the year of losing touch

It has been nearly a year since I took on a new twist. I did away with a lot of the political correctness I used to carry around; shed the weight of your happiness as my burden, and I have to say, it has turned into one of the most entertaining years I’ve had.

But entertaining is many miles from fulfilling. I’m happier and safer, but furiously guarded and very much alone. I don’t know if lonely is the word, or if I’m just too callous now to know it when I see it, but all I mean is that no one - not one - has much idea of what goes on in my heart anymore. Not even me, and I used to be an expert.

I lost touch with that part of me. The part that knew the right thing to say to make it better; the part that empathized. The part that could stare longingly. The question now is if I miss it.

No. But yes. But no; mostly no.

But so much yes.

I don’t miss getting hurt, but I miss being able to. I miss being expressive; I miss writing love letters. I don’t miss being so understanding of everybody and everything; I don’t miss never getting angry at you. I don’t miss crying, but I miss tears.

Sometimes I feel at odds with myself; the two distinct portions of me tugging in opposite directions, fighting for attention. The best I can summarize is the old me had a cat, the new a dog.

But some days are overwhelming, and I fall to my knees in the elevator. By my floor I’m back up so no one knows, and no one does. I tell them about my dog and they inquire, “I thought you had a cat.”

She died. I have a lab mix. His name is Finn.

22 February 2008 | uncategorized | Comments