I've been thinking about how I run into walls when it comes to matters of the heart, mainly because I can see it trying to happen again, and... no more. I've reached my limit. I'm liking New Orleans guy *slightly* more than I'd like to, *slightly* more than our agreement calls for, and his head is not in the same space. This has made me begin to want him more, something that I now know is a pattern. I maintain a certain neutrality until the guy doesn't show the same level of interest, and then I find myself pining after him. The reverse psychology of that whole scenario seems so typical as to be beneath me. Of course, that's the problem with thinking anything's beneath you - the universe immediately makes it the crushing force directly on top of you.
I've been reviewing old journal entries, and a little over a year ago I was sitting down at a damn fine taco place with two of my most trusted male friends, and we were talking about the experiences (sexual) that keep us trapped in time, memories that we go back to over and over. One of the observations I'd made about that conversation is that this instant recall is a delicious torture, because it is so easy to bring the memories to mind, so easy to still feel the heat of his fingers stroking my neck, so easy to go back to it in my head over and over again. But, it is so painful because the one I wanted at the time was never truly available, save for the occasional fuck he'd throw my way. Torturous was the hope that the love, the lust could make its way back to me. Up and down. Rise and fall. All this time later, and I can still remember feeling flush and dizzy from his touch, and wanting to just stay in his bed forever.
One of my homies said that these are the wonderful and painful things we covet - these memories one treasures and protects, like 'my precious'. I couldn't have said it more perfectly than that. I'd gone back and forth between two men - friends with each other, old friends of my good friends, really a terrible set up from the beginning. And yet... letting go of either one of them has been wrenching at times, because I hold tight to those wonderful, agonizing memories. My other homie, in his lovely accent, said something also very profound - that sometimes you are meant for some one, but only for that moment, that short span of time. I wish I'd understood that concept at the time. Instead of acknowledging that it couldn't last forever, my feelings intensified when they didn't love me back, and I felt like a ridiculous person for not being able to let go. I'd pursue one, be turned away, and pursue the other, only to find the same result. Gah. Metaphorical walls with Casey-shaped holes.
Allowing myself to swoon in my recollections, while exhilarating in the moment, is the cement glue that kept my feelings stuck in high gear, even when all evidence suggested that I abandon ship. Well, I'm not 16 anymore, and it is a punch in the gut to see exactly how much of this pushmepullme existence for my heart has been my own doing. The only thing going for me is that the pain of those experiences was so intense, so sharp, and so long-lasting, that I won't ever put myself through that again. My lovely New Orleans experience will stay in New Orleans, and I will begin the process of removing him from my visual field so that I cannot covet those memories into an obsession. If I had to put myself through all of this pain, my hope is that I am coming out on the other side wiser, stronger, and more protective of my heart.
Final note: As I'm considering publishing this post, with all it's scary (for me, at least) honesty, I am reminded of what some of my most trusted girlfriends have said on the subject of love, some of which I've already expressed in this forum. Being so pursuant of love has not gotten me anywhere, but as I open myself up to possibilities and let the universe work its magic while I go about living my life, good things come my way. I'm not so certain of the woo woo "magic of the universe" schtick, but I think that being open is the mindset that works for me, both internally and externally. Having said that, coveting these memories is a closed loop, a reliving of the past that can only impede a truly receptive quality for the future. I think that I'm able to cut off a problematic set of feelings for my New Orleans experience because I might actually finally be "getting it" at the cellular level. Here's hoping...
No comments:
Post a Comment