I like to think of myself as an educated person. I am well read. I have gone to college. I have also participated in continuing education classes that solidified a lot of what was taught to me on other occasions. I have studied languages, history, both foreign and domestic. In my professional life, I have gained respect and admiration in fields not always known for such accolades.
When it comes to conflicts between science and religion, I am sorry – science wins. Facts are facts.
With my sanity being questionable at the moment, I am at a loss to explain what my emotional state is. I will own being lonely. I will attest to the fact that I wish there was someone laying in bed next to me now, on his laptop or tablet also blogging about the thoughts that are creeping him out at the moment or posting pictures of lumberjacks and firefighters. I am just wanting someone to be there. I have seemingly loss the ability to self validate. No not parking, worth.
I have sought advice from those who promised to haunt me. Yes, take the time now to call back the statements made about being an educated person and a geek. Yes I did just attribute to an assumption that there are ghosts. Ghosts being general purpose term for all things alimentary, lingering energy and what not. Therein lies my conflict. Can a sane, educated person, believe in ghosts?
I lost my Jon almost a year and a half ago. Our anniversary and his birthday just passed. And I haven’t handled it well. everything is still a wound and i had fallen into a depression that would even have pissed me off if someone told me about it. But that was then, this is now. I’ve snapped out of a good part of it only to begin trying to seek answers.
I tend to romanticise aspects of my life, and granted, my perception of it as being romantic is real. It is there. The proof is there to be shown and demonstrated. I’m okay with claiming co-dependency. But really, do those from the ether pass around us thinking let’s freak with Charley. No that would be paranoia. I’m accusing Jon of screwing with my iPod. I have written about it before. See We Need More Bastards. .. and Glorious Bastard, to relive those tales.
Well the iPod sabotage has happen a third time. Even after it was reset to factory condition and all music reloaded. I was driving into Shepherdstown Saturday night. The display read: Keating, Ronan, I Hope You Dance. And I was on my way to meet “him”.
I am truly curious about things forbidden. And have been asked for them to be off-limits. It is hard. I have my own professional distancing to consider, as lame of an excuse as that is. Everyone has their ideals. (Mine is tall, olive complexion, blue eyes, and with any luck Mediterranean.) I know we find love elsewhere. Ideals end up in the sock on the floor next to the bed. But we all have to learn that on our own. But just this once….! Please!
The events of the evening are really of no importance. But it was a growing experience on so many levels.
Something will work out. We have healed apologized and are moving on. We grow or go. Or…I’ll wear him down without mercy and he’ll be loved in spite of himself. If not by me. By somebody worthy of “him”.