January 29th, 2003
|jimbojones||11:44 am - on intimacy, and the dubious pride of good ukemi|
If you don't know who I am, and who Laura is, this entry isn't going to make a whole lot of sense. And hell, it might not even then. (Also, most of you are probably going to have to google out ukemi to make any sense out of the title.) Sorry about that...
I'm sitting here this morning, trying to get my ass in gear and off to Start The Day, fighting a losing battle with a gently melancholy and deeply somber mood that just isn't very interested in Going And Doing Stuff. I'm not going to go into the long of it here, but the short of it is, I talked to Laura last night, and... well, and I'm here and she's in Boston. And that's what, it would seem, will turn out to make all the difference.
Fuck, it's difficult to know quite what to say - even to an online journal, viewed as a fictional character (rather than a collection of people, some of whom you know, some of whom you don't) who you can conveniently assume to have as much or as little background as you like.
I never expected to become as intimate with Laura as I did. I've known her, in one capacity or another, for about three years now... but each of us has changed a lot over those three years, and there was a lot we never really discovered until we, each for our separate reasons, had the chance and the motive to see each other truly as individuals, rather than as members of groups with various associated connotations. Meeting again in person after a few months of that paradigm shift led to an experience I know neither of us was prepared for. We could have pretended it was a simple fling, and most would say we should have. The circumstances were simply... not optimal. But even so, it just didn't seem right to sit back and pretend to a lack of something that, well, was a long, long damn way from lacking.
"Circumstances", though, do have a nasty tendency of eventually rearing their inopportune head, even when you would least like them to, and I suppose they have. And the closing of a door, however gently, will inevitably hurt - and it does. On the other hand, screaming and crying and getting all gothed out isn't so much what happens when you lose something you care about, as when you lose something you took for granted. And "something" is more appropriate than "someone", because while we've lost or given up an aspect of a relationship, we haven't lost each other as people.
So, yeah, I'm more than a little melancholy. More than a little wistful. More than a little of a lot of things that are a long way from cheerful. But I'm okay, and it's okay, and life does go on. And I have the dubious pride of my ukemi to carry me through until things pick back up.
Current Mood: somber
Current Music: Incubus - Pardon Me