I thought I'd had my closure. I thought I'd figured everything out. I thought I'd safely sorted out and stored the broken pieces up high in the attic. I thought I'd transformed all the potential disturbing forces into steady, peaceful, quiet, pleasant dripping raindrops, chill, sweet and refreshing...but somehow, a friend has 'helped' me to open that door again, and the dam broke down and the devastating flood strikes me again. Hot flashes. I don't know. These are the things I am incapable to put together by logic, invading my waking mind and my dreams, which is why six or seven hours before everything comes back to life, I am already awake, trying to find a way to forget again.
I want to feel safe again and from gathering past experiences, I can only feel safe when my awareness that there is nothing to hold on to is strong. I know it's not the normal way but works for me. The detachment and honest admission of the nothingness are what bring me courage. I can, from time to time, cherish friendship, kindredship, or any kind of emotional bonds, but once sensing the tendency to truly rely on them, I shiver. I guess I can only believe them on a certain level, beyond which I still see the barriers for each impossible to cross. The closest feeling I've ever had only existed seconds in their eyes. So, although I never throw anyone away, keeping them as treasures, keeping adoring or even worshiping all the characters who amaze me, I avoid attachment, especially with her, my best and worst time with her. I know the feeling of being elevated by such an extraordinary person is real and something I've never experienced. Seeing her fly makes want to too. But thinking about her still hurts. Perhaps, let me try again with my reasoning to have an explanation, that I have indeed been changed and crossing over her path has brought the aspiration for myself that I've never had, but meanwhile, the hope she has injected in me sometimes feels too much. It's too high and too far. It can exhaust me, frustrate me and crush me. Perhaps, I should simply keep the aspiration and detach it from her, so that I won't feel the freezing cold hands of hers in my dreams...
In about four hours the sun will rise again. I'd like to go on the road again, I'd like to be on my own again, and I'd like to go back to being the beast again, de-sentimentalizing myself, again...because I make a difference between the me and the non me, the inevitable consequence of being born and the unavoidable state of being.
