Home > Life or something like it > Entry 03/12/2009 12:11:47 AM – Mentat 490

Entry 03/12/2009 12:11:47 AM – Mentat 490

     T-minus 6 days and counting… 

     And T-minus 4 days ’til the end of the work week and my vacation starts…  I’m both excited and still pretty unsure what I want to do when I get out there to the left coast.  Still haven’t tried getting a lay of the land between the public transit system there (BART) as well as some of the things that I want to check out when I’m there in the city.  But hey, come to think about it, I didn’t do it when I went to Seattle last year either.  In fact, I might just do what I did when I went to Seattle, and take the first day to check some of the things out and marking what and where I want to go…  Eh, I’m so scattered, and I don’t care at this point…  At least I’ll be away from here someplace significantly warmer than it’s been the last couple of weeks… 
     And speaking of…  god, I’m so tired of the bleeding cold!!!  Grrr!!! Where’s the warmer weather that I remember from the early 90s around this time of year when I used to head through Providence hither and yon and see the kids at RISD, Brown and up from either URI or RIC playing in the parks with Frisbees or skateboarding?!?  I miss it *whines* 
     Although about the only thing that’s been going on with this is that the doom and gloom "Global Warming is neigh" folk are seriously taking a different look at everything given the holes that are being poked through their theories for the last couple of years.  Good, some peace of mind for me at least for the moment until they re-evaluate everything they’ve been saying. 

     I find myself in more than a bit of a quagmire about what’s else has been going on with the rest of my life the last couple of entries.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been really happy the last couple of days, but at the same time, I find myself incredibly frustrated trying to describe the chain of events that have lead me to this part of my path in life.  Not so much because of confidences that I keep, but instead in trying to understand the points where my feelings changed the way that they have…  The moment when I thought the muse that I had lost quite surprisingly began whispering to me the siren song that I had been so familiar with…  And more importantly how to express it all without coming off completely dorked out or intensely spazzed out. 
     And to make matters worse, during a voice conversation a couple of days ago, I felt as though I had completely dorked out during the later portion of it when I had pressed for an answer to a question that had been serendipitously side-stepped.  Partially because of being floored by an admission, mostly because I found it particularly difficult to lay myself open emotionally and mentally around this man (whom I refer to in the last couple of journal entries). 
     I believe that the reason why I found it particularly difficult to lay myself completely open emotionally and mentally has to do with the fact that in this man’s honestly and sweetness, I knew that I would have scared the daylights out of him.  He is after all of my generation — a generation that only came into the digital realm eventually and didn’t embrace all its implications like the 20-somethings have done because they had literally grown up with a computer in their room, and could text and communicate with their friends and peers and even so much as to base relationships with someone special at the speed of a broadband connection. 

     I find myself asking the questions, "How do I convey to him that this is no difference really with the modern times and the Renaissance?  How even in this day and age of technological conveniences is — contrary popular belief — a natural extension of what we have learned of expressing interest, of attraction and perhaps the promise and hope of love growing out of it, as our ancestors had done back in the times of powdered wigs, common law marriage and aristocracy saying such lewd things as ‘let them eat cake’?" 
     And in a way it is exactly the same…  Back in the Renaissance people would see each other from across the room, at a party or function, or at a folly, even perhaps at a concert or a concerto and through a brief chat establishing attraction and the asking of the question ‘may I write you?’…  Would begin correspondences while going back to their lives with the promise of writing love letters to each other across town, across the province, across the country….  With the constant hint of interest, the reinforcement of worthiness (or the lack thereof) and the hopes that something more will come of it the next time they meet… 
     Sure today, it seems infinitely colder…  Technology is used to ensure wording is spelled correctly, that the words are typed and neater instead of in the cursive skills of the writer, and it posts infinitely faster than a letter written over the span of days, and delivered days and weeks later by servant or post office…   But does that really change that the source of these messages is still the inherent realm of the heart and the mind?  Of the imagination as to seeing what the person says to them, and envisioning themselves in such a delicate embrace with the writer? 
     No, it doesn’t change.  The constants are still there and extend forward to this time, from that Romantic Time…  For the words written must be an expression from the mind, and carry with it the honest intentions of the heart.  Trust and faith must still be extended from one’s heart towards the writer and vice versa as these correspondences, and these letters of hope and promise go back and forth from one to the other. 

     So how do I earn his trust, and his faith? The most difficult question I routinely find myself facing in this day and age, given we tend to be infinitely more cynical now than ever before.  And it doesn’t make it easier being in my 40s having gone through a hell of a lot of bad and good, and seeing not only the horrors but also the selfishness of my fellow man.  And I know that this man has also seen it as well.  And time is once again needed.  Time to establish.  Time to sort out.  Time to find the evidence of trust and trustworthiness.  Time to sow the seeds of faith…  Heh, time my grandmother often conveyed to me when I asked her, "how did you and grandpa meet?  How long before you realized he was the one?" 

     I admit that I’ve never really been good with time.  Having died once, and then having been told for almost 8 years that I come with an expiration date of 2 years, I tend to still see a year in a moment, and see a minute as forever.  But even if I don’t understand time, I do however understand faith and trust.  And of course, through discipline understand respect all too keenly. 
     I have asked him to define his boundaries and if at any time I scare him or make him uncomfortable, to tell me without fear of repercussion.  For if he doesn’t communicate to me those boundaries, how am I to know when I’ve crossed one? 
     I really do like this man, even if he doesn’t entirely understand why.  Kindred Spirits?  Yes, I hear it in every time talk with each other be it in type, or in voice chat.  I also hear a note, a tone, that not everyone else can readily pick up.  A note as clear as a chime in the wind that I feel excited and calmed hearing.  And of course, attraction…  Not only in the physical, but the mental as well.  And sometimes when he’s calm, and trusting enough to share it a little — his heart.  And I really did like what I saw when he shared a little of it. 

     Well that’s about it for the time being.  I might write one more time before the trip.  Depends on what’s going on here prior to my packing and going.  Until then or the next time.
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