I want to write this post with some modicum of eloquence.
I need to take the trash out and do the dishes, clean the fridge.
I need to read 15-30 pages of my book.
I need to make my bed up.
Play Civ VI
Play Dragon Age. (Yes. Was distracted, but yes.)
I begin so poorly because today does not come with a ready-made narrative. Today had just strange conversations and strange glimpses of the past and strange impulses and strange behavior and I don’t know how to correct for it here.
So, yeah, the oddity of J and I, the pulling apart and smacking far too hard back together again continues apace. I don’t know how to describe it without saying more than a public blog on the internet allots for. There are communications between two people which aren’t meant to be parsed and reconstituted into a digital form for the masses to consume. Suffice to say, that the doubts have not been erased, but they have been duly pacified, though the new possibilities that loom are…not without their own dangers.
Am I a kind soul that can balm and soothe these torments and concerns or am I a woman loved? I have no clear vision even now. We’re discussing things I don’t know if either of us want. I forget all the time that I haven’t met him. I forget all the time that to plan anything more than a single meeting is insanity. But he suffers where he is. He needs someone around and I think so many of these struggles would be eliminated. Yet. Where are we, and I have no responsibility to this, I am just a random stranger on the internet. Except I keep arguing as a method of encouraging a few inches less of this endless light between us that is not the case. That we’re doing all this for a reason. I am the mouth that says stay, that says I want to help, that means to foster sympathies and affections with its words.
He says he won’t be a parasite when we begin to talk about how I have some flexibility now. And my heart breaks. That’s not what I see or want or believe. It is a time of recovery, but he needs some human support. He needs some compassion after all he has given the world.
What I want is his ability to mind his shop so steadily that I am chosen and not grasped towards. I want to free him from this sense that all is dire and impossible and bound as it has been in his painful past. I want him to have the strength to buoy himself when I am not able to take the call or reply speedily. I want for whatever time is that we’re actually together, fully together, that we’re not spending it crawling up from a shell of torment.
No carts and no horses. Just this strange state again all come over me.