Tuesday, September 05, 2006


[Saudade] The inimitable Cesária Évora and some of my favorite fado folks will be in heavy rotation for a while, I do believe.

Preface: This'll be an incredibly disjointed entry, meant less as navel gazing or wallpaper wallowing as a processing of what is happening in my brain and heart. Neither of which is pleased with me at the moment. At all.

From Farscape, is a short exchange between John and Aeryn when they know they're likely doomed, but have admitted the depth of their emotions to one another.
John: You know what scares the hell out of me? From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I could never see the end.
Aeryn: What scares me is I always could.

I don't know how that applies to this situation but it was a thought that rolled though my head in the early hours this morning. Of how doom and desire and destiny - if you want to call it or believe in that - can converge. Beautiful things happen when they ought not. How we make decisions understanding the possibilities, but not understanding their possible weight or deeper impact. On how what can mean something quite cursory today can become something incredibly significant very quickly under the right circumstances. Less in a star crossed sense, but in the sense that they create a kind of moment and a space. Almost an emotional singularity. One that's both beyond definiton or expectation, but one that has such distilled strength and pull as to profoundly affect its surroundings. Ultimately, it's these kind of moments that make being human magic. In my humble estimation, that is. Even when they break your heart.

It never occurred to me that Joe wouldn't go back to her, that part always seemed clear to me. Ironically, that's exactly one of the things that released me to be as open and transparent as I was with him, what deeply fueled an intimacy I'm not sure I ever recall experiencing with anyone else, on all of the levels that we touched, and we touched on a great deal. Being so cavalier about things, what additionally didn't occur to me was that I would become so attached, that our exchange would become so rich and meaningful. I mean, I knew I could and that it might, on a purely logical level, but let's consider my track record, shall we? Which is to say, I knew where it could go but paid little heed as my famed package of altruism and emotional distance has always kept me so very safe.

Even as I watch him walk away to fill a dream he's had for so long and find happiness with someone else, I can neither be angry with him or feel regret, let alone bitterness. [....Though I do have to admit that working in a very busy date restaurant right now is something of a Faustian bargain and quite possibly the ultimate appetite suppressant.] I feel, in a number of ways that I've brushed against a possibility that has altered my world view. In a good way: I've discovered something I really didn't know existed and that gives me hope.

On one of the sign in pages for flickr there's a quote from Agnes Repplier: A puppy is but a dog, plus high spirits minus common sense. I think that's an apt description of my heart. It's important to understand that there's a part of me that's genuinely happy for him to have this chance, regardless of how much I want to be the source of that happiness and desire [and, Lord, do I.] Regardless of how much it hurts. And I think it's no secret that it does...and even as I prepare to say goodbye and figure out what the hell is next and how to fill the many hours a day that definitively became his temporal and emotional real estate in my world. Even then, I know that should the two of them do what they have to do and it not work out; should he turn up on my doorstep after getting himself worked out and want to give it a go, barring a conflicting committment on my part, I would do just that. In a heartbeat. Silly, stupid Frisbee, indeed.

Conversely, the chances of that actually happening are so slim to none as to be beyond calculation or consideration.

In plain English, I realize that while hope may spring eternal, I am absolutely SOL.

How's that for a "What I Did This Summer" essay?

On a lighter & happier note [read: excuse me while I preen for a moment], not only did one of my most admired fellow SF photogs add me as a contact, but two of my most admired fellow bloggers, 'bought some of my blogshares'. Hardly Noble Prize and Poet Laureate status, but enough to put a much needed wiggle in my walk.

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