"There is a difference between fact and truth," he said, and I found us leaning forward in our seats, nodding in response,
"Whether or not something is real, doesn't matter as much as your conviction that it is true."
We spend every moment of our waking lives, choosing to ignore and avoid all the infinite amount of moments that take us from start point to end point. At a stop light, we wait for the green man (that is actually white) to come on, and then we scurry across. We are preoccupied with getting to the other side. We are preoccupied with what comes after the crossing.
We are preoccupied with our end point.
But from this side of the road to the other, there are an infinite amount of moments that we actively choose to ignore and disregard.
The car that slows the moment he sees the amber light from 50 feet away. The car that speeds up when he sees the amber light, and then screeches to a halt inches from the white line. The car that speeds up and makes it past the light before it turns red.
These are all moments.
the driver drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you cross the road.
The driver who stops to sip his coffee. The driver who finishes up her eyeliner.
The lady behind you who ambles along with her shopping cart, even when the amber hand comes up with its numbers flashing. The man beside you who walked with ease and then quickened his pace in response to the amber hand.
These are all moments.
And we choose to ignore them simply because we haven't the time, we're distracted, we're everything else but interested.
In this exact same way, we ignore the person in front of us.
Language is a barrier, and you can do a lot more without saying anything. As long as the person in front of you is breathing, they are giving you something. They are offering you something for you to take, and you are doing likewise. Whether it is a warning to stay away, or an invitation to get to know you better, they are offering you something.
And we ignore this; this non-verbal communication, this exchange that goes beyond words. We shut out silences and fill it instead with words because it is easier than sitting and feeling each other.
We do this because we don't want to be socially responsible for that random chap on the train, or the girl in the Honda Civic that pulled up beside you.
There are things that are mine, and mine alone to know. There are other things that I do and I like sharing with those closest to me.
And there is quite a bit of me that I leave for the world. I suppose I don't mind myself being as open and as frank as possible. And as much as I can, I try quite earnestly to keep at that.
I think right about now,
I'm grappling with the notion or the (albeit vague) feeling that it's not so much me that she needs as much as it is someone.
And that right now, I'm not that person. Or it has so been chosen that I will not be that person because I am a little bit far away, which of course makes sense.
This isn't laced with any sort of insecurity or jealousy. Right now, in my head, it's just going,
"Well this is how it feels, and this is the situation as I perceive it."
Can I do anything about it? Nope. Is this the truth of the matter? The truth is in my perception, whether or not this is, in fact, the case, is an entirely different matter altogether.
Am I sad? Well here's the thing, I cannot possibly be sad (and I truly mean this), if someone that I care about immensely and am terribly in love with is happy and content and comfortable.
From this point to the time I land, there have been, there are and there will be, an infinite amount of moments. Not physically being in the same space doesn't necessarily mean missing out on those moments, because that is a moment in itself.
And from the time I land, to the point where our time together is up, there will also be series after series after series of infinite amounts of moments.
I can be there. I can. I would like to. Most of me wants to. Just like I can be there now.
But how far one gets with this intent, is very largely dependent on the other person too.
I don't suppose it makes very much sense to be around when you're not really needed or wanted.
And there's also always that whole, "in this frame of time" thing going on.
A bit like chess.
Who happens to be where, while also here while also this that and the other.
I don't like thinking about all of it like this, to be honest. But I'm trying to very brutally break down everything, in the hopes of finding a smattering of words that makes some sort of sense, at least to me.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is,
there is a huge, gaping, non-physical distance that I find myself staring at.
And I'm not quite sure what to do.
Never the sort who could quite be bothered with the fixing, I seem to have found myself wanting to do that with you. It still takes me aback but, ta dah.
At the same time I'm also faced with the unanswered question of why it feels like this, if I am simply perpetuating the situation and if it's something that will end up being a recurring issue. Because, well, because it isn't the loveliest thing to be dealing with I guess.
There is also a part of me that wonders (and this might prompt shout of, "YES, you douche! you're perpetuating this and how you're feeling with your rubbish!"),
if maybe I fit just for that frame of time.
There's a lot of furthering of this piece of thought to do,
but this is the best I can come up with for the Now.
I'm trying, really I am.
The whole point was to see what happens and how we deal, right?
So, if this is our Oh Shit-moment or our What The Fuck's Happening-moment then I'd like to see what we'll do, having been thrown into such ambiguity.
In any case,
I would like, I would like very much, to be there for the infinite number of moments that take you from one point to the next and to the point after that. I have never felt as such before. This I am acutely aware of.
But it's less about me than it is about you. And if you'd rather me not, then there isn't much else I can do now is there?
I'd also quite like to be there for all the bits and pieces that will take us from one point to the other and to the one after that. Of this I am incredibly sure.
This thing we've got, it seems like the most frikkin' organic thing I've ever had. And raw as it is, as unsure as I am,
I'm not minding it one bit.
When I hold on to that, I feel just a tad better.
November 30th 2010, Tuesday 2:20am