Right Here

I feel like wanting to do as little as possible.

I am finding some deep issues about leaving, at all. I am okay going to Mt. Shasta. I am okay with camping for work, but everything else, feels wrong. The trip to eastern Oregon was nice. However, Kentucky was so bad on a spiritual level, that I… I guess I am feeling like this trip to the coast may be pointless. Today, I am feeling like I may forgo it.

Alex may be visiting in the Bay the next time I have off and it will give me an excuse to make a trip to visit other people. I have less then 3 months to figure out where I am going next. I feel like I ought to be applying to ski resorts in Colorado or going to the coast to recon moving out there for winter, but my stronger inclinations are to clean and get everything ready for my next session.

I’ve been crying a lot since I’ve been home this time, as though I could call anything a home at this point. Money is the bane of my existence and I want more than anything a job for winter and a way for Andy to come be with me, although at this point I think he may decide to stick around on the farm and if Renae misses him and he’s still in love with her, then he should go where she is, which I am not feeling. Colorado is too expensive and there’s no economic opportunity for me there, or I would, and all my transplanted friends here would be there. Yet, sometimes I wonder if it’s because I have fallen in love with Mt. Shasta. Colorado’s allure is no match. Then I think that Andy will not go back to Renae because he knows it can never be what it could have been. Better to choose a new course. Maybe.

Yesterday I am realizing my emotions run so much deeper than I would have ever allowed. It shocks me. I am beginning to feel for him the way I did for Ken. He makes me glow inside. I am not glowing again, not yet, because I am not accepting being in love. Another pursuit I feel is pointless. And besides, right now, he is far, far away. I was imagining being in Eureka. That we could get a room together in a big Victorian house and that we will both find some sort of work and somehow survive. I imagine that we have different work schedules and he ropes some of the roommates into helping him cook dinner for me. He makes chocolate raspberry moose pie and gets this girl to drizzle raspberry sauce onto my plate reading, “Will you marry me?” He decides this is a completely impractical, though creative way to propose. Before he left, before he leaves, his mother sees, she knows his heart, those secret parts better than he does. She finds a ring for him to take to me. She likes me. Sometimes it’s just timing, but what does one do in timelessness? I come home, find the dining room table all set and smell amazing food. “What’s all this?”

“Lady,” he comes up behind me, pulling out a chair, reaching around to put the box in my hand, “have a seat.” Good thing he pulled the chair out for me or I might have fallen on the floor.

WTF!?! Where does this come from? How can I even still consider marriage? I was trying to destroy the polarity paradigms. He makes me want him that way, and I know he is no demon. He is a lovely mirror and muse to my being. He reflects my inner longings and drives me to creative fancies in music, poetry, prose, 2-D design, culinary creations. He is my high heart flooded with light and my holy grail of personal Christhood. How could anyone besides me love me, because I have a hard time of it sometimes, and to put myself in someone else’s shoes and look through their eyes… Shared passion, shared horizon, time, friendship, respect, sweetness, romance, but the most important thing of all he has, courage.

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