Dämmerung

A friend once told me that one day I would be in a relationship that made me realize how one really was supposed to be. That, sadly enough, I would actually understand how they work, how I work… understand that I was… happy. That idea bounced about in my head for weeks, months, maybe even longer, my mind, my heart, my soul mulling it over, fighting it, alternately embracing and rejecting that notion. That silly, profound notion of happiness. In the end she was right, I’m sure of it, though I’m not quite sure if I know it yet.

It has always seemed to me that the beginning of relationships are the easiest… they are the most awkward and worrisome, but they are also the most exciting and simple periods.

I think that once you get past that, you really know where you stand, you should truly be able to see where things are going, even if you are too blind or stupid or ignorant to realize it at the time. If you really sit back and look, maybe, just maybe you can see into the future. Sometimes I wish I had last time, because I know it would have saved me a lot of stress, heartache and frustration, and a whole lot of anger. But, again, I’m not sure I would want to give up those experiences for anything, no matter how awful they were.

Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m sabotaging it all, that I’m just a screwed up and demented to the point of no return. I fear that I cultivate the arguments and frustrations or that I somehow engage in some sort of campaign of psychological warfare to destroy it all. In those dark crevices of my mind I wonder if I don’t enjoy the misery, but I know I cannot linger on that. I know that I have to fight those thoughts, and those impulses with every ounce of my strength just in case they are real, because anything less would be surrender, would be utter destruction.

I know it is hard in that initial stage to know where things are headed, and since I have the misfortunate (or perhaps the gift) of over-thinking everything, I am sitting here pondering whether it is all going to come crashing down like some castle of building blocks under the wrath of a child’s tantrum. I know that someday I will look back on this and laugh at my ignorance, but for now all I can do is wonder and wish that I could just leave things be.

It terrifies and excites me simultaneously to think of what might come, to think that this happiness welling up in my gut could actually last (and I don’t mean intermittently like last time). To think that I could feel that joy spreading throughout my body, radiating until it feels like I’m going to burst ‘less I release it, unless I lose myself in her arms, against her lips, or with my face pressed against the top of her head like some little kid clinging to a teddy bear. Because, despite the way that this all sounds, I am not all that worried… intellectually, sure, but not in my heart, stomach, or soul.

I know that I’m a fool; that I’m naïve, but the oddest part is that I don’t care. The emotions are too pure, too vibrant to just sit back and let them happen. I cannot help but embrace them, but raise my arms to the cold night sky to stare up at the stars and be… to let out a barbaric “yawp” as every nerve ending in my body lights up like a Christmas tree. I don’t know any other way to do this, any other way to love, than completely, to dive right in and let the waves buffet me and hopefully bring me to shore.

And, I think it just all comes down to something a friend told me, that once all the worrying and overanalyzing and everything else is done, you have to let it all go and just be.

So, I will just be. And while I know all those demons will be in the dark recesses of my mind, I’m just going to ignore them, because “the world is puddle-wonderful” and I wouldn’t have this any other way.