Talking with Steve, my therapist, yesterday, I mentioned the museum metaphor that I wrote about yesterday. We talked a bit about it, and about the dream I had last week, and he basically blew my mind open about it all. With regards to the dream, he asked me how the “me” character in the dream felt. I told him I felt hurt, scared, a little angry at times etc. Then he asked me to put myself in the shoes of the “you” character in the dream. Then he asked for me to tell him what that character felt. That was a lot harder. I closed my eyes and thought and ultimately started talking. I said, “I feel pity for this man in front of me, I am so tired of this, I am so tired of having to deal with this, I wish he didn’t hurt like this, but I cannot do anything more to stop it, I love him, but I cannot love him like he wants me to, and possibly how I really would like to.” At the end of that Steve said, “So that’s what the Grier character in the dream felt?” I said, “Yes.” Then he explained to me that the character was not really you, that the thoughts that the character had were really my thoughts, a way in which my subconscious thinks of myself, projected onto a female character that looked a lot like you in the dream. It has nothing to do with the way you necessarily feel about me, but more about how I feel about myself. Everything started to click...
So I decided to take the day off today. Maybe a good idea, maybe not, but I had some things I needed to do and the company owes me a couple of days for recent weekends I have worked. One of the tasks that I had to do was go to the YMCA and cancel my membership. Like so many things, I have been putting this off as well for too long. I thought it was just out of laziness that I had not gone over to cancel, but I realized today that there were other reasons as well. I have not been going to the Y with any regularity lately. It has been well over a month since I even went at all. I am also trying to cut down on my expenses, i.e. no more newspaper, no more Netflix, cheaper car insurance, and an end to my Y membership. To be honest, all I ever used was the treadmill, and the city provides one of those, in the form of a sidewalk, free-of-charge. I had just been procrastinating on getting over to the Y to cancel it, or so I thought. Like with so many things, as I am learning through my therapy, issues like prcrastination are usually related to deeper issues, anxieties, etc. I waltzed into the Y today, told the guy that I wanted to cancel my membership, filled out the appropriate paperwork, and walked back out. It was in the parking, walking back to my car, that it all hit me. Everything started to flood back about that place: the first time I went...
Happy Valentine’s Day, G! I worry about how I will handle today, so I thought I would try to start it on a good note that may just carry throughout the day. Hope you have a great day, and that your heart is light and full.
It’s his last time in the church, having had sullied his faith in a scandal as big as the lectern standing erect at that end of the nave. This is the last time he will kneel, the last time he will pray, the last time he will put it all in another’s hands. He spends awhile saying his goodbye, and rises to his feet with the squeak of shoe leather, he pivots militarily and descends from the heights of the apse to the depths of the exit, where he will turn once again, and cross himself one last time, before descending fully, and then he will just live, without worship or prayer, never to set foot or knee in that church, or any other, until the end of his...
I know I got a little upset on the phone last night, but please don’t think I am sad all the time. Life’s not so bad. Just wanted you to know.
I am no more the answer to your problems than Mexico is. I am just here, and it is south of the border. I can speak with strange accents and pretend adventure. At the end of the day, I still work for a newspaper. There is another, and so many more that do that. Mexico is an illusion. I am not sure it even exists. I am not sure that the next block does either, until I have to pass through it on the way to purchase sour cream for this baked...
Sing to me babe, with that sweet throat. Tell me that we can try again.
Some of you will know where this comes from, others maybe not. This may be th height of laziness for me though. Restless eyes close, maybe it’ll go away Please rest tomorrow, bring a satisfying day The restless urge of love that’s worth the burning for Surely it’s that one true thing, love to give you more Any thought could be the beginning of the brand new tangled web you’re spinning Anyone could be a brand new love Any tie that holds can be broken, it can tear your bitter world totally open Anyone could be the brand new love You won’t be the first, your twisted change is normal Gossip, dirt, whispered to the nodding head Thrilled you fell apart, instead of them But they will Any hope for love can be killed If you need a different face, it’s definite time to destroy this place Any thought could be the beginning of the brand new tangled web you’re spinning Anyone could be a brand new love Follow what you feel, you alone decide what’s real Anyone can be a brand new...
I felt your heart tonight. It beats still. You are human. I thought that you and I both might have become embroiled in a pattern of hatred, complexity and general non-humnaness. That is not the case. I hope the conversation did not hurt anything. You will be great, because you have always been wonderful, and it is not just me saying it. Float on,...
So it seems like I am always out looking for second best. I know where best is, but she is forbidden, so now I have to settle for a second best search. They may not even be second best, at least I hope not. I hope there is a closer approximation of you. There will be nothing that will equal you, but maybe something that comes a lot closer than what I am meeting. Why do I want to go out to midtown on a Friday night to watch you dance with German guys? Which then reminds me of your Danish guys in NO. They must have been cute, so much cuter than me. For you to kiss Christian at the end of a drunken night. Doesn’t seem like you, but I have witnessed it happen now. Have seen how that scene goes down. I don’t know that Grier. I don’t know her at all. I hope that it made you feel good. I am sorry for what I did that made you feel justified. Were you ever true to me? Was there always, from the beginning, someone brewing in the background? A secret desire? Was I ever your desire, or just a filler? I think I know I was more. I think you did love me. I know I did and do you. You asked why we couldn’t be, and I am not sure exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, but we were. We did exist, me and you, for a time period, and I think you were happy for at least a portion of that....
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