I have decided I really don’t like holidays. I haven’t liked weekends for a long time. They disrupt my routine. Everyone pairs off on the weekends. They do that on holidays too. I don’t have a problem with people pairing off, I just decided not to do that a while ago.
Pairing is fine. It is un-pairing that is hard. With all the solvents they have invented, there do not seem to be any that are really effective on pairs. Of people that is. I can separate frozen bread, or beads on a wire. I can pry two pieces of wood apart and even separate the wheat from the chaff, but feelings are just too ephemeral.
Trying to separate feeling is like dissecting the wind, or decanting drinking water. Who knows what the real thing looks like? Who knows what the real thing feels like?
It’s a conundrum that goes beyond paradox. All the definitions in the world cannot describe the “indescribable pain” of separation. It changes person to person, breath to breath, minute to minute. It goes into hibernation and suddenly resurrects itself at the most inopportune moments. It is erratic, it is something that comes from two sides of one thing that has already divided itself into two things before one of them knows it.
Oh, it is easy enough if one side knocks the other up along one side of the head, but that hardly ever happens. It’s more like tearing home made paper apart. There are all these little frayed ends and random little strands that still have pieces of both parts on them. We stay friends. How can we not, but it’s kind of like brushing up against a cactus naked on purpose.
Whittle away all those little pointy feelings and I become too dull to work. Leave them alone and it hurts!
Where did all this come from?
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