Sunday Newsletter: Coming of Age
No one ever heard her subtleties or mistakes as keenly. No one heard her the way she most deeply heard herself, so brilliant, so vulnerable, so insecure, so confident, so longing, so seeking, so creative, so much like me that I bet the house and left one dream for another, and that is how I came of age.
What was that?
Let’s call it trading character for destiny. In the movies, it’s a helplessness you can’t resist rooting for. In real real life it’s rewarded if there aren’t any tangible sacrifices. Consequently, most were disgusted with me, some even called me a monster.
She loved my accepting, appreciative, nonchalant ear. I loved her cavalier swagger and her breath. To this day, I have never smelled perfume without thinking about how intoxicating it was to unbutton her shirt, kiss the nape of her neck and be sent into a different realm of consciousness.
She loved my indifference to politics and religion but fierce worship and intention to written language and remarkable communication, and the way that mixed with my wide, strong back and work ethic.
I loved her small adjustments, the way she embarrassed people who misunderstood and underestimated her because they only saw her flawless fashion and beauty.
She loved how I could stop time, isolate a moment and feeling helpless to resist. I liked that she never did. Not once ever. She was as much a romantic as I. She appreciated that I could bask in my own version of a superpower, and I appreciated that I was never implicated or encumbered for doing so.
I liked the way she prepared herself for a date, pretended as if I wasn’t there. It was a part of her art, to entertain as others watched. She never once asked if this was the right dress or if that was the way her hair should go. She never doubted herself in a mirror. I’d never witnessed the privilege of true beauty up to that point.
We loved each other – because together, for a brief moment in time – we functioned above the small fraction of our capacity to live fully in the totality of love, of caring, of creating and adventuring through what might otherwise be a dull life. We found one another, and the timing was terrible, but it was one of the most exciting experiences I’ve ever encountered.
The love I had committed to up to that point, in all it’s limits, loneliness and lack of knowledge of myself, resulted in confusion. It was more of a need attachment from the boy I was when we met.
This lover taught me that love is an emotion that can be a true response to an emotion, and therefore an active expression of what is felt, and can never be learned, just acted out and acted upon.
I want to be the strongest version of myself so I have a checklist every day that includes physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health. I know that if I just mark the boxes off this checklist, I’ll be okay
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