Life and How to Live It
It's perhaps a bit unseemly to be writing about having the blues on the day that I'm heading South to spend a good stretch of time with my other half on this, the “zero wake-ups” day that has been much anticipated, but it also happens to be a day of subtle discovery. And it's not that I feel compelled to share my discoveries so much as the need to nail down my thoughts by committing them to the External.
I was telling the HLP, Stork, that I cannot wait to get to Tucson and just Be With. I'm not aching for it. No, it's far more subtle, far less conscious than that. It just Needs to Happen. (Yes, folks, I'm Speaking in Capitals now).
It's not a feeling of Less that I'm speaking of, even though I do feel a sense of less when my boyfriend and I are not together. It's not about feeling horny, even though I have been climbing the walls needing to climb into bed with the boyfriend. It's not about feeling lonely, because I rarely feel that, even when I'm in a room full of people and feeling like the One-Eyed King.
No, it's none of that. It's not anything other than the rightness of my Self and of Things, when the boyfriend and I are together. It's about a sharpness to the edges of things, a more specular world. Think of print-runs of a newspaper, where the component color-runs do not match up correctly: you can still see the picture, still appreciate the image contained therein, and the information passed is still better than it otherwise would have been.
Nonetheless, it's out of focus, or oddly-focused, enough that if you're paying attention, you can see the technology behind the magic. The illusion unravels.
Such it is for me, when Sam and I are 700 miles apart. Life is there; life is good. I get a whole lot out of it. But I can't help but see the seams, and that's just unseemly. Life is not a blur, but there exists a lack of glinting sharpness that my overactive presence of mind cannot help but notice.
All those observational awarenesses, the multiplicity of data points, just shut the fuck up for a while, for the entire while, when I'm with Sam. The Whole is Restored, and the the sharp relief to thoughts, ideas, feelings and observances tells me that I'm seeing the world with better eyes.
That's as good a definition of Home as I've come up with yet.