Tuesday, October 25, 2005

sometimes, you're just too tired. I promise I'll post soon. My body just crashed -- I actually fell asleep sitting up. I'll babble first thing in the morning, but for now, I need to re-zonk. Even insomniacs hit the wall, I guess. I think I topped myself up on my tired, overwhelmed, overthinking, going-too-far-on-too-little-rest-levels. But make sure to say hello in the comments. Too many lurkers around here! Send a good thought or somethingorother. Sleepy Meg needs you! She could use some love. It's hard to be profound when you're exhausted! Oy. Night. 10:45:33 PM    well, yes, but...  [] pass the dramamine. Only three things in life have made me honest-to-goodness, wretchedly sick to my stomach: Love Hate Food Poisoning It's true. Sometimes I haven't always been sure just which one of the three was hitting me head-on. When I fall in love, I fall in love much like a rock falls from the top of a building. And when I fall out of love, the rock bounces back up and knocks me in the side of the head. It's a great system -- either way, I face significant trauma and end up with a concussion of some sort. When I hate -- an experience which is rare and quickly remedied -- it is often after getting one of those rocks to the side of my head, metaphorically speaking. My initial reaction to heartbreak is rarely sadness. It's mostly anger -- not a Bruce Banner kind of anger, mind you, but just a frustrated, exasperated, choked-up feeling that turns my face red and my eyes a deeper shade of green. But not Hulk green. I simply don't understand some of the ways that people reject one another. Some of the cold words I've heard from mouths that I wanted nothing more than to kiss. Some of the ways I've had to pull myself up short when every other cell in my body was begging me to let go and feel. Some of the excuses I've had to digest. I know what it is to want so badly to understand, but never to receive an explanation. Still, I can't hang onto that hurt. After all, it's just the intermission between joys. I can't stand the rollercoaster and I love the rollercoaster. I fear investing in someone and I crave it like a drug in my veins. I want to dive in, and then again, I don't see the point. But I love and I love and I love, and try as I might, I cannot seem to stop. Even if it makes me want to be honest-to-goodness, wretchedly sick. Hate, while quick and fiery and shocking and nuclear, is much easier to let slip away. Even if love hurts like mad, it still feels like being alive, deep, deep down. That sensation is exactly what no one wants to let go. Hence Top 40 radio. Hence most lingerie ever made. Hence 64% of cell phone calls late at night. Hence the self-help section at Barnes and Noble. Hence about 50% of the psychology profession in North America. Hence about 95% of Ben and Jerry's sales. Hence 99.9% percent of my iPod playlists, thrown-away poetry, and most of my extended rants. But, hell, I'm still all for it. I'd rather be throwing up because my heart is beating too fast to breathe than have that juicy red-purple lump harden slowly into a stone that sits in the pit of my belly and aches. Some days, I wonder if I'll ever get anyone to go the long haul with me. I wonder what habits will drive him batty. I wonder what we'll argue about. I wonder if he'll walk out on our 30th anniversary and go off to Boca Raton with some legal secretary from the fourth floor of his office building. I wonder if he'll cry at our wedding, or if we'll even have one. I wonder if we'll have a home or an apartment or a loft or a hut. I wonder if we'll scrape by or live wildly or sock money away for retirement. I wonder if we will have a song. I wonder if he will hate to dance. I wonder if he will be a night owl. I wonder if he will write love letters. I wonder if he will look at me and see a future. I hope he likes to drive. And doesn't mind someone singing in the car. I hope he thinks I'm funny. I hope he doesn't mind if I love him so much I get queasy now and then. And if he does -- well, I can always claim food poisoning. 12:01:37 AM    well, yes, but...  []

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