was happening, which only made it worse.

Intellectually, I accept why she pushed me away again. But for whatever reason, I can't accept it emotionally. I have in the past, but it's been different this time, and I don't know why. I've tried to sort it out but failed. It's been really hard, because it keeps sneaking up on me and taking me to a place I don't want to go. I have not been able to shake this for some time now, and it's eating away at me. I understand now is not the time. I do. But there is that part of me that is so convinced we are right for each other and that we should be together, and it can't be reasoned with. It will not accept being apart from her. Every conversation with her only reinforces this belief. It nearly makes me sick.

I've long held the belief that we happen in cycles. We are apart and don't talk often for some time, then we start talking again, and we grow closer to each other. At some point, one of us bails, and the cycle begins anew. I've even told her my theory, and she didn't disagree. But with her and me living in the same city for the first time, that cycle is going to end. I just don't know what the result will be. I can't trust myself to be lucid enough to assess the situation accurately, so I don't know what's going on in her head or in her heart.

But I know what's in mine, and it aches for her. I know no other woman like her. I never felt another person was the matching piece of a jigsaw until I met her. I could never completely be myself, flawed as I am, with a woman like I can with her. We can talk for hours, all night, and I still don't want the conversation to end. She knows all my secrets, the ones I don't want to tell myself. I am convinced God wants for us to be together. And I know there's a decent chance she'll read this and know that this is about her. I just don't know what's to come.

I hope she knows that I would move mountains for her, that I am willing to do whatever it takes. I know the price and I want to pay it. And I hope this doesn't completely drive her away. But she knows me as well as I know her, so she knows I couldn't not write this.