I identify strongly with the element of air. In some ways, I'm the quintessential Air person; living my whole life up inside my head, at best quick-minded, intelligent, and fun, at worst emotionless, fey, a brain being carried around in a bottle.And I am fascinated with water. Water's kind of like air. It flows, it has currents, it does the whole convection thing.
But you can't breathe water. Not pure water, anyway, unless you're a fish.
So what happens when water and air combine?
Well, you can get soda; a fluid with just enough air in it to make it interesting. It fizzes, it bubbles, it hisses happily to itself.
With another ratio, you get cloud. Rub a cloud the right way, and you get storm.
That's how I'm currently feeling re: Chris. Like there are sparks just waiting to happen. It's a strange feeling. Anticipation. Sometimes I feel like picking a fight just so the weird anticipation can go away. But I'm not sure if the anticipation is of something pleasant or unpleasant.
I'll admit it; I'm actually more scared of the prospect of it being pleasant than unpleasant. With each nice, good, comfortable thing that happens, the urge just to let go and sink into whatever this is becomes stronger and stronger. And I don't want to do that. I am simultaneously at two different ends of the spectrum: the end that says, "Let go and go wherever this takes you" and the other end that says, "dude, this is a direct, serious, and immediate threat to our identity." And there I sit--at both extremes at once. It's not a particularly comfortable balance, but it is a balance of a sort.
I'm not sure where the resolution to this lies, if there is one. Both ends are pretty damned entrenched. One end has three years of conscious building of this identity invested and clings stubbornly to what it has worked so hard to create. It's the part of me that reminds me continuously of my vision for my life, the goal that I've crossed thousands of miles of emotional landscape to ready my soul for, the goal that--despite everything--I'm still looking towards. This is the end that says, this is exactly what happened in college; losing sight of real wants for an immediate fulfillment and things that might not be what you really want, but are available at the time.
And then there's the other end. The other end isn't particularly rational, but she knows what feels good, and this does. She's more water than air, she has endless energy, she likes people. And she's innocent. Sex and love, to her, are still new-found toys, and her joy in them knows no bounds. In a sense, she is the girl I was six years ago. She thinks with her heart and her body rather than her head, and for that she is faulted severely.
And so here I am, straddling the fence by having a foot in both fields.
Eh. It'll do, for now. We'll see what happens.
The week of silence was good for me, in more ways than one.I got time to rest, to decompress. I got time to spend with myself, getting some thinking and living and everything done. I got some projects that I'd been desperately trying to finish for months done. (witness doomcookie.) I defrosted the freezer, for crying out loud. that's needed doing for a while, now.
And, yeah, I'm back in balance. Almost comfortable in my own skin. Ready to take on the demands of my social life again, ready to do what needs to be done. Ready to say no if need be. Ready to balance self and everyone else.
I still think I'm a mutant. but at the moment, I'm a happy mutant.
I went up to Vancouver yesterday on a whim. It was an "I GOTTA get out of this town!" impulse that had me fleeing northwards. It was a fun day; I got a bit of sun, I bought some stuff at the Virgin Megastore, and got stuff at Lush that leaves me smelling really lovely. I'd forgotten how much I loved Potion, for example. Potion is is a moisturizer supposedly scented with carnations and roses, but on me the scent turns suspiciously warm and spicy. I smell completely edible when I've got it on.And on the way home...
Heading south on I-5, up where the speed limit is 70 MPH. The roads are clear and dry as a bone, the nearest car is a half mile away. I stretch out and set the cruise control, feeling the accelerator dip once as the car acknowledges my request. The car purrs as it settles in at 77 mph. I turn the music up and watch the landscape roll by, the first green blush of spring on the hills, studded with the pink of blossoming trees.
You know how some moments are just perfect? This one was. Singing along to my music, I was suffused with a sense of well-being, as if something benevolent had said, you need another reason to love life? Here's one! And alone in my car with my thoughts and my voice, I sped homeward.
