Tuesday, October 19

Moody

Sometimes, I don't want to share everything. This is an anomoly with me. A lot of times, I want to spill the metaphorical beans to everyone I see. It's become an obsession, because it seems like the more that I tell people, the more they help me see that I'm not alone in feeling that particular way.

Now, with the absence of my drug, my fiance, things seem a little more pale. A little less real. When he's around, things seem to take on new meaning, I see things through two sets of eyes. When he's gone, especially when he's newly-abscent, things seem to dull. I'm not sure if it's healthy, and I don't really give two shits. Thing is, I want him with me, forever, because he makes me more alive.

I feel weaker when he's gone. Especially when he's newly-gone. The world doesn't have the same appeal when he's not right here to share it with me. When I'm not seeing things through two sets of eyes, it pales a lot. Does anyone know what I'm talking about? Has anyone ever felt this? I sure hope so. I hope everyone knows what it's like to be totally, completely in love.

We met through very unconventional methods. Online, even. Through online means which are even more dismal than a chatroom setting. We met on a matchmaker website. The one redeeming factor is that we didn't go there in hopes of finding someone. We weren't hunched over keyboards thinking, in Eegore voices, "This is where I shall find my spouse."

For some reason, the Gods smiled upon us. They lent us their ears, and heard our unspoken prayers. "Let me find someone worth talking to," we said. They abided. They cast their good fortunes upon us, and gave us more than we'd dreamt of having. They gave us each other.

We are flawed, and we are hopeless. The only way to be, I have to say. Only hang out with people who know they're ridiculous and flawed, for they're the true path to enlightenment and fucking hillarity will ensue. Amen. At least we're aware of our failures. And we laugh at them, every single day (we laugh at other people, too, but we don't talk about that. We hate hurting other peoples' feelings).

Our lives have been destined for each other. Each of us going through trials that force us to realize that a) we are not perfect, b) perfection is to be mocked, and c) head is a great thing to learn how to give. We were made for each other, and we struggle with the idea that not everyone will find someone as perfect for them as we are for each other, every single day.

I'm sorry for getting all sappy with you, and I forget the true outstanding reason for this post, but there is one thing I have to be thankful for. Pops has unwittingly made me start capitolizing, and I think you should all give high praise. I was online for 3 years without realizing the importance, and he led the way for me. Not because he's cute, obviously (as he's probably not, given his general crabbiness and fatherliness), but because he forced me to realize that intelligent people try to read my incoherence every day. I choose to bend to fit the curve, and give them what they want to read.

7 comments:

Pops said...

Wow, thanks Sunny. That was some real nice stuff. Except that part where you implied I was hideously ugly. Yeah, I didn't care for that.

And let me underline for anyone else reading this the importance of the word "unwittingly". I have no fuckin' clue what I did, but dammit it worked.

Sunny said...

Well, first let me give you an example of before Pops. Notice that it's still good shit, just without the capitolization.

First thing you did was look at other peoples' blogs. The second thing you did (to indirectly influence me) was to comment on a blog that I read. Amy's blog. The third thing you did was capitolize your own shit(when I read your blog and commented there). The fourth thing you did was comment on *my* blog (thus making me feel like a cretin for not being as verbally sophistocated as you). Hence, you made me start capitolizing.

I know that the transition took a while, but seriously, I haven't been doing it for 3 years. Ouch.

PS: Sorry to imply that you were ugly. I just tell myself that so that I don't develop an unseemly crush on you.

Pops said...

It's OK to imply because I am actually horrifically unattractive. It's the third eye that drives people away. The fact that it's in my neck where my adam's apple is supposed to be is just icing on the cake.

shara said...

And here I thought everyone online was either a supermodel or sex god - that's what everyone in the chat rooms always claimed to be...the men were always at least 6 feet tall and a foot long, the women had long blonde hair and were typing wearing only a thong, everyone was oh so pretty then. Oh, the memories.

Sunny said...

Oh, Amanda, that's great. It's so great to know that someone (besides B and myself) has known those feelings, also that it doesn't go away. It's bittersweet, I think. To know that you're away, and it hurts, but also to know that you've found someone you're capable of being that in love with. I hope it doesn't stop, not ever. I do, however hope that it isn't 712 miles of aching for very much longer.

I very much want to meet you too, Amanda. As you know, I've read your blog, and I think you're pretty great, too. As for the thank you, I have to say it's unnecessary. You're thanking me for the one thing in my life that's ever been completely effortless.

Sunny said...

Oh, and Pops, that's one scary picture you paint.

Even if the most horrible part of it is wondering where exactly I'd have to look - I've got enough problems figuring out which eye is the good one in some of our customers.

Byagi said...

I considered sending Sunny a picture of David Hasselhoff with my face on it, but I figured she would realize it was fake when she saw the beer gut and back hair in person for the first time, so I opted to be honest.

Pops - deformities are great! Now I REALLY want to see you.