Dis-ease free redux
Sporadic writing is my watchword. Perhaps sporadic is the nature because I only write when an idea or lesson has crystallized in my minds eye. Or maybe I'm just a lazy punk.
It has been since sometime in July and though my life will never be stagnant, things have (at least for the time being) begun to settle into a rhythm. I write now to clarify a few things, and add depth to still others and finally to pose a few questions and a few opinions.
Independence day.
Was as brilliant as I hoped. The days I spent in Austin with Jeremy were inspired, hot, relaxing, erotic, comfortable, illuminating and new. Nothing throwaway, nothing ignored. His mother and brother were kind, his father respectful and appropriately amiable and withdrawn.
I saw my mother's lover from years ago, and what I believed to be a great canker between us was healed. My once-parent, once-nemesis and I were reconciled...Over lunch. She and I shared smiles and jokes. She interviewed Jeremy, and made him feel welcome. As she and her lover were about to leave, she grabbed me by the arm and whisked me away from Jeremy and her lover, and I was overwhelmed with fear, high-school awkward, delinquent fear.
When she spoke, though, it all dissipated as I realized her pain.
The one person I thought would never miss her, or care for my well-being did. She held me, and whispered in my ear how terrible she felt for the past eight years. She felt such guilt, and remorse for treating me so sternly, and only after the fact had she realized how good I had been. She asked for my forgiveness and the truth is, I had given up my anger years before, but this washed away even the memory of it. She was my parent. And now, years later, I know that my 16- year-old self would recoil in disgust at that last.
"My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
an everlasting vision of an ever-changing view
a wondrous woven majesty in bits of blue and gold
a tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold."
Ater returning to LA, and while I continue growing comfortable in my roles as lover and loved, I decided to let my ex know how much I had valued him. I'm letting go of the past, and realizing that "letting go" isn't immediate. It is something my hands do slowly.
I want to feel that I am capable of growing in a way that allows others to do the same. I will not be the tree whose roots kill the surrounding growth. I said thank you. It felt good, and it felt even better to tell Jeremy.
I don't know that he will ever understand why these two acts (the call to the ex and telling Jeremy about said call) are so inextricably linked. Doing one gave the other meaning to me. Because I have always been a "past is the past" kinda guy, I turn back only when I am alone to look at my history at leisure. To introduce it to my future in the attempt to heal all aspects of a life is a new concept for me. But in the doing, both suddenly made more sense.
It has been since sometime in July and though my life will never be stagnant, things have (at least for the time being) begun to settle into a rhythm. I write now to clarify a few things, and add depth to still others and finally to pose a few questions and a few opinions.
Independence day.
Was as brilliant as I hoped. The days I spent in Austin with Jeremy were inspired, hot, relaxing, erotic, comfortable, illuminating and new. Nothing throwaway, nothing ignored. His mother and brother were kind, his father respectful and appropriately amiable and withdrawn.
I saw my mother's lover from years ago, and what I believed to be a great canker between us was healed. My once-parent, once-nemesis and I were reconciled...Over lunch. She and I shared smiles and jokes. She interviewed Jeremy, and made him feel welcome. As she and her lover were about to leave, she grabbed me by the arm and whisked me away from Jeremy and her lover, and I was overwhelmed with fear, high-school awkward, delinquent fear.
When she spoke, though, it all dissipated as I realized her pain.
The one person I thought would never miss her, or care for my well-being did. She held me, and whispered in my ear how terrible she felt for the past eight years. She felt such guilt, and remorse for treating me so sternly, and only after the fact had she realized how good I had been. She asked for my forgiveness and the truth is, I had given up my anger years before, but this washed away even the memory of it. She was my parent. And now, years later, I know that my 16- year-old self would recoil in disgust at that last.
"My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
an everlasting vision of an ever-changing view
a wondrous woven majesty in bits of blue and gold
a tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold."
Ater returning to LA, and while I continue growing comfortable in my roles as lover and loved, I decided to let my ex know how much I had valued him. I'm letting go of the past, and realizing that "letting go" isn't immediate. It is something my hands do slowly.
I want to feel that I am capable of growing in a way that allows others to do the same. I will not be the tree whose roots kill the surrounding growth. I said thank you. It felt good, and it felt even better to tell Jeremy.
I don't know that he will ever understand why these two acts (the call to the ex and telling Jeremy about said call) are so inextricably linked. Doing one gave the other meaning to me. Because I have always been a "past is the past" kinda guy, I turn back only when I am alone to look at my history at leisure. To introduce it to my future in the attempt to heal all aspects of a life is a new concept for me. But in the doing, both suddenly made more sense.
posted by the strange at
4:07 PM
|
1 comments
