Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Friday, February 2, 2007
Just a quick thought for now.
Imagine a day without all of the things which you've now started taking for granted. Live one day without what we share, and tell me that you really still believe that you have a choice and that you can walk away and I'll buy it. I'll let go. That's all I need to hear to never darken your door again or trouble your placid, painful and predictable world. Tell me that you can live without me, can spend a day without connecting to me, wake up, go to bed and breathe without a thought of me in your mind and I'll let go. Just that simple. A to B.
Simply put? I can't. Or rather, I can, but it creates such a gravity well in my stomach that it makes me difficult to stand. So. I guess asking you to leave me be is out of the question.
I'm not unhappy about that.
Simply put? I can't. Or rather, I can, but it creates such a gravity well in my stomach that it makes me difficult to stand. So. I guess asking you to leave me be is out of the question.
I'm not unhappy about that.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Letting You Go
There's nothing more I can say. Nothing more I can do, show you or give you. You have it all. You may not have seen it all, but you've seen the pieces that will make the whole. You, in other words, know what's inside the box. I've done everything that's within my power to do. Now it's your turn. Now you have to open the box.
You probably could have guessed this (and I may have even told you) but I used to have a Method by which I made difficult decisions. Still do, in a way. But when I was younger and more ... flexible, for lack of a better word, things were much, much simpler. When faced with a decision between two possible alternatives, I would always choose the path least traveled. I would look into the possible futures, and if there was one path down which I could see further, which felt more secure and predictable, I'd choose the other. Without fail. This, naturally, led to many hardships, but I always at least had an interesting story to tell afterward.
It surprises me very little to hear that we are polar opposites in this regard. But we are both older, wiser and better than we once were. The choice isn't as black or white as it once was, love. It's not a choice between right and wrong. It's not nearly as clear as all that. Not by a mile. We aren't making this choice. It's making us. Somehow, for some reason some thing has decided to put you and I in close proximity and I feel as if there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Except decide to let you go.
And I'm not letting you go.
I say that a lot. It's even inscribed on a piece of jewelry you're wearing. It's written, as they say, in stone. I keep saying this because I believe it. Because it's true. I am not letting you go. I never will. I'm holding you now, only you don't know it - don't see it or feel it or believe it. But I am. And if you look closely enough, you'll see that it's true. See that you're holding me, too. Otherwise, why would you be here? Do you think that you really haven't walked through that door yet? Do you really feel as if the page can be unturned?
Imagine a day without all of the things which you've now started taking for granted. Live one day without what we share, and tell me that you really still believe that you have a choice and that you can walk away and I'll buy it. I'll let go. That's all I need to hear to never darken your door again or trouble your placid, painful and predictable world. Tell me that you can live without me, can spend a day without connecting to me, wake up, go to bed and breathe without a thought of me in your mind and I'll let go. Just that simple. A to B.
I realize that I've been spending a great deal of time opening doors for you, showing you the truth of things, exposing my every crevice to your inspection and waiting, breath baited, for you to choose. I realize that I've been hanging on every word, written or spoken, hoping for some clue from you as to whether or not you'll ever take my hand and fly with me. I realize that I've been living my life for these past few weeks as certain of my own feelings for you and the beautiful, wonderful possible life before us as I am of the sun rising in the East, but completely uncertain as to where you stand and what you'll do. I doubt you because you doubt yourself, and I sometimes wonder if you'll ever give me permission to stop doubting. I wonder if your need for doubt and confusion is so strong that you feel threatened by my lack of it and feel better when I join you in that darkness. I wonder if, in your fear of walking through that door, you've not instead been trying to pull me through the other way.
I'm not letting you go. You know this. I can't make it any more true. I can't make my love for you any more real, any more perfect to enjoy in your presence or any less painful to endure without you in my life. I will tell you every day because it's true every day. And I will love you every day, show you that I love you every day and prove that love to you every day because it is there every day waiting to be given to you. But I can't force you to fly with me. I can't walk you through that door. That's up to you. I won't let you fall. I'm not letting you go. That's a promise I've pledged, but what good is that promise if I'm not holding you? How can I let you go when you won't let me hold you? I can't make promises to someone who's not there. I can't love a shadow.
Do you really think this is easy? I'm asking you to walk off a cliff and promising that I'll catch you, not let you go. What's easy is stepping in and back out again. What's easy is always knowing that the door is still open, either way, and you need only dart back through when the first pangs of doubts cross your mind. It's easy living in our world, your future world, because you haven't yet let go. That's what we got a glimpse of this past week. You took a few further steps inside and we looked at the demons, and although parts of that was painful, it was all good. It was as good as good can get, and I love you more today that I ever have. More and more every day, in fact. And I still won't let you go. But it's not all that easy. Not really. Easy to look at maybe, but not easy to take. Not easy to grab and make your own. Otherwise, why wouldn't you be doing it right now?
You think you're running away by coming to me, but I don't believe that's true. I think you're running away by not taking my hand and flying with me. Running away fro the really scary thing - being happy. I think you've been running away for a very long time, and now the thought of running _to_ something is as terrifying as death. As terrifying as jumping off a cliff, maybe.
You probably could have guessed this (and I may have even told you) but I used to have a Method by which I made difficult decisions. Still do, in a way. But when I was younger and more ... flexible, for lack of a better word, things were much, much simpler. When faced with a decision between two possible alternatives, I would always choose the path least traveled. I would look into the possible futures, and if there was one path down which I could see further, which felt more secure and predictable, I'd choose the other. Without fail. This, naturally, led to many hardships, but I always at least had an interesting story to tell afterward.
It surprises me very little to hear that we are polar opposites in this regard. But we are both older, wiser and better than we once were. The choice isn't as black or white as it once was, love. It's not a choice between right and wrong. It's not nearly as clear as all that. Not by a mile. We aren't making this choice. It's making us. Somehow, for some reason some thing has decided to put you and I in close proximity and I feel as if there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Except decide to let you go.
And I'm not letting you go.
I say that a lot. It's even inscribed on a piece of jewelry you're wearing. It's written, as they say, in stone. I keep saying this because I believe it. Because it's true. I am not letting you go. I never will. I'm holding you now, only you don't know it - don't see it or feel it or believe it. But I am. And if you look closely enough, you'll see that it's true. See that you're holding me, too. Otherwise, why would you be here? Do you think that you really haven't walked through that door yet? Do you really feel as if the page can be unturned?
Imagine a day without all of the things which you've now started taking for granted. Live one day without what we share, and tell me that you really still believe that you have a choice and that you can walk away and I'll buy it. I'll let go. That's all I need to hear to never darken your door again or trouble your placid, painful and predictable world. Tell me that you can live without me, can spend a day without connecting to me, wake up, go to bed and breathe without a thought of me in your mind and I'll let go. Just that simple. A to B.
I realize that I've been spending a great deal of time opening doors for you, showing you the truth of things, exposing my every crevice to your inspection and waiting, breath baited, for you to choose. I realize that I've been hanging on every word, written or spoken, hoping for some clue from you as to whether or not you'll ever take my hand and fly with me. I realize that I've been living my life for these past few weeks as certain of my own feelings for you and the beautiful, wonderful possible life before us as I am of the sun rising in the East, but completely uncertain as to where you stand and what you'll do. I doubt you because you doubt yourself, and I sometimes wonder if you'll ever give me permission to stop doubting. I wonder if your need for doubt and confusion is so strong that you feel threatened by my lack of it and feel better when I join you in that darkness. I wonder if, in your fear of walking through that door, you've not instead been trying to pull me through the other way.
I'm not letting you go. You know this. I can't make it any more true. I can't make my love for you any more real, any more perfect to enjoy in your presence or any less painful to endure without you in my life. I will tell you every day because it's true every day. And I will love you every day, show you that I love you every day and prove that love to you every day because it is there every day waiting to be given to you. But I can't force you to fly with me. I can't walk you through that door. That's up to you. I won't let you fall. I'm not letting you go. That's a promise I've pledged, but what good is that promise if I'm not holding you? How can I let you go when you won't let me hold you? I can't make promises to someone who's not there. I can't love a shadow.
Do you really think this is easy? I'm asking you to walk off a cliff and promising that I'll catch you, not let you go. What's easy is stepping in and back out again. What's easy is always knowing that the door is still open, either way, and you need only dart back through when the first pangs of doubts cross your mind. It's easy living in our world, your future world, because you haven't yet let go. That's what we got a glimpse of this past week. You took a few further steps inside and we looked at the demons, and although parts of that was painful, it was all good. It was as good as good can get, and I love you more today that I ever have. More and more every day, in fact. And I still won't let you go. But it's not all that easy. Not really. Easy to look at maybe, but not easy to take. Not easy to grab and make your own. Otherwise, why wouldn't you be doing it right now?
You think you're running away by coming to me, but I don't believe that's true. I think you're running away by not taking my hand and flying with me. Running away fro the really scary thing - being happy. I think you've been running away for a very long time, and now the thought of running _to_ something is as terrifying as death. As terrifying as jumping off a cliff, maybe.
Throwing, catching, hitting
You said something very interesting last night. You suggested that I might be doubting, having second and third thoughts not because anything was actually wrong, but simply because it's in my nature to question everything good that comes my way. I hadn't considered it from that angle before, but I think that's dead-on accurate. What's troubling me about this, all of this, this new life that is layed out before me is that it's all just too goddamn easy. And my brain simply can't accept that something so effortless doesn't have a great big catch, a huge "Gotcha!" waiting in the wings, ready to pounce once I accept my good fortune.
Falling in love with you? Took a matter of days. Getting you to love me back? Just had to be myself. The new job? Pfft...from first hearing about it to actually getting it was simplicity itself. I've been busting my ass for years to get exactly what was just handed to me, all wrapped up with a velvety bow, and all I had to do to get it was ask. Wow, really? Is it all that simple? Have I been working so hard for so long simply because I'd never thought to say "please?"
It can't possibly be that easy.
About twenty years ago, a new highway opened up near my house. It had been in the works for what seemed like forever, and when it was finally finished, you could practically hear the sigh of relief emanating from the local populace. Getting from Point A to Point B instantly became massively easier, countless hours of travel time were saved, and yet my mother refused to set foot (or tire) upon it. I asked her once why she wouldn't use it, since it was so much faster and easier than her preferred routes, which were harder, more dangerous, and took longer. "It's what I know," was her reply, and that was the end of that.
I find myself looking towards my life, my previous life, the one I had before meeting you and I'm drawn to it not because it's particularly attractive, but simply because it's what I know. It's hard, and it's dreary, and it makes me feel ordinary and pointless, but it's what I know. It's a certainty, all of it. I know exactly what to expect from it at any given moment. The same cannot be said of my future life, the one that makes me feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I could fuckingwell fly if I had half a mind to. And it can't be known, of course, until it's lived, but I'm so terrified that it's some sort of cosmic joke. That I'm somehow blinding myself to the man behind the curtain because I want it all to be true, because, dear god, why wouldn't I? In short, I don't trust my judgment because...because it's all just too damn easy. And real life, as I know it anyway, is hard. So anything this easy must therefore be fantasy, no?
I wrote a story recently about some students who used the Unreal Engine to create a simulation for patients who suffered from various ailments like vertigo or agoraphobia. By running through the sim, the patients, over time, could rewire their brains so that they would no longer suffer from the irrational fears that kept them from living normal lives. I think that's what I need. I hope that, with prolonged exposure, I'll finally be able to get my brain to accept that not everything good is a trap or a trick.
Unless, of course, it is.
Falling in love with you? Took a matter of days. Getting you to love me back? Just had to be myself. The new job? Pfft...from first hearing about it to actually getting it was simplicity itself. I've been busting my ass for years to get exactly what was just handed to me, all wrapped up with a velvety bow, and all I had to do to get it was ask. Wow, really? Is it all that simple? Have I been working so hard for so long simply because I'd never thought to say "please?"
It can't possibly be that easy.
About twenty years ago, a new highway opened up near my house. It had been in the works for what seemed like forever, and when it was finally finished, you could practically hear the sigh of relief emanating from the local populace. Getting from Point A to Point B instantly became massively easier, countless hours of travel time were saved, and yet my mother refused to set foot (or tire) upon it. I asked her once why she wouldn't use it, since it was so much faster and easier than her preferred routes, which were harder, more dangerous, and took longer. "It's what I know," was her reply, and that was the end of that.
I find myself looking towards my life, my previous life, the one I had before meeting you and I'm drawn to it not because it's particularly attractive, but simply because it's what I know. It's hard, and it's dreary, and it makes me feel ordinary and pointless, but it's what I know. It's a certainty, all of it. I know exactly what to expect from it at any given moment. The same cannot be said of my future life, the one that makes me feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I could fuckingwell fly if I had half a mind to. And it can't be known, of course, until it's lived, but I'm so terrified that it's some sort of cosmic joke. That I'm somehow blinding myself to the man behind the curtain because I want it all to be true, because, dear god, why wouldn't I? In short, I don't trust my judgment because...because it's all just too damn easy. And real life, as I know it anyway, is hard. So anything this easy must therefore be fantasy, no?
I wrote a story recently about some students who used the Unreal Engine to create a simulation for patients who suffered from various ailments like vertigo or agoraphobia. By running through the sim, the patients, over time, could rewire their brains so that they would no longer suffer from the irrational fears that kept them from living normal lives. I think that's what I need. I hope that, with prolonged exposure, I'll finally be able to get my brain to accept that not everything good is a trap or a trick.
Unless, of course, it is.
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