Life as an Extreme Sport

Upside Down

… god I love to turn my little blue world upside down…

It’s grey over on this side of the lake.

I’ve retyped that line several times. My side of the lake? This side of the lake? No, my side – no, this side. Life has turned itself upside down in the last 5 days – I shouldn’t be too surprised, and yet I am.

I just finished reading Mars’ journal. I figured fair was fair; he gave me the URL, and he read mine last night. Overall, I would say reading mine was more difficult for him, than reading his was for me. He wrote sporadically over the last few months, touching upon small sections of his life – I gained greater insight in a few days of talking than I would have picked up from the web journal.

It did twinge and hurt to only be mentioned once, in passing referrence to my car. There appeared to be another referrence of me, as a political concern. I’m not too sure how I feel about that, and I’m not really sure that it matters. His intent was to be over me; talking to him over the weekend I am reassured that though I rarely crossed his mind, he still cared, and still thought of me on occasion.

…inside my head the noise chatter chatter chatter chatter chatter you see I’m afraid…

It was a fun weekend – Friday was definately the highlight, tho. Saturday and Sunday we got too caught up in talking about relationships and life, what should and shouldn’t be and be done… Sunday night was spent talking a lot about this (my journal), and past events that we both thought of while reading.

I wish it had been more fun and carefree, but he told me last night and this morning that he was glad I came back last night. That he wants me to come back soon. On the way out the door, I told him that ‘now the pursuit begins’ – he told me he already has ideas; my heart sang and my body melted.

… you say tell me what that makes us darlin’…

I am afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing or how to do this. I want him, I want us. I want everything to be happy and good and fun and… and I’m terrified I’m going to screw it up. I am afraid he will wake up one morning, wonder what he’s doing, and ask me back out of his life. I am afraid he will regret telling me he wants me, this, us. Afraid he will regret saying he wants to pursue me, that he wants to keep me interested in him. (At least I’ve been able to voice this fear to him.) I know that if I keep being afraid of this, I’ll succeed in creating my own fears. So, deep breath and attempts at banishment.

It’s been an intense five days. Things have gone in directions I would not have thought possible last Wednesday. I really don’t know what to say about it. How do I summarize relief, hopes, dreams, fears into a tidy little package? Do I talk about holding hands in the bar Friday night, waiting for time to pass and talking, calming him down? Do I talk about sitting in the movie, hands, arms, legs twined together as if there wasn’t a chair arm between us? Do I talk about sitting in the Crocodile Saturday afternoon, hearing the same song I sang quietly to his memory a few weeks ago, and actually singing it to him there? Of his reaction to that?

…any kind of touch I think is better than none even upside down…

If you’re reading this, you know what hell the last few months have been, and you know what happiness I’ve found in myself and in others, as well.

And yet. And yet. His touch, his hands, his lips, his eyes and laughter. Touching feet from across the floor, talking. Making dinner for him, sipping wine, talking. Silently reading, working, on the phone, separate. Together.

My heart has wings.