Strangers

My head is so full... all of it is trying to fall out at once and thus nothing can get through. I accomplished none of the personal things I wanted to do. I want to avoid my usual holiday procrastination this year, and start working on presents. I was supposed to be off work today and tomorrow for doctor visits, but the situation in the Northeast continues and my time-off was canceled. That might be okay on a personal level, I am still full of thought and emotion from the weekend, and perhaps a distraction is exactly what I need. Over-analyzing is after all, my super power.

So, the weekend. It was similar to those moments in our lives where we set off thinking we know exactly what will unfold, and it's familiar, but as it begins to play out you find yourself ushered along a path that has an infinite number of possibilities; there is no clear conclusion and you're left with only embracing the experience and the excitement it offered. I could not have expected where I'd be, how I would be feeling. Internalized; the fight that was happening was as contentious as anything a political ad could throw down.That's multifaceted. That connection: my own insecurity has convinced me is so paper-thin and delicate, that at any moment I am a ghost again. I don't know if my actions are what's best for anyone involved, and I don't want to hurt people. With no clear understanding of why people have been cutting me out of their lives, as I mentioned before, the coincidence of the act has left me convinced it's me. So, I have only insecurity in my words, my movements; so the struggle between thought and action is bloody (literally). So, for much of the night as emotion bottled up behind my tongue, I sat quiet, allowing the night to go where it would. And in retrospect, that was best. I managed to do so until dawn's break, and said those words that perhaps burned as painfully as a fire's ember. I am foolish if I want to believe that wasn't already known. Yes, I love you.

So, there was star-gazing, misdemeanor criminal activity, music sharing, bonding, a lot of laughing, and a wonderful fire. Nothing short of an awesome night.

I am heading into work wrapped in the experience of the weekend, and haunted by the phrase, "imperfectly connected". However true it is, love makes it hard to accept. It is reality, sadly; it's actually the perfect description. Of course, I am compelled to fix that, but that internalized struggle is telling me: "Right now, accept the connection, embrace the bond you have with someone you love, and if it is supposed to be anything more, it will be." So, thank you inside voice for the wisdom, and I will spend a few days trying to convince myself that you do actually have a clue about what you are telling me.

Listening to: Portishead - "Dummy"