There are so many different sides to ourselves.
I wake up one morning and the me I knew is completely gone, replaced with a new version -- not always a better version, although I know I'm always moving forward -- and I wonder what happened over night. Did a dream change me? Did the stars and the planets in the sky change me? Where does the change begin, originate, formulate?
Some days I have no will to do anything. Even doing nothing is exhaustingly boring. It just doesn't feel any good. Certainly when I am forced to be alone, which amplifies the feelings ten fold. I try different attitudes: standing, sitting, laying in the sun, biking, hanging around strangers, hanging around people I know, coming back to being by myself. None of it works. I then wait for the shift in the night, when my subconscious gets to work on me and my conscious mind gives it room to become different again. Who knows if it will be better or worse ... but at least it will be different.
With the man that I love gone for so long, I've ridden waves which I have conquered and some which I have fallen from. Fear has touched my heart in deep, deep places. Love has touched my heart and bounced back into the world and made everything beautiful and bright. Back and forth like this for months and months, and when the moment is so near to see him again, when I feel so amazingly giddy and have butterflies in my stomach, the wait is extended one more day, one more day, one more than I expected, and slowly my excitement and happiness turn sour, they turn to anxiety and frustration, "I want him now", I want it all right now. I don't want to wait any longer.
And yet I know, the expectation is what lets me down. I let myself down, he does not. He is doing exactly as he should.
It's all good in the hood when there's so much to do, when everyone is having fun, when my best friends are around and make me feel at home. When they're not around, I reminisce and I am grateful for the times when I was blessed to be in their presence. I am glad I have the ability to remember, for there are so many moments which I want to keep tucked away neatly, closeby, for easy access at any time. The memory of a face. Of a word. Of an emotion. But I do admit, I must become better at remembering. Remembering all of the little things as well as the big things, because they're all so important. With so much happening all at once, it's hard to hold on to all of it, and not much of it can come back on demand (I know some can do this so well!)
The best thing I can do is push him. The best thing I can do is love him, and love what he chooses to do, and say yes to him, say yes to every instance, every opportunity. Distance makes the heart grow fonder -- and weak and fearful and full of joy and full of sorrow and full of a rollercoaster of emotions -- and it will all be worth it at the end of my very long, substancial life.