 |
|
|
|
|
 
|
|
May 17, 2006 Mental Mastication Now what's the deal? What's with this, Rebecca? You may ask. Then again, you might not ask, in which case you're not interested. And that's fine and that's good, and I'll just be over here.However, as I stated before, Rebecca was the most honest relationship I have ever had. She was forward and forthright. She was strong and resilient. She was knowledgeable of the most important person in her life- herself. Her passion and enthusiasm and thirst was inexhaustible and her playfulness was a joy to be around. She gave her body and her mind and her heart without pretense or remorse or hesitation. She was, at her very core, amazing. All of these things strike home with me now more than ever, considering that only 11 month's ago the woman to whom I had devoted my entire life and all of my love walked out on me, without so much as a backwards glance. It's all so comical and ridiculous and stupid and sad, and it makes me think about relationships, Rebecca, and my own issues. Rebecca was an astonishing woman. Made even more astonishing by the inexplicable coward my ex turned out to be; a person whom I had thought was my "perfect" mate, but who was in fact the most callous, selfish, and cruel woman I have ever had the displeasure to meet. I realize now that Rebecca had accepted me, for me; with all the junk and baggage that comes along, with no other agenda than asking the same of me. In retrospect, I wonder why I didn't fall in love with her, and I understand how remarkable that acceptance truly was. Rebecca was worthy of me. We were, at the time, worthy of each other. In the end, and after five years of what I had thought was a happy and healthy relationship- this belief further supported and bolstered by her constant assurances to me- my ex proved herself unworthy of even my derision. Yet, there IT is; the complicated, twisted, incomprehensible muscle that is the heart. None of us can plan love, or lust for that matter. No matter how hard we try. It happens, as it happens, a force inside of us, as thick as blood, as heady as wine. I may or may not find someone else. At this point, I don't really care, or rather, I'm not "stressing" about it, one way or the other. All I know is that if it happens again I will release my inner self to its wondrous rush, as I always have; because life is not lived at the edge. Life is lived in the air, floating free, after one has jumped. [Add Comment] 0 Comments |
||
 
|