Blue is at present the best color to describe me. I am very fond of it; blue is soft and calming and has been the most beautiful color to me for many years. It is seductive, charming and hard to let go of, but I feel I really need to. I need to shift into a happier color, a happier place. (I know just the color too, it's been runner up for a little over a year now, that faithful best friend sitting on the sidelines of my life) Yellow. Because yellow is intensely alive, friendly, but at the same time can still have that aura of peace and comfort. I think, as a dose of self-therapy, the next room I paint should be yellow. It will be hard, because I know in my heart I am still faithful to blue. Instead of creating the living environment of numbing emotions into a state of total rest maybe I can jump start some life into my everyday. Good morning yellow! Rise and shine, really. I keep thinking of this really adorable young man that helped me and my mom with our paint a month or so ago. We got to talking about colors and our favorites and how they reflected personality. He was very alive, chipper, upbeat and he said his favorite color was yellow "zing". Said like a caffeine jolt.
So frustration still reigns. I'm doing this on-a-day-to-day-basis thing with feelings right now and it's hard. But I can do it, there is resolution in that at any rate. But it doesn't mean pain is extricated from my circumstances or outlook. It is very much there, pain, pain, pain. That makes it sound like it's really intense and it isn't. More what I mean is I have resigned myself to the certainty of pain. To the reality of its presence in life, even everyday life at times. For the most part pain has become a very bearable part of my life but I'm still not excited about going through it. I think pain is the result of turmoil, a state in which something desired can not be experienced. And the absence of resolution as an option. I thought about giving examples, but I really don't feel like it. Right now what I desire is to go to NY under a certain condition, under certain circumstances, in leu of certain things having happened and I am experiencing pain right now because I don't see that as happening and I'm anticipating some anxiety in the transition phase. Me getting used to my new life. Because that is what it will be. I think to some degree I'm thinking about what it will be like too much and causing myself unnecessary pain in that respect. (done that many times before, cast many a long shadow over a future that should have been completely open in my mind. But there I was dooming it.) Not that I'm dooming my future in new york, but some of my thoughts are pretty pathetic, like- I won't be in the sort of circumstances to make my own friends, all I will have will be John's which means I'll end up being this sad loner who sits in her apartment doing art all day or reading books (Not that that is such a bad prospect, I, in fact, love both of those things.) But I want to have a community, my own community where I at least marginally fit in and find satisfaction in my friendships and interactions. I rather hope for some romantic relationships too, they don't have to be perfect or _the_ one of all ones, but I think a change from five years of single status would be more than welcome. (okay, there have been three brief semi-romantic experiences in those five years.) But it's been a big draught!
I was satisfactorily productive today, I finally dismantled the remainder of fence pieces. Which, in all honesty, are pretty disgusting and involve some of the more repulsive attributes of nature, like rot, unidentifiable insect nests or formations with gooey residue, suspicious colors, dead things... Oh, and of course, a plethora of rusted out nails that make me hope, hope, hope that my tetanus shot is, in fact, up to date. I also finally conquered a pile of newspapers that had mounted in a corner of my room for what has been pretty nearly a year now. The oldest one I found was from August, heh. I did not tell my grandparents on the phone tonight that I will be moving to NY next month. I just really didn't want to. I think on some level I expected it to be trouble, but in reality how much trouble could it really be? They don't actually have any power or influence over what I do. And that is the first time I've reflected on that truth and recognized it. It's almost sad, like they are excluded from any true importance in my life. Man, now I'm just making myself sad. Oh god, relationships can have so many depressing aspects.
Is there anything else I wanted to process? Of course part of that unspoken desire-of-certain-circumstances is him. I realize I have specific wants that aren't likely to get met. And the ultimate question is how do I actually want to handle my side of things. And here enters the working on feeling out moment by moment, being patient and actually waiting to hear from myself. In time I generally do, maybe not as soon as I expected or was hoping, but I hear. I think what is in the way is the pain right now, grief. I think that has to run its course and then the next phase will present itself. Which I have some suspicion about, but don't think my radar is right. That would line up more with ideal me than actual me. Ideally I wanted to see him each weekend up til my last. That would have been the heart of on-my-terms. But instead it seems completely up in the air, maybe I won't see him again, maybe I won't even tell him about leaving, not because I choose not to, to just abandon him, but rather because it becomes moot and there is no point in sharing because I don't see him again.
He is too old, not physically but mentally, culturally. There is a huge gap between our lives and I feel like I have fallen into it, my own rabbit hole. It's amazing to see how some one can use something so simple as language to communicate, indirectly of course, disapproval or approval. Down to a greeting, the difference between a Hi- and a Hey you-. One instantly is formal, distancing and businesslike, the other personal, expressing a sense of intimacy between writer and reader, affectionate. Like trying to train a dog, your behavior is meant to be the indicator for what is acceptable in their own and what isn't. He is attempting to train me. Sigh. This dog is reflective and thinking. There is the double layer of my own agenda, in so far as the concessions I make are to serve my own interests or purposes... In the end I choose autonomy too. As deeply as it is possible for me to go. He is another last minute man, which is an indication to me that the prospect of being with me isn't hugely important, it is put off, no pressure. I have played that game with other men too and I don't like it. It is time for it to end, which probably means not being in relationships with those kinds of men anymore.
I haven't had dinner, I should eat.
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