Finity

And in this moment, there’s the notion you can’t do anything and the notion you have to do everything.

Remember, please, the something in between.

Here’s some thoughts.  I don’t care if you read them, I only care that I want to write them and do it now, right now while they’re hot from the oven.

  • The loneliness right now is pretty nuts.  It’s all in the mind, but the mind is the easiest coffee shop for me to hang out at.  I don’t know if six months ago I could have been the sort of person I am right now, in this instant, this person that is zero percent ready to date, but 36% ready to roll the dice and try and just fucking start some shit. I was so tied up in him then, just as he was telling me that we were everything in the world that is the klein bottle of messages and emails and phone calls and absolutely nothing if I’d ever want to step outside and breathe the free air.  I talked about all sorts of things, but the coffee shop just kept playing Patsy Kline and I would pour another cup, looking wistfully into the grey digital, imaginative space on old Hwy 23 and say I couldn’t hurt him like that.
  • Now, our talk is brief, fumbling, frustrating.  I want to say – I will say, if I’m given half a chance – that I’m pulling back because I can’t just destroy myself on something that’s never going to happen.  I’m bailing, not driving towards terminal velocity.  And I have to think that he’s doing the same thing, that he’s understanding without me asking if he’s reading my caution and putting on his own brakes, protecting his own heart.  And that, in this moment, infuriates me.   Because how much of our lives are spent on this British fucking farce, endless rooms with doors, endless pasty people on settees aggressively not saying how fucking done they are.
  • And that leaves me here, on the bed, in the bath, in the rooms with the doors where I can be as done or as just starting as I want to be, there’s nobody to hear my starched and coiffed monologues.  I am exhausting myself.
  • I think this is part of the medication.  I had this moment today after slugging down another coffee drink/low-carb shake situation (thinking I was safe a few hours after initially taking the Levo) and this was many hours later, where I felt super overclocked.  Just like I was an endless battery that could never lose power.  This happened a few days ago, same drink, same feeling of trying to calm down and take a nap and my eyes bugging open like there was a bullet train passing through.  Should be of note, I suspect.
  • I think part of this bullet train, though, is the sense that I’m doing it.  Look, ma, no hands! And yet, we’re still in the long early stages (which are really the only stages I know) and I have to pass through this place to get to anywhere new.  But I have moved the scale a titsch, you know?  I have done a non-zero amount of work.  And so I’m finding the momentum even of a .8 lb loss this morning to be exponential.  We’re inching up on 12 lbs in a month.  I want to just think about it so hard that the final goal weight is reality. And like everything in the universe post-Big Bang, you gotta wait for it, be a millisecond or a many, many, many minutes strung together.  A result that can’t exist until 100 sleeps from now, and only if, I keep after it all the way in between.
  • See what the new day brings.

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