its 3am. I had a nightmare that woke me. It involved past members of popular reality TV shows trying to stop a killer who uses shadows to kidnap his victims. "the shadow killer". I woke up right as Jane from the last season of America's Next Top Model and Deb (the mustached bakery lady who works at the New Seasons near my loft- and who in my dream, resembled Jeff Bridges) were trying to prevent the villain from kidnapping the University Of Michigan Marching band. Strange to recount- but at the time it was oddly terrifying- and i am now awake... and its cold.
It must be below 50 degrees cause the overhead heater has kicked on. Its loud but i don't mind. I turn the pillow from the unused side of my bed (to my right, but it would be the left side if standing at the foot) sideways to impersonate someone who is warm and safe. The pillow is cold too. Still comfortable but in no way a replacement. My mind wanders to the random dream, the cold, the fact that my mouth is dry but that i wont go downstairs to get a glass of water, my pillow companion doesn't seem to want to wake up and get me on either. My thoughts are the disjointed thoughts between sleep and wake: a giant floating martini olive, Kathy Bates, the sensation of being really itchy, even though i am not... before regaining focus and settling into thoughts of another ended "what if?" surprisingly similar to the last two- my heart tries to convince me that this one is different. Though, each one expressing, after varying lengths and intensities of dating something like: "you're amazing, driven, rare and refreshing and someone i can see myself with, but i cant be with you." I have to ask how many times can a guy hear this without questioning if its just a line of bullshit? How do i not become calloused and closed off to even the idea of being open to another?
When recently describing all this to my friend Jessica- she informed me that i, simply, "keep getting dumped for being too damn sexy and i should take comfort in that" Jessica is sweet, but i know she is trying to make me feel better. That's what some friends do. They lie so our hurt doesn't overwhelm us and for the record I in no way think i am "sexy", quite the contrary, somewhat goofy and boyishly charming at best. Jessica wants to see me happy- She thinks i don't have enough 'fun' - in this case, 'fun' translates to 'sex'. She feels i am too "relationship focused". i wonder if she is right? I wont lie that thoughts to act on the physical, the animal, have definitely surfaced... but empty sex to validate human closeness isn't for me and i shove those thoughts aside with most of my sadness and self pity. I am becoming practiced at handling these types of "breakups" The open ended type.
"Cully- Have hope, see if our paths cross, our journeys align, see if its in the cards, if its in God's plan."
I do-have hope. though a hardened part of me tries to convince me not to, but I do. Its just no longer of the all consuming sort. Its a functioning hope. A grown up hope. Life goes on. Day to day tasks get done. I miss the connection, but only allow myself to dwell for small increments of time. Looking for clues, looking for hints, the music is hard. Subversive but sweet, I think of songs we shared, hell, songs we even mentioned briefly, get played at great lengths. Days are filled with routine, tasks, work. My mind drifts at first ever six minutes- but after almost a full week is free of distraction for 10 or 15 minutes at a time. Nights are harder. Something about the darkness in the afternoon. Doesn't seem right to work, so Ive taken to making dinner around 430pm, watching a movie and i am in bed reading by 830pm at the latest, asleep by 10. Frequently I have the urge to read insightful passages aloud. So I do. The pillow by my side is indifferent to my sharing. I dont hold that against it. I am lucky to feel the comfort it offers. Its doing its job and i shouldn't expect more from it. We get in trouble when we 'expect'.
Its now past four in the morning- I wake up in less than an hour and a half. My mind is calming and I no longer fear the 'Shadow Killer" The cold night is quiet and comfortable. Ill have no problem letting sleep overtake me- Ill welcome it and the thoughts of who my pillow is a poor substitute. Those thoughts are also comfortable. As I drift to sleep, a quote from 'Annie Hall' is turned over and over in my head like a song you cant escape the melody... "Relationships are like sharks. They have to keep moving or they die. And what we have on our hands here is a dead shark." I dont think my shark is dead. Funny - maybe I am not as good at the open ended breakup as I thought.
Hope and sharks are very much alive.
It must be below 50 degrees cause the overhead heater has kicked on. Its loud but i don't mind. I turn the pillow from the unused side of my bed (to my right, but it would be the left side if standing at the foot) sideways to impersonate someone who is warm and safe. The pillow is cold too. Still comfortable but in no way a replacement. My mind wanders to the random dream, the cold, the fact that my mouth is dry but that i wont go downstairs to get a glass of water, my pillow companion doesn't seem to want to wake up and get me on either. My thoughts are the disjointed thoughts between sleep and wake: a giant floating martini olive, Kathy Bates, the sensation of being really itchy, even though i am not... before regaining focus and settling into thoughts of another ended "what if?" surprisingly similar to the last two- my heart tries to convince me that this one is different. Though, each one expressing, after varying lengths and intensities of dating something like: "you're amazing, driven, rare and refreshing and someone i can see myself with, but i cant be with you." I have to ask how many times can a guy hear this without questioning if its just a line of bullshit? How do i not become calloused and closed off to even the idea of being open to another?
When recently describing all this to my friend Jessica- she informed me that i, simply, "keep getting dumped for being too damn sexy and i should take comfort in that" Jessica is sweet, but i know she is trying to make me feel better. That's what some friends do. They lie so our hurt doesn't overwhelm us and for the record I in no way think i am "sexy", quite the contrary, somewhat goofy and boyishly charming at best. Jessica wants to see me happy- She thinks i don't have enough 'fun' - in this case, 'fun' translates to 'sex'. She feels i am too "relationship focused". i wonder if she is right? I wont lie that thoughts to act on the physical, the animal, have definitely surfaced... but empty sex to validate human closeness isn't for me and i shove those thoughts aside with most of my sadness and self pity. I am becoming practiced at handling these types of "breakups" The open ended type.
"Cully- Have hope, see if our paths cross, our journeys align, see if its in the cards, if its in God's plan."
I do-have hope. though a hardened part of me tries to convince me not to, but I do. Its just no longer of the all consuming sort. Its a functioning hope. A grown up hope. Life goes on. Day to day tasks get done. I miss the connection, but only allow myself to dwell for small increments of time. Looking for clues, looking for hints, the music is hard. Subversive but sweet, I think of songs we shared, hell, songs we even mentioned briefly, get played at great lengths. Days are filled with routine, tasks, work. My mind drifts at first ever six minutes- but after almost a full week is free of distraction for 10 or 15 minutes at a time. Nights are harder. Something about the darkness in the afternoon. Doesn't seem right to work, so Ive taken to making dinner around 430pm, watching a movie and i am in bed reading by 830pm at the latest, asleep by 10. Frequently I have the urge to read insightful passages aloud. So I do. The pillow by my side is indifferent to my sharing. I dont hold that against it. I am lucky to feel the comfort it offers. Its doing its job and i shouldn't expect more from it. We get in trouble when we 'expect'.
Its now past four in the morning- I wake up in less than an hour and a half. My mind is calming and I no longer fear the 'Shadow Killer" The cold night is quiet and comfortable. Ill have no problem letting sleep overtake me- Ill welcome it and the thoughts of who my pillow is a poor substitute. Those thoughts are also comfortable. As I drift to sleep, a quote from 'Annie Hall' is turned over and over in my head like a song you cant escape the melody... "Relationships are like sharks. They have to keep moving or they die. And what we have on our hands here is a dead shark." I dont think my shark is dead. Funny - maybe I am not as good at the open ended breakup as I thought.
Hope and sharks are very much alive.
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