changes...

"it's getting to the point, where I'm no fun anymore"

"something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it"

Two lines from two songs that stick in my mind. The former by Stephen Stills, the latter by Carole King.

I always wonder what happens to people in relationships. Why we change. The slow steady erosion that seems so inconsequential along the way. I suppose it's the reason for so many songs, so much art, so much trauma. Some people have the ability to move past, to let things go. Others move on differently. The pain lingers.

What I find interesting is, my emotions are like dominos. One negative emotion sets my others off. It works the same for positive emotions. Managing, or even manipulating, them are impossible. I need a catalyst. Something great has to happen for me to become emotionally invincible (at least for a period of time).

No telling where things take us

But I do know I have felt as though my life has been a river. Raging in spots, meandering in others. At times, the path of least resistance seems preferred, other times slowly eroding the obstacles in my way. I'm afraid sometimes. Should I be making decisions that I know will end badly, only to get the decision made? Should I wait til all the necessary tumblers fall into place. I think we all have been here. Some people seem to not have these issues. I just remind myself that if I feel a certain way, it's guaranteed others have too.

Catch and release...

Or, the art of flirting. I've never had the ability. I suppose from time to time I manage, but I'm more of a bumbling oaf in the flirting department. I have witnessed the skilled fishermen at work. It's about casting the line, playing ever so subtly with the catch, reeling them in... only to release them into the wild. They're artists.

I, on the other hand, am more like Neanderthal man, I find a stick, a worm (or anything that'll work well enough, cast and cast and cast. Eventually, I will catch something. It's then up to me to be extra careful so as not to lose it, not to let it break free. Once in my grasp, I try to reach for it out of hunger. Every once in a while I eat.

There's a lesson here, I'm sure.

Rejection, Hope and anything else

I'm never sure "who" I'll be when I go out. I find it hardest to be myself (whoever that is) when I'm around people who have an expectation of what or who I am. To each group of people I know, I am someone different. Add to this the variables of the energy in the room, how much alcohol I consume and whether or not I start the evening off right.

Rejection is an interesting feeling, or is it an action, maybe it's both. Whatever it is, it can cast a pall over my emotional state. I have been rejected and done some rejection. Neither feels particularly great. Learning to move on from rejection is a skill I have yet to learn. It happens in some aspects of my life, in others, not so much. It colours my thoughts, it makes me upset and hurt and confused. Hmm, sounds a lot like falling in love, er, I mean lust, or maybe both. And yet, in the face of this rejection, I find hope. Maybe I have great coping skills or a bad memory.