Going the Distance, Evading the Cycle

I've been confronted lately the with enormity of space -- the distance between. The closeness of family and friends tumbling into sharp contrast as I count the miles and miles from home, yet no nearer towards it then when I left.

As Dr. Steve poignantly mentioned once: "You gave up a lot of love in moving to Chicago, didn't you?"

I don't grant his premise. I don't think I lost love persay, so much as tempered its mettle. And some loves were too brittle to withstand the strain.

well the hoofers washed off the five o'clock
i fear i'll never find him

While in Texas, I went and found Adam. He decided to shut me out, pass me by, push me aside. So, I showed up at his house. And then it was lovely. And painful. And brillant. And horrible. And lovelier still.

dear john where are you?
i know you're out there somewhere

But, you see, that's the problem right there: he continues to keep me at a distance, pushing me away while whispering that he always wants to hold me close. As if the distance weren't trial enough, I have lost my faith -- there are few objective truths to justify it. It's not grains of salt I take his words with, but giant hulking chunks.

i've got a hurrican in my pocket
but no one wil believe me

Empty promises? Can you really have a fulfilling relationship which lacks faith, trust and honesty?

i poured a bucket of tar on top of a flower
somehow i knew they'd try to find it

When are you leaving me again as you spiral so far down you refuse to let me to follow?

and buy it
or ride it
or style it

We've been here before. Then, at his urging, I was done. Then there was what I deemed impossible: magically, tragically? the mental requirements I made, the reasons I wanted, the change I needed to see all were meet, created, or manifestly presented.

let's go dancing
let's go dancing
to the fireflies
to the hurricane

And it's not as if I every stopped loving. That can't be willfully done.

to the falling rain
to the open flame

As I see the pendelum begin to swing, I want to tell myself this time it'll be different. This time, this time, things will be as they should, as they could, as they would.

how many times?

It doesn't make me question my own personal worth so much as suggest I'm not good at loving. Because that has never stopped, that has never faltered, yet it hasn't been enough in the past, by far. What is to make me think it will be this time? I've remained as steady and honest as I know how to be while offering the best love I know how to give in the sincerest way I can.

i stop a freight train with a grain of sand
can't you hear me crashing?

And for what? A cycle of distance both physical and psychological, hearts colliding to spin off again in the distance, leaving each colder and more poignantly alone then before.

split a mountain in two with a flake of snow
but no one will believe me

I tell myself, no. If he falls off the planet again, I'm done. Too many time have I danced this dance.

the stories were long
the stories were good

But, I'm probably lying. And I hate that.

that's the reason I believe them
what do you know about revolution?

As Eric points out, I'm in it now, again -- as if I was really gone to being with. And I can't turn back. Support, love, kindness are all there. I'm not going to leave.

what do you know about revolution?

And that scares me.

i said, what do you know about revolution

Is this cycle unescapable? Would I really want out if I could? Is this what I've committed myself too forever? Do I want that? Will things change?

all i was taught was patience
or making a statement

I was reading a book of Lauren's, given to her by Yitz, and there's a part of it that's been haunting me. A women who is an expert psychologist specializing in co-dependent relationship states that the the lasting patterns of all relationships are established in the first encounter.

let's go dancing

Gawd, I hope not.

Forever is a promise. So is I love you.

Thursday, I sat in front of Cobb with some people playing Go, smoking, enjoying the soon to be spring. And suddenly, we saw a little old man and a little old wife bycycle by. She was sitting pretty as you please, hands folded in her lap, perched on the cross bar. His arms encircled her as they made their steady, confident way across the quad. One of the kids we were with say, "Wow. I think I just found my new driving purpose in life. I want that."

let's go dancing

And I thought, yes. That's what I want. That's what I have? Is it even a possibility or am I fooling myself, trapping my heart in a cycle of destruction, heartache, and the looming weight of being fundamentally alone? I'm not sure yet.

to the fireflies
to the hurricane

And that scares me too.
I don't like being scared.

sometimes

* Since I wrote this, about two weeks ago -- our internet isn't working -- I've talked to Adam a couple of times. And I'm a little more sure, mildly reassured. But I'm still scared. The problems remain.