I am too tired to explain why, I feel such unease, such restlessness, only b/c things are so frigging wonderful, and that freezes me over and ties my stomach up in a knot. Makes me want to run, literally.
Here is what I wrote this morning, around 7.30:
I leave P sleeping in my bed. He is unable to wake up, wiped out from a week of traveling and even more than that, constant socializing.
The soft glowing core inside of me is a presence, it takes over, enveloping me with a serene kind of love I could never imagine. It is not a love for him (although more and more I do love him) and it is not that he enables it, so much as keeps me company in the journey that I take, unknowingly. Innocently.
I am not afraid of losing the words anymore. I donÂt have to run breathlessly and jot them down and then think of all the displaced notes with a sense of loss. It is all inside, me, where the glowing core is. This core, I think it exists in all religions, although my knowledge of religion is far from profound. In Judaism it's called Kabbalah I think, in Christianity it is the eternal, unconditional forgivance of Jesus. In Buddhism, it is Nirvana. In all religions, it is manifested in the acceptance of a higher power, a God.
Have I gone crazy? I will worry later about trying to make myself clear, building up to this moment to distinguish it from the ramblings of a maniac. I think, if I keep my senses about me, if I continue to act more or less rationally while carrying on with my life, that should be proof enough.
I don't have an urge to shout it from the rooftops yet. It is quiet. I don't have an urge to tell it to a single other soul or publish it. I just want to feel it, this bliss. This lack of pain and judgement and anxiety.
As I type this I do feel the rest of my body - what I hope isn't a developing RSI condition in my right hand, my mouth getting dry, my throat itching with the two cigarettes I took off of P last night itching in my throat and somewhat in my lungs, my back bent uncomfortably over this too low desk. I feel them all, but I also feel the core.
I can feel the immense pain and fear of my life too, the burdens, they are all still there. I can feel my stomach contracting, not only because t is almost 12 hours without food but twisting with the fear, the thought, of losing people that I love either because they will drift elsewhere or die. And I know this is inevitable. But throughout all this, as I bite my lip in concentration, I feel the core. The unchanging me. My essence.
It is a loss, this core, a vacant place where things can grow and other people can enter. It is a loss of the constant nagging fear and anxiety, a loss of the need to achieve, a loss of the need to prove and succeed - although it enables all of these things. It is better than orgasm, or maybe I haven't found yet a way to combine it with the earthy. It can co-exist with hunger for food or exercise or company or intellectual stimulation or work (a new kind of hunger which I am surprisingly starting to develop). Hopefully it can coexist with romantic love, I don't see why not since it can exist with the other kinds of love, although naturally, from a conventional psychology POV, they are simpler and less threatening. It doesn't need anything or want anything. It is where the screaming, the needing stops and the quiet begins. It just is. My core. Me if you will. The newfound me or the me I never knew existed but now that I am getting increasing glimpses, bouts of it, I know it immediately.
And while I write this, I can go back in my mind a few minutes ago and recall the other plans I made for the day and the weekend, my thoughts on how I am going to pass the next weeks at work, what I am going to do - write the tests, extract the vocabulary, and so on.
P just appeared behind me, naked and tousled, on his way to the shower. I did say, in my breathless little girl voice, (but oh-so-real), "I tried to wake you a few times, but I didn't want to disturb you". Which is true. He was so peaceful when he slept, and I am so peaceful now. It is morning, hot and muggy, but the sun isn't out yet and it will probably be an overcast day. There is work to be done, food to be eaten (trying to fully concentrate now, almost meditate on my food, a novel and strange experiment for me, but something that is invariably like meditation. I could turn this writing process into meditation also. I could even turn sex into meditation, others have done it before, but that would be harder).
There was a bit of a scramble, due to the fact that time is short, his friend is waiting for him at his place and needs his help with buying a train ticket, it's almost 10, he will definitely be very late to work. He has a sexually unsatisfied woman waiting for him - poor P just running around trying to please everybody, completely lost. But that's why I love him, he's such a good guy. I already prepared all the ingredients for breakfast, but there is no way that we will finish breakfast before 11, and if you throw sex in the mix no way we will get that in before 12, plus his shower, he will never make it to work on time. And then, I'm thinking, b/c he already came twice last night (and I didn't, too out of touch with myself after all the socializing with his friends and also wrong time in my cycle), that he really won't be too much into it, and I can't blame him. And while I was doing the breakfast things, I realized I was becoming increasingly hungry and that was taking a priority over sex. I only get hot in this time of the month when he makes me hot anyway. And also I should be starting my working day sometime soon, even if on this computer. So I think I will call him and call the whole thing off.
I don't want to make mistakes with this guy. But mistakes are inevitable. All this trying out, trial-and-error, and both of us so unused to being close to another human being.