:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Saturday, June 05, 2004 ::

I feel like the damp soil that still holds the furor of the storm.

I am quiet, still, and cold - unmoving, but a catalyst, a container for something greater and wholly separate from me. I am the road the rider churns up at breakneck speed - a thing spun into furious action in the endless stretching space of a moment, and the tangible stillness that descends just as swiftly, just as violently.

There are moments of shimmering joy that hover in my life like prisms of dusted diamond. I treasure these, and hold them close to my heart. You, my friends, my moments, you are the air that fills lungs that no longer wish to breathe. You are my humanity, those-who-remember - you define me and shape me into what I should be when I have forgotten the self-who-was. There does not exist the gratitude, the words, the glow enough to share the beauty I see in each of you.

My Alpha - who, in the space of a few words can say enough to let me know that no drama, no heartbreak, no disaster can ever destroy a kinship writ in the stars. My selfless spider, and he knows who he is, who writes me long letters of hope and courage each and every time I stumble in my life, no matter how quiet a friend I am in return. My brother vulpine, whose wry wit and puckish sensibilities draw me back to myself to mirror them. And, as always, my heart's-blood - with whom I seem to have fallen in love with all over again.

I am not healed - I am still as broken as I admitted at my last writing. There is still the weight upon me, but at least I can breathe. I have small hope, but hope still, that my quality of life, of health, may improve. Joseph has proven more supportive than normal the past few days - I see something behind his eyes I did not before. Truth be told, the last 10 months I have felt as I did in each relationship before - that I was trying to keep alive a relationship with someone who would rather not be with me. That I was trying to push a brick wall - I could remain in the task, but only as long as my own strength held out. I was searching for infidelities with the dread one feels on a roller coaster - strapped in, staring down the brink, with nothing in one's power to do but wait the endless wait for the sickening lurch downwards. Some healthy image, I'm sure.


We had a connection, yesterday - a series of moments of such terrible joy that we were both so insatiably happy, it seemed alien. Over a plate of papadum at Amravathi's, I finally looked at him and irrefutably saw a hopeful future in the blue eyes of the man I've loved so powerfully for 10 months.

Today I went with him on a pool job, one of the many side jobs he's been getting lately, and spent most of the day talking with the pool-owner's wife, Caroline. Caroline looked like a mid-20's goth-club girl, and yet was a septum-pierced 34-year-old mother of an 11 year old and a 4 year old. She is an amazing person, and we were talking like we were old friends within an hour. Her house is beautiful, a fixed-up port monmouth 3-bedroom. She painted the living room pumpkin spice orange, and decorated with black wrought iron and dark wood shelves that had the effortless look of something done idly on a sunday afternoon. There were tin-ceiling plates hung on the wall like art, and glass netted bouys hung from the kitchen rafters. It was exactly the type of home I have wanted to have since I could envision living outside of my nursery. I saw that house, and my heart ached to have a life like hers - this cheerful down-to-earth gothic spirit secure in her marriage and home. It seems so strange that such a small meeting could do so much for me, but Caroline made me realize that I could have the comforts of a home like hers without giving up my personality - that a picket fence didn't have to mean pawning my spiked collar. I feel like a weight's been lifted off of me. Finally I realize that growing up doesn't have to mean giving up.

It's dizzying - ever since I realized that an English degree and a Business degree have the same core requirements, I've been approaching this moment. Yes, I did well in DECA in high school, 4 years ago. Yes, I've always liked commercials. Sure, I love business suits and visits to Staples.

I also got A's in English 4 years ago. I've always loved books. I love long flowy hippie-dresses and going to Barnes and Nobles.

I love Business and I love English, equally. I will never choose one over the other again. I need the stability and wide application of a Business Degree, but I also need the self-satisfaction of an English degree. I will have both, come hell or death. I will achieve something because I want to, even if it kills me, and god damn it, I will do it on my own time, by my own schedule.

Going, now...Joe and I are going to the fair. I'll write more later.

~Fox



:: Fox 6/05/2004 06:01:00 PM [Say what?] ::
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