Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Inside and Out

When I was in Charlotte, B and I stopped by a friend of his’s house and hung out for a while. She is a mother of two living with her boyfriend and kids in an apartment. While we were there I observed her and her boyfriend. They were kind of a typical couple in many ways. Comfortable with each other. Somewhat normal, as far as that kind of thing goes.

A certain realization came to me, looking at them and then looking at myself, that I might not ever find another “relationship”. Not because I would prefer to play the field and have my fun, which is in fact not the case. But because I am so fucking weird and consumed by complications and irritations, that I do not think that there is any person who would ever be entirely comfortable with me, nor would I be entirely comfortable with them in an “intimate” “relationship”. I’m not talking about liking every little thing about me or my personality – no one has that 100%. I’m talking about comfort, that is, the ease of being together even when you’re sad, mad, disappointed, etc. It’s so cliché but I really do just want that one man out there who would really understand me. Someone who would know what I need from him and could provide, or at least say what he couldn’t provide. Someone who would be tolerant of all the little neuroses and intricacies that make me me. Someone with whom I would have an understanding about things like sex, time apart, time together, household issues, family matters. Someone who would get a little bit of joy out of having me figured out. And someone I would feel the exact same towards. Someone that I would like so much and would like me so much that we’d be the most good looking thing ever to each other.

It’s a lot to ask for, I know.


Anonymous said...

Kind Sir: Lost and of your same kind, I have turned around twice with my eyes sealed and the woods were white and my night mind saw such strange happenings, untold and unreal. And opening my eyes, I am afraid of course to look - this inward look that society scorns-Still, I search in these woods and find nothing worse than myself, caught between the grapes and the thorns.

Meanwhile you pour tea with your handsome gentle hands. Then you deliberately take your forefinger and point it at my temple, saying, "You suicide bitch!" I'd like to take a corkscrew and screw out all your brains and you'd never be back ever." And I close my eyes over the steaming tea and see God opening His teeth. "Oh." he says. I see the child in me writing, "Oh". Oh, my dear, not why.

Stroll said...

Interesting selection, anon. That woman put it out there and I love her for it. If it didn't sound stupid to say, I would say this entire blog is both an homage to and a pale imitation of her.

MT said...

I think you've got it backwards, and that love is as much about being oblivious as being appreciative. When you come to believe you are appreciated in unanticipated aspects or despite it all, you're liable not to feel a need to be appreciated for the particulars that seem fundamental to you now. You might just have to appreciate yourself for those things. Or to be appreciated in some ways you may need to spend one weeknight away from your soul mate to bowl or knit or whatnot with your own group of friends. Being homosexual doesn't mean being homoeverything.