I imagine that it’s funny how I think about relationships. I have a couple of little triggers that make me think “success” or “failure”. The automatic cooperation that comes with years of partnership. The way my aunt and uncle would make a bed together or the way Rick and Audrey do the same. The way my brother and his wife execute little tasks of domesticity with little effort and less thought but with perfect coordination. It’s not something my parents did, or if it was, it wasn’t something I was aware of.
It’s the way Heather and I work together – when one stumbles the other steps in and takes up the slack. When she breaks a string I take her part and when I miss a word she sings it through. We’re invested in one another’s Lives, in our failure or success. I have a couple of friends like that – and when I fall apart they sweep me up, take me in, brush me off and know that I’ll come to my senses. It’s a trust that my crazy’s not permanent.
One of my favourite people recently said “don’t play in my crazy”… I’ve got my own crazy to play in, I suppose, to write about and to impliment. I imagine one day having that partner in domestic locomotion but I don’t know that it will happen. It seems a little more distant everyday and I Live through my Love of other people’s homes and personal tranquilities, the stability of a home Life that might never really be mine. I Loved watching one woman putting herself together for the day, make up and motion and hair brush and armour. And I Love watching Heather brush her teeth and I want someone to one day know how long I take in the bathroom and to know that for some reason I always end up with toothpasty lather on the left side of my moustache and NEVER on my right and to Love me for it.
I’m tense at night, trying to fall asleep. I sit up and right songs like it’s my job (oh yeah) but I need to be functional in the daylight hours. I need to make the system run and that requires sleep and sometimes pouring out my thoughts here are the only way to make them settle down. Let them run around the space outside my head for a little while, let them breathe and tucker themselves out. My skull is far, far too contained for the wars going on in there.