"I tend to remember more about what love is not "

[omnia_mutantur]

weird stats. old lj - no secret crushes, 2 public and 3 ex. new lj - 1 secret, three public, no ex crushes. maybe i'm more likeable in this journal. though you would think i would have noticed if people had public crushes on me, since that's sort of the implication behind the word public.

well, maybe you wouldn't think. i know my selfimage has a few more dents than my actual persona. (like the difference between a-scratch-in-the-paint and a totaled-car kind of 'few more')

i keep contemplating posting to a community i read about, but i'm still apologetic about how much and how quickly i read, and so i start, and realize that i'm still at a book every other day or so, unless i hit something really meaty and self-deprecation stops my fingers (since after The Virgin Blue by Chevalier, I'm planning on Asa as i knew him, to round out Kaysen's works, both of which should go pretty quickly, i'm going to start a chunk of Byatt, which should take quite some time.)

it's odd how some things can come upon me all of a sudden, and snap my head around like a slap by someone who swings from the shoulder. not only have i never been seriously involved with anyone before, i've certainly never been seriously involved with someone fresh out of an unsuccessful marriage. and i read old emails, and old lj posts to remind myself i always knew what i was getting into, and what i ended up getting was a thousand times better than anything i ever though i was going to get, that it's not a burden to hold onto the policy of taking what i get. and it's not a burden at all, but since it was a policy of resignation, fitting the same sentiment to something more celebratory is linguistically challenging.

but where do i draw the line between not making unreasonable demands, or not telling him things because i think they'll do nothing but hurt, and keeping things from him that i shouldn't? i tried to explain to him last night just a little bit of what i'm risking, how silly it looks from the outside, because if he gets tired of me, most likely i'll be broke, without a roof, and miles and miles from my friends, because i never stay anywhere longer than i'm welcome. and it's not that i mind, it's not that these thoughts give me pause, but they can't be put away entirely, i'm not strong enough to believe that someone will never tire of me, with my endless processing, my endless challenging. and maybe this is what faith looks like, a terrifying thought, but one i keep coming back to. but for now, i'll leave it under the rug. love is still giving me a bit of a fight, i'm not sure i'm up to taking faith on in a fair fight.

i'm longing for those pre-spring february/march days, when fifty feels warm and i can drive with the windows down, and i don't want spring to find me without ink if i can work my way around to not feeling cool enough for tattoo parlours. i'm wondering if spring smells as differently as winter did. and it's another day i should run errands, but two hours before work ends find me sniffly and achy and wanting nothing so much as my bed.

and i still hate my job.

Comments

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

so ideally, if you could live anywhere in Mainland US, where would it be?

it seems kind of exciting, knowing that you will be moving, but not knowing where...it's kind of like putting a tack into a map at random...

oh yeah, and what was your question about everyone's self-descriptions about?

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

sorry for the double post; my computer froze and i thought it did not post the first time around.