Gentle, gentle, gentle

The period train is slowing down these days. I've approached that station. However, my state as of these last few days would suggest that this missing period of mine is right around the corner. So emotional. Sheesh.

I'm here, living with the Greek, and sometimes it's like waking up from a bout of amnesia, looking around me and saying, "What the fuck? This isn't my life."

And last night, when I was despondent because a) I don't recognize my life and 2) I didn't prioritize sculpting  when I really wanted to start a new project, he asked why - he probed even.

I'm feeling out of sorts, living in someone else's home - no matter how you slice that, it takes some getting used to - and I don't have my own flow. I feel a bit at the mercy of his lifestyle. And it's not that he makes it that way, it's just the natural results of moving into someone else's home/life. It's weird.

And so I was awkward - didn't want to turn the TV on in my boredom (because he is one of those that "rightly so" hates it), which I would have normally done, didn't have a book to read, didn't start the project I wanted to but it was too late now, didn't have a fucking thing to do, didn't want to write or blog, didn't want to surf and endlessly scroll the fucking internet....

So I sat there, despondent. Then he put a blanket on me when I didn't ask for it and said, in that cute voice, "look at you, you're so lazy..." to which I responded (rightly so), "are you fucking kidding me?"

I'm not LAZY, fucker. I'm LOST. STRANDED. AND LOOKING FOR DIRECTION. I was fucking thinking.

Ugh.

Anyways.

After wistfully averting my view (which was, from my prone position on the couch, the ceiling), by resting my chin on the couch and staring out the window, followed by a ladened sigh, he asked, "What's wrong?"

AND I really tried to sell the "nothing" as if there was really nothing wrong, because nothing was wrong, I was just out of sorts.

But he did that thing where he is curious and probed and asked questions and we talked in the way that I always make people talk. In that way that no other partner has done with me.

And the days before, we had spent away on a tug boat B&B and had dinner with other guests and chatted with folks and walked in forests, played mini golf - and it was lovely. All of it was lovely.

And then tears well up around my eyes as I recall this feeling that I keep having, which is:

This wasn't supposed to last, but I keep falling more in love with him. This keeps working, so much so that I imagine a home that we share. I imagine the symmetry that we build, and it's beautiful.

And then I think, "but this is exhausting... how long can I keep this up?"

I don't know what this is. I suspect I'll find out one day. It very well might be joy and not knowing how to let it be a normal thing. Instead, it feels like a thing thing that requires thought and attention and a clear divergence from my past life which was struggle, struggle, struggle.

Also, it has something to do with this amnesia - waking up, seeing my new self, and then thinking about parts of the old me that got left behind - I miss those pieces. I think.

Time to go to work now - to that tech job that I would have only dreamt of having, that tech job where I'm pretty sure I'm doing some good stuff - time to go live my best life. Oh, and there it is, what's exhausting is clinging to this constant wonderment of, how the fuck did I get here? 

Well, I can tell you this FOR SURE, I worked very hard to get here. I just never anticipated it working so well in return.

This... this only proves out the rest of the journey.