the weekend finds me saying goodbye to two… one, a person i thought a friend who chooses not to be so, and the other, a tender delight who even now, is on a plane to his home.
the first, a person i thought to enjoy many years of friendship with… though perhaps their first words upon the end of my first week here should have been forewarning. they said to me, ‘you know, you’re not at all like shandala.’
it was an interesting discussion for many reasons, not the least of which was the ease with which they decided and then, were seemingly surprised and perhaps even angry to find that yes, i’m a human being just like anyone else. filled with flaws, emotions, and the various issues that all humans grapple with from time to time.
since that time, apparently, they have decided that ‘being human’ is not acceptable to them… and, as i am not able in the real world to be the perfect one portrayed by the character through which i explore and enjoy the ideal of such, i am rejected and condemned, convicted by ‘i do not think you are a very nice person’ and summarily abandoned.
this is not a new thing. it is odd, the manner in which people polarize in relation to me. and i have never been willing to grovel for ‘permission’ to be who i am. so, watching them slip over the horizon, i sit here and feel a vague medley of pensiveness, resentment, frustration, disgust, and disappointment.
i think about the many people in my life who are ‘not perfect’ and ponder this odd dynamic. it takes quite a lot of damage done to me before i will so blithely ‘write someone off’ and i am forever bemused and somewhat confused by the ease with which it seems so many can do it.
the situation on the whole is decidedly odd. and i lack the information to do anything more than wonder at it, since no one involved has seen fit to actually, directly speak of any of it. in the end, there is little left to do but shrug and move on.
so i am.
the other departure is more temporary in nature, though no less pensive. the master sergeant returns to his home after spending this past week with me.
so much i could say, but for the first time in a long time, i’m not so eager to write about it. instead, sitting here smiling, i hold it to me and savor it a time yet… let it steep, percolate, and simmer. when i do write of it, i want to write well of it, and give him the honor i find so richly due.
add to this, i want to write of it without polish. it needs none. the temptation in this moment is to gush, and somehow, it seems wrong to do so. i don’t know if that will make sense.
have you ever experienced something so pure that it seems to speak of it somehow takes from it? that’s the sense i have in this moment.
rather than render anything of it mundane with my eager words, i wait. but i will say this…. in a life where struggle, loss, and hurtful things have been so very common, this past week has been like sanctuary; a nourishment of mind and spirit and body so complete, and so far outside the realm of my experience that i do not feel i can do justice to it in words.
in this precious other i have found an oasis, a safe haven, a welcome and acceptance that i have so long lived without that i had begun to think it was not something i would ever find, let alone be blessed enough to experience.
he is amazing. special. unique in my experience. beautiful in every way. innocent. pure. tender.
i stop here. for now.