Jesus Christ
Every now and then I have these moments of what I'm hoping ISN'T perfect clarity. I call them my Jesus Christ moments. They're the moments when you're getting water from the tap, thinking about easter eggs and ranch dressing, and all of a sudden you're hit with what feels like an absolute truth about yourself.
Little epiphanies that blindside you when you're really not looking to be all that introspective. When you're kind of content in your delusional world. I'd call them my Jesus Fucking Christ moments, but there's still that tiny bit of Catholic my mom instilled in me, even though she was a Jehovahs Witness. She grew up Catholic, and you don't get rid of that shit. Ever. I mean, if being a Jehovahs Fucking Witness didn't scrub the Catholic from her soul, I'm pretty sure nothing could. Being told by God that Buddha is the better man... wouldn't make a dent in that basic Catholic iron core.
Anyways. A nugget of respect still lies in my heart for that fictional figure. So, my Jesus Christ moment tonight happened, unsurprisingly, at the water cooler. I was thinking about me, of course, because I think about me a lot. A LOT. Too much. Thinking about me, feeling the cold water fill up my Skyy vodka bottle water bottle, and all of a sudden I think "Fuck. I'm an idiot." Why am I an idiot? Let's find out. Self, why am I an idiot?
"I don't want to be in a serious relationship. I REALLY don't want to be in a serious relationship. So, what do I do? I invite a man to come live with me. A virtual stranger. I sleep in the same bed as him every single night. I cuddle up to his extremely warm bulk (srsly, the man has an incredibly efficient internal combustion engine revving in there. I have to fight the cats every fucking night for some back space) every night. I fight with him sometimes, snark at him in passive aggressive little tiffs that only couples get into, think about his health and welfare more than my own, have sex with him in furious bouts of carnality, have monkish periods where we don't even look at each other as sexual beings... I do pretty much everything that people do in relationships. BUT, we're not in love, so it's ok. It's not scary. I can walk away if I need to. GUESS THE FUCK WHAT, DUMBASS??? YOU CAN'T WALK AWAY. You might not be in love, but you're committed. And how fucking stupid is that? You're committed to a relationship that isn't a relationship. Smart. You nicely solved your fear of commitment and love issues. So, now you're in a committed non-relationship, with someone who you like an awful lot, but who isn't your forever love. HOW. THE FUCK. DO YOU DO THESE THINGS TO YOURSELF??? You're smart. You're self aware. Too self aware. But you sort of blindly stumble into these situations, like a little raver on too much E. "Oh, hi! I don't know why I'm in bed with 18 men, but it's all good". Smart, self. Real smart."
Sometimes I'm convinced that my subconscious staged a coup a few years back, after deciding that my conscious self was incapable of making me happy. It's a quiet power behind the throne sort of deal, where my subconscious makes my conscious believe it's making all these decisions for itself. Or it drugs my conscious so it'll shut up and go along quietly for the ride. I'm roofying myself, basically.
I thought about that little epiphany a lot. It came from a conversation with Julie, where in I explained exactly what Trevor and I are to each other, and it all made so much sense. It sounded so healthy and good.
I think my conscious kind of rebelled a little bit. It thrust some basic facts forward that my sub had been hiding behind my adrenal glands.
So. It still feels healthy and good for the most part. I still like what I have, what we've created. But I'm not really allowed to be blind to the level of commitment I've already invested into this. Down that path lies some serious passive aggressive snarking and, eventually, heartache.
Jesus Christ, though. Fuck those "epiphanies".
Little epiphanies that blindside you when you're really not looking to be all that introspective. When you're kind of content in your delusional world. I'd call them my Jesus Fucking Christ moments, but there's still that tiny bit of Catholic my mom instilled in me, even though she was a Jehovahs Witness. She grew up Catholic, and you don't get rid of that shit. Ever. I mean, if being a Jehovahs Fucking Witness didn't scrub the Catholic from her soul, I'm pretty sure nothing could. Being told by God that Buddha is the better man... wouldn't make a dent in that basic Catholic iron core.
Anyways. A nugget of respect still lies in my heart for that fictional figure. So, my Jesus Christ moment tonight happened, unsurprisingly, at the water cooler. I was thinking about me, of course, because I think about me a lot. A LOT. Too much. Thinking about me, feeling the cold water fill up my Skyy vodka bottle water bottle, and all of a sudden I think "Fuck. I'm an idiot." Why am I an idiot? Let's find out. Self, why am I an idiot?
"I don't want to be in a serious relationship. I REALLY don't want to be in a serious relationship. So, what do I do? I invite a man to come live with me. A virtual stranger. I sleep in the same bed as him every single night. I cuddle up to his extremely warm bulk (srsly, the man has an incredibly efficient internal combustion engine revving in there. I have to fight the cats every fucking night for some back space) every night. I fight with him sometimes, snark at him in passive aggressive little tiffs that only couples get into, think about his health and welfare more than my own, have sex with him in furious bouts of carnality, have monkish periods where we don't even look at each other as sexual beings... I do pretty much everything that people do in relationships. BUT, we're not in love, so it's ok. It's not scary. I can walk away if I need to. GUESS THE FUCK WHAT, DUMBASS??? YOU CAN'T WALK AWAY. You might not be in love, but you're committed. And how fucking stupid is that? You're committed to a relationship that isn't a relationship. Smart. You nicely solved your fear of commitment and love issues. So, now you're in a committed non-relationship, with someone who you like an awful lot, but who isn't your forever love. HOW. THE FUCK. DO YOU DO THESE THINGS TO YOURSELF??? You're smart. You're self aware. Too self aware. But you sort of blindly stumble into these situations, like a little raver on too much E. "Oh, hi! I don't know why I'm in bed with 18 men, but it's all good". Smart, self. Real smart."
Sometimes I'm convinced that my subconscious staged a coup a few years back, after deciding that my conscious self was incapable of making me happy. It's a quiet power behind the throne sort of deal, where my subconscious makes my conscious believe it's making all these decisions for itself. Or it drugs my conscious so it'll shut up and go along quietly for the ride. I'm roofying myself, basically.
I thought about that little epiphany a lot. It came from a conversation with Julie, where in I explained exactly what Trevor and I are to each other, and it all made so much sense. It sounded so healthy and good.
I think my conscious kind of rebelled a little bit. It thrust some basic facts forward that my sub had been hiding behind my adrenal glands.
So. It still feels healthy and good for the most part. I still like what I have, what we've created. But I'm not really allowed to be blind to the level of commitment I've already invested into this. Down that path lies some serious passive aggressive snarking and, eventually, heartache.
Jesus Christ, though. Fuck those "epiphanies".
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