It is morning, Cincinnati Ohio.
The light filters in through lace curtains. I hear the traffic from the street. Something I haven't heard the last two days. The snow and ice storm slowed everything down.
There is a faint hint of cigarettes and weed in the air. She is asleep still in her room. The cats are somewhere. They remain untrusting of me, so I only see them following her, faithful attendants and entourage as they are. I only get to pet them when they lay between us.
My head remains wrapped in big questions and thoughts like a snake eating a deer. I am maybe trying to understand things that cannot be understood. Or understood by me alone, at least not now.
I have feelings but I don't trust them. They are such temporary and fickle little monsters. My feelings send up messages and I strap them to a chair and riddle them with long interrogations.
The "why" of what I am feeling is so hard to dissect and understand. But it feels important to know what's happening so I can act appropriately. Am I experiencing a trauma response? Is it just my anxiety? Perhaps just a lack of sleep or some side effect of physical pain or hunger. Or if what I am feeling is real (is it ever not real? What does "real" even mean in this context?) there is still the "what to do" and "when" that arises.
I feel like I am stabbing in the dark. Pushing buttons randomly on a video game I have never played before, hoping that something will make things better.
I am so stuck in the abstract that even I don't know what I am saying.
I guess I am saying I am sort of living with my sort of girlfriend and its sort of making me miserable.
But I don't fully know why.
Which is to say I don't know if it is this girlfriend in particular or all girlfriends in general. Or maybe it's the "living with" part. Maybe it is just the "living" that is giving me troubles, no matter where I am or what I do.
I have been reading up on the asexual/aromantic spectrum and do find an awful lot that resonates with me on that. Even though I still like sex (sometimes) and at least the idea of a relationship.
And I do feel a solid amount of affection for this one here, now awake and just now walking past me in a tiny light blue robe.
But what does that affection mean when I spend all my time dreaming of being on the road again, alone, living out some fantasy of being a modern day traveling monk and poet.
I feel like I am playacting at marriage right now. The daily routine of waking up first and reading the news while she sleeps, of cooking meals and washing dishes, of watching TV and highly enjoyable sex when we have it, is all quite enjoyable.
But feels to me so very unsustainable.
I moved into a van in October for a life of solitude. But in the four months since that happened I have only been alone maybe a total of three weeks. The Universe has deemed it that I am constantly a visitor, always trying to catch the rhythms of the friends and families I stay with.
And that is a good thing. I have grown a lot from it. But it is also not what I want.
But life is so rarely what I want. I was raised to believe that what I want is not important unless it aligns with the will of God.
I don't know. It all shapes me. Whatever happens is forming my next incarnation.
Until then I want to do right by her, by me, by everyone I encounter on this big sad beautiful planet.
9:10 a.m. - 2022-02-05
Recent entries:
The end of the Van, the beginning of something else - 2022-03-16
20 Years a Blog - 2022-03-04
She and I - 2022-03-01
Counting Matches with Rain Man - 2022-02-19
Her - 2022-02-12
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