Liquid Nonsense

Of all the The Postal Service's, I think my favorite is "your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures."

This one little line has earned itself a special place in my heart because every time I hear it I am reminded of my own little quirks. Specifically, I am reminded of one in particular that manifests itself as me wanting to look to the past, or less-positive parts of reality at the very least, and start stacking myself up against what I find. This oddity sometimes has the power to make me a little depressed, sometimes frustrated, and other times it does not make me feel anything in particular. At first glance I wonder if this is really some kind of deep-seated, self-destructive tendency of mine. Part of me secretly hopes it is serving a higher function, mostly to make me more resilient and mentally stable.

Several months ago Phil and I traded blog archives for our respective web sites that we no longer operate or maintain. It was a unique chance to read about someone else's past in a very visceral way; all the writing was done at the time. I guess what distinguishes this from reading any other friend's blog is my personal relationship with Phil. I maintain it is essentially impossible for me to maintain any sort of objectivity when reading things in the past, no matter how far removed I might be at the time of writing. There really is not any way to read about your love's previous encounters with other men.

Is it jealousy? Is that part of the emotional mish-mash? Sitting here and pondering it I suspect that it is. On some level I think I am jealous of men in his past. Is that even remotely a healthy response? I would imagine it is, mostly because I refuse to accept that I am the only person who ever feels this way. Well, that does not make it healthy, just more common.

In my heart of hearts I know a large part is my need to feel significant in a big way. Phil has made me feel like a king, but sometimes glimpsing in to the past divorces me of my modern-day-relationship context and it is like I lose touch for just a brief second. Those brief seconds serve as semi-uncomfortable grounding experiences. It gives me a chance to ask questions like "do I make him feel that way?," and I know the answer is simultaneously yes and no. Yes, because three weeks from now we will be celebrating the one-year mark of our relationship, and No, because I am a wholly and completely different person.

It is a very rare time when I do not know what I am feeling or what function something serves, but why I like inducing this sort of ennui in myself is going to have to remain a mystery for a bit longer. I talk with him about it and that usually gets me a kiss on the forehead and a "silly boyfriend," comment. And I am totally all right with that. Actually, I bet it is because once and a while I really do like being emotionally taken care of and sometimes the associated feeling of vulnerability brings me all that much closer to him. Ultimately, who knows?

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Side note:
A coworker of mine did something that kind of comes off as a mini-tribute. This is easily the most flattering thing he's ever done for me. Details are here.