Boxes

Sometimes I notice that my relationships with people are very individuated. I don’t have a unified self that I present to the world. I am something different to most people.

Sometimes I manage to see the size and shape of the box I’m currently standing in. Sometimes I’m trying to straddle multiple boxes. Sometimes I have a foot in one box, a foot in another box, and a hand in another box. It’s like a divided version of Twister. Landing wrong smarts because of all the walls.

Who am I? What am I?

I am an infinite variety. I am an enigma. I am multifaceted to such a degree that it is hard to be a single unit.

For some reason, this week, I had this epiphany Yes I am a good mother moment. I’m still riding it. I don’t think it was just that Noah agreed to go through great expense and effort to knock me up just because I want this baby so much.

Every old person I’ve talked to says you regret the babies you want and don’t have and you never regret the babies you have.

But I can’t talk to the elders in my family. Maybe they’d sing a different tune.

What do I want?

I want to feel encased and surrounded by love. I want to feel like people are happy to be there and they really want me to still be here.

I had that tonight. I didn’t even have to fuck anyone.

But it was totally a date because there was oral and nakedness and kissing. That’s a date.

But I don’t have to fuck to have a date. That’s important too.

So many things are important.

What does it mean to exist in the world? To take up space? To be important, valued, wanted? Do you love to be wanted or want to be loved?

Do I have to choose?

I feel like I hit this brick wall. “You know all these boundaries you want to have around Noah dating? Yeah. That shit’s not gonna fly. Not really. Not long term.”

What will?

I don’t know but I anticipate a bunch of abject terror on my part. My home. My safety. The only person who ever loved me enough to sit me down and say, “What happened to you?!”…. stepping out. That’s going to be hard. That’s going to feel like dying. I’m going to hate him.

Noah keeps pointing out notice how hard you are working to get contact with these folks?

Maybe.

Fuck you for bringing reality into this relationship.

Noah is feeling terrified too. He feels threatened too. That’s reasonable. 

What do we all want from each other. Intimacy levels are confusing.

Things I’ll never say out loud:

  1. I want to learn physical skills with you that involve a lot of travel.
  2. I want you to teach me how to cook like that.
  3. I would really like to find out if I can get tired of fucking you. I usually do.
  4. I want to wake up and see that smile a lot more often.
  5. I want to introduce you to levels of perversion that are going to melt your brain. Want to scare the shit out of the audience together?
  6. What do you really want?
  7. Why do you think anyone else would ever want to put in as much attention as you? I’m not stupid. I’ve tried the competition. I’m a high maintenance pain in the ass.
  8. I think there should be a word for what we are and friend ain’t it.
  9. I promise that when something better comes along for you I will disappear. I will not be a distraction. You deserve real happiness.
  10. I wish I knew if you wanted a series of zipperless one night stands, a fling, or if you want to find a way to know me.

I will absolutely never ask. It’s not ok to ask a question if you aren’t ok with whatever the answer is. When I was told he just wanted one night… I took it hard. I liked him. Then I had to see him around and be polite. –

So I get to live with ambiguity. Like every other motherfucker.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

What am I going to do about it?

Go to sleep.

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