Went the Distance
I want to get this while I have it fresh on my plate.
I had made a resolve to fight for him. I'd felt like he'd been let down a great deal in life by others and I felt it my responsibility to care for him because I loved him. But the love for him was the kind that was sweet, familiar, deep but more in a special, special friend way.
I remember reading his profile and thinking, "Why don't I already know this person? He seems like someone I'd already be friends with." But I wasn't yet and then I became one. And then he was wonderful, as they tend to be in the beginning, but in the end it was disappointing. As my friend Meredith said, "Best it happened now versus six months from now." Apparently there is a direct mathematical formula which describes the amount of time needed to heal a broken heart vs. the time spent loving someone. It had only been just over two weeks after all.
Ah, I'm reminded of Chet Baker right now. Chet sang, "I fall in love too easily. I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last." That seems to be a recurring problem in my life. Oh, and fucking Chet killed himself. Would that there was something that I could sustain for a while that was almost tepid. If not tepid, then maybe a slow trickle. I don't know what I'm racing for. I have no idea what my hurry is. It just happens. I get so caught up in the passion of the moment and expect that everyone is exactly the same as me, feeling exactly what it is I'm feeling. But they're not, evidentally. So here I am. No real mission again. Alas. I wish I knew exactly why. But maybe I don't really want to know. A little mystery is good. I think the mission is to concentrate on what it is I need to do, to be.
I'm so close.
I found myself going through the same pulls as I did before. I had decided not long ago that the next time was going to be different. It wasn't all that different. I did spend more time with friends this time, which was good. But the rest of it, the all consuming bits were still fragments of my old self. Can you help those, though? Is there that much of yourself that you can change? I want to know.
Maybe I have a love addiction. Geez. That was hard to write. I don't remember feeling that gross angst before, but they tend not to break up with me. It's usually the other way around. And maybe it's the preparedness of a situation. He had prepared himself for this at least a couple of days in advance. I had absolutely no preparation at all. Just typically flying by the seat of my pants. Again. Sigh.
The worst part of it is I can't listen to half of my music library right now without thinking of him.
The best part is he's had the foresight I'd always lacked. In the end he was right.
I don't really have that list of requirements that need to be filled when looking for someone. It's just a feeling. A connection. It's always different, ever unique. I have to remember the time spent with him. It's very important that I remember the time. He was very special and I have to be able to have that kind of special the next time around. He gave me hope that something really good could exist. I have to know that, to remember that.
So there were good things that came out of this:
1. I got to really care about someone again; something I love to do.
2. I now have to examine whether this is a serious problem in my life, the whole love addiction thing.
3. I know who my friends are.
4. We were very good friends and eventually we will be great friends. Just not yet. Still some more healing to do.
I had made a resolve to fight for him. I'd felt like he'd been let down a great deal in life by others and I felt it my responsibility to care for him because I loved him. But the love for him was the kind that was sweet, familiar, deep but more in a special, special friend way.
I remember reading his profile and thinking, "Why don't I already know this person? He seems like someone I'd already be friends with." But I wasn't yet and then I became one. And then he was wonderful, as they tend to be in the beginning, but in the end it was disappointing. As my friend Meredith said, "Best it happened now versus six months from now." Apparently there is a direct mathematical formula which describes the amount of time needed to heal a broken heart vs. the time spent loving someone. It had only been just over two weeks after all.
Ah, I'm reminded of Chet Baker right now. Chet sang, "I fall in love too easily. I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last." That seems to be a recurring problem in my life. Oh, and fucking Chet killed himself. Would that there was something that I could sustain for a while that was almost tepid. If not tepid, then maybe a slow trickle. I don't know what I'm racing for. I have no idea what my hurry is. It just happens. I get so caught up in the passion of the moment and expect that everyone is exactly the same as me, feeling exactly what it is I'm feeling. But they're not, evidentally. So here I am. No real mission again. Alas. I wish I knew exactly why. But maybe I don't really want to know. A little mystery is good. I think the mission is to concentrate on what it is I need to do, to be.
I'm so close.
I found myself going through the same pulls as I did before. I had decided not long ago that the next time was going to be different. It wasn't all that different. I did spend more time with friends this time, which was good. But the rest of it, the all consuming bits were still fragments of my old self. Can you help those, though? Is there that much of yourself that you can change? I want to know.
Maybe I have a love addiction. Geez. That was hard to write. I don't remember feeling that gross angst before, but they tend not to break up with me. It's usually the other way around. And maybe it's the preparedness of a situation. He had prepared himself for this at least a couple of days in advance. I had absolutely no preparation at all. Just typically flying by the seat of my pants. Again. Sigh.
The worst part of it is I can't listen to half of my music library right now without thinking of him.
The best part is he's had the foresight I'd always lacked. In the end he was right.
I don't really have that list of requirements that need to be filled when looking for someone. It's just a feeling. A connection. It's always different, ever unique. I have to remember the time spent with him. It's very important that I remember the time. He was very special and I have to be able to have that kind of special the next time around. He gave me hope that something really good could exist. I have to know that, to remember that.
So there were good things that came out of this:
1. I got to really care about someone again; something I love to do.
2. I now have to examine whether this is a serious problem in my life, the whole love addiction thing.
3. I know who my friends are.
4. We were very good friends and eventually we will be great friends. Just not yet. Still some more healing to do.
posted by Comrade Chicken at
1:42 a.m.
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