Wednesday, January 28, 2009
the fourth, the fifth.
we had such a wonderful weekend, all birthday for the monkey all the time. i took him to a crazy expensive hotel that was running a sunday night special and we lived pretend luxe for about 24 hours. which, honestly, as much as there's stuff i'd like to do and things i'd prefer not to worry about, is right about enough. i felt so relaxed, and we had a few of those sappy, amazing in-love moments that transcend the here and now.
i'm sure the drugs helped.
but still. it was like someone handed me a polaroid of what life would be like if i could let go of my bitter and at least half of my anxiously selfish. (and grab onto a room service champagne cocktail.) i'm not so bad, but this glimpse of what it'd be like to be generous, all the time? as the base coat, as the default setting? gah. it was marvelous. kind of scary-marvelous.
and then we came home, and there was about 24 hours of afterglow until a perfectly natural argument erupted. but it was one of those repeaters, the ones you have over and over again. those are the ones that kill. maybe precisely because they're important and necessary and ineffectual. and while the dilemma and the anxiety were real, the part of me that's still in that two person spa bathtub in manhattan beach with personal chromatherapy controls was all like:
maybe you could just let go.
maybe. i don't know. don't tell anyone.
i'm sure the drugs helped.
but still. it was like someone handed me a polaroid of what life would be like if i could let go of my bitter and at least half of my anxiously selfish. (and grab onto a room service champagne cocktail.) i'm not so bad, but this glimpse of what it'd be like to be generous, all the time? as the base coat, as the default setting? gah. it was marvelous. kind of scary-marvelous.
and then we came home, and there was about 24 hours of afterglow until a perfectly natural argument erupted. but it was one of those repeaters, the ones you have over and over again. those are the ones that kill. maybe precisely because they're important and necessary and ineffectual. and while the dilemma and the anxiety were real, the part of me that's still in that two person spa bathtub in manhattan beach with personal chromatherapy controls was all like:
maybe you could just let go.
maybe. i don't know. don't tell anyone.
