2003-07-23 - 8:44 p.m.

Dingos Playing Bongos?

It is another nineteen days until she will be moved in here, U-Haul and bookshelves, books and Camels and all.

It's like all my life I've wandered through my house, avoiding the spots in which she wasn't yet standing. Her presence is natural and her absence is keenly felt.

But -- for once -- it's for a definite period of time with a pleasant ending in sight. I'm not used to this, but I could definetly get there.

Jobwise, I am now in charge of the store I started at as a customer service rep -- just your standard phone grunt. I could get used to being a store manager. It may not be six figures, but it's my own reassurance that I can still get somewhere having dropped out of college those years ago. And hey, two more steps up the ladder with no real competition in sight -- give me eight years, and I'll be making those six figures.

My personal life is very much as it always has been except for her presence in it. I cannot explain how much changes when you care about someone enough to plan around them and have confidence that they'll be there.

Hell, I don't really have to explain "how much," unless this is your first time here. You remember what it's been like -- this is nothing like where I've gone in the past.

Sim named her "family," and thinks she's great. Baccha told me she's awesome and definetly a keeper. She herself tells me she smokes too much (but is trying to quit) and sometimes uses excessive profanity.

The greatest changes are perhaps the least obvious to outsiders, and perhaps only Simone and I would see them. Sim pointed out that, while I'm still thinking a hell of a lot, I'm not stuck in the same circular, self-defeating patterns of thought that I've historically required so much effort to kick myself out of. That my thoughts are actually going somewhere and coming to conclusions.

I've noticed that now I actually look at the future without flinching -- and by future I don't mean an ending, as I've hoped for in the past. That her U-Haul would pull up and then we'd somehow merge off into the sunset with the helicopter-camera shot shooting back up over the clouds.

I do plan on doing a lot of movie-like things with her here -- nobody sets up a scene like I do, unless maybe it's me with her help -- but it's not going to be a movie. We will pay bills, squabble over stuff, and probably eventually have a serious argument of some sort. We will also kiss a lot in the living room and elsewhere, play on the swings at two in the morning, and read books together in bed, holding hands except for page-turnings.

It used to be I lived for tomorrow, but that didn't work out too well since it tends to cause you to fuck up today royally -- not to mention that without a clear vision of the tomorrow that you want, you're constantly working toward internally-conflicting goals and cancelling out all your effort.

Then I sat around for years, wishing yesterday would stretch, wake up, and move on over to today so I could enjoy life again. Strangely, when all you do is sit and stare at where you've been, you get nowhere new -- no doubt this is a great surprise to everyone.

Then, in the predictable conclusion to this metaphor, I tried living for today, but non-standardly, that didn't work too well either. I decided that perhaps I was worrying too much about the future, and that I should go with what seemed good at the time.

Fortunately I was unable to convince myself completely of that, or Catherine would have ripped me to shreds once she had me to herself. There was always a significant part of me that was held in reserve for that series of escapades, and I am wholeheartedly glad that things happened the way and pace that they did.

Living for today also gave me an ex-girlfriend who is miles and light-years below the level of the others I've been fascinated with -- a completely normal and average person that I cannot remember without feeling I have somehow offended everyone else I've ever been with.

Usually at this point one would claim that she was, at least, good in bed; I make no such claims. She just happened to be there when no one else was available to keep me company.

And that's not keeping me company in the sense of relieving the seemingly inescapable existential loneliness. That's just keeping me company in the sense of keeping the bed warm and nodding like she understood what I was talking about.

So who was significant, looking back, in my development to where I stand? Keeping in mind, as I write this, that I do try to learn from everyone because it's what I've found best, and that this is just the major players.

Marcy

First romance. First person I really wanted to kiss. First horribly traumatic breakup.

Brianne

First collegiate kiss. First time I had sex. First time since I'd really spent any time thinking about love that I said I loved anyone. First person to tell me that what I believed about the world could use a lot of work. First person strong enough to push me away.

Amber

First time I really felt wanted and accepted. First constantly-active sex life. First time I had to realize that people can be intelligent and beautiful and still fucked up beyond all recognition psychologically. First girlfriend I could just hang out with. First date, to Merchant's in Walla Walla, where we had spaghetti and excellent bread. I was nineteen or twenty.

Simone

First equal in all things. First active, competitive sexual partner. First person to make me feel that I had to struggle to keep up. First person I really adored. First person who satisfied the until-then unnamed desire to be with someone amazing. First person I never got tired of. First person I cheated on. First person, consequently, to rip me open verbally and flay my skin to the walls. First person who ever forgave me for something significant. First best friend.

Angela

First time anyone pursued me as a result of my writing. First time anyone credited me with an effect in their life. First time I fell for uncritical admiration.

Barbara

First time I mistook connection and understanding for something of which it can be a part. First and only time I did anything on cam with someone else who was also on a cam. First time I sat and swapped music with someone for days at a time. First person to forgive me on behalf of others, and to remind me that some excuses are not invalidated simply because they are excuses.

Alanna

First time I made the mistake of thinking that dating would be better than romance. First time I made the mistake of thinking that turbulence was indicative of depth. Last time I will make those mistakes.

S

First time I've ever thought of someone met online primarily by their real name, which is not listed here solely to avoid unnecessary drama on our shared forum. First time a first kiss has threatened to floor me. First time anyone's been that aggressive, that fast (tongue in the ear at 70mph on the freeway, all in good, competitive fun), or that open that fast. First time I've felt completely and immediately trusted in person -- and even trustworthy. First time I've felt like I really have something to offer the person I'm with other than the experiences and things I've already got (We will, you see, enrich each others lives -- it's hard to offer someone more than that, particularly when both someones are dedicated to the idea of learning from their lives. the more there is to see and live, the more there is to learn). First person who didn't hide their tears or dissemble about what was wrong. First person who immediately made me feel actively wanted and liked. First genuinely, totally random Internet person that I have met and ended up loving -- and as such, first immense step toward having general hope for humans. First evidence that Simone, as an intelligent human being who makes a constant effort to work through their own shit, is not an anomaly, and that things really don't have to be the way they are. First person with whom I have scientifically and methodically done everything right with. First person to make and send me a card in the mail, and the first non-parental personal mail I have recieved in three years. First person I have met who displays not only intelligence, but the often-forgotten matter-of-fact rationality that just gets me somewhere between the heart and the stomach. First person I've ever really been eager to have the minutiae of realworld life with -- brushing teeth, groaningly waking up in the morning, accidentally spilling things, burning food, the whole gamut. First person with whom I have a mutual humor understanding.

I could go on and on and probably would for awhile, but she's online and I'd much rather be talking to her about it -- no offense intended. This is all still very new to me, and I do intend to be wrapped up in her for a long time before getting back into the rhythms of daily life -- not normal life, no more of that, thanks.

What's the way of making it happen? You don't, that's how.

Years ago I heard some songs by Sting -- one a solo effort and one done while he was with The Police -- that contributed to sparking my efforts in self-evolution.

I heard him sing about a spirit-quest, about the desire for a teacher and how you never found the answers but you never stopped looking, and I lay asleep that night dreaming that somewhere in the desert there was a shaman who would lay down to sleep on rocks and would become like them, or on trees, and his arms would gnarl and send out shoots -- and all the while, he was still himself. And I thought, that's what I need to find, and I looked everywhere for a shaman of my own. "Secret Journey", by Sting & The Police, if anyone is curious.

I heard another song at the same time. "History Will Teach Us Nothing", which I do tend to agree with in general. A small, simply stated, repeated line at the end that may well be one of the more important concepts that I have to communicate:

Be what you've come here for.

If I hadn't spent these years working on myself, rooting out the things I knew would destroy the lives of people nearby, working to understand and be what I wanted to be -- hey.

I think anything can look like destiny from the right angle. I put a quarter in the machine and turn the handle and some chiclets come out; destiny, right?

I spent years cultivating myself, and it's not exactly unforgiveable to try to find some grander purpose that I've been striving toward this whole time -- to give her the name of The One, and say see, I was thinking of her somewhere in the back of my head or why would we fit so perfectly? Destiny!

I left open a place in my life for an intelligent, funny, competitive, considerate equal. Dozens of others edged toward it and were repulsed at a distance or got close and failed to fit. It's not destiny that the piece whose vital parts were congruent with the hole fit flush at the edges -- but it's very relieving to know that the piece exists, non? The design, the inner shape, the decoration, and god -- the entire other third and fourth dimension to any human that you can't plan for or even really hope for except as a vague longing -- those are so wonderful to explore once the basic fact of YES is established.

Which is essentially what I have to say about all of this: YES.

I woke up at 10AM on the day her flight came in. Picked her up at the airport sixteen hours later. Got home, and was passionately active with her until one in the afternoon. I woke up disheveled and groggily dehydrated to find that she'd noticed I was waking up and gotten me a glass of water.

There's nothing I can say that means quite as much to me as that simple act. It's not like I'd love her any less than I do if it hadn't existed. It's just such an excellent microcosm of our relationship that it makes me grin just thinking about it.

We have spent so long being considerate of inconsiderate people -- it's water on a hot, dry day, and a supply that's self-replenishing. I so look forward to life with her.

That is all for the moment.

previous - next