something borrowed, something true

...For as long as I can remember, major conflict in my life, I have resolved with motion. Hop a plane, get on a bus...In Europe, I rode the rails from London to Sicily...from France to Hungary...taking in some history and taking myself out of whatever equation had become a riddle.

And in this, I saw truth. Distance makes for clarity, I would know what was situational and what was mine. This, in theory, was true. I am very very aware of my flaws...but the isolation of travel, of starting over and having to always rely on me and only MY judgement-atleast in the intial phases of a transfer-has created this reverse Stockholm syndrome...the crazy gets me through the rough stuff instead of my more solid bits...In the past couple of years,especially, I have begun to sympathize with my captor.

It is the quirky, imbalanced, the "Terminal Uniqueness" that took me to Vegas, and that is where the inmates REALLY started running the asylum.
To me, honesty, has always been key...ESPECIALLY with those in my inner sanctum...but in Vegas, that honesty became fractured. I lied about just about everything in the beginning...From what I studied in college to why I moved to there in the first place. I couldn't reveal my political affiliations.I could cite Machiavelli and John Murphy...no harm, no foul. It would be okay and it was-until I became close to my co-workers.

We were always together, on and off the clock, they became my family. And I struggled. Especially with Brenda, because we were SO close, and she would say to me " Something is missing" in reference to my story...

And that fracturing of truth made it easy for me to fall into bed with a married man...and what I realized, yesterday, when I wasn't sure if the day was going to end in plane tickets or a full tank of gas- that our relationship has kept my ability to be honest-broken into pieces.
Since he and I got involved, I haven't been completely honest with anyone. We lied to our co-workers, I lied to my friends...even to the people who knew, I downplayed it. It was taboo, it made people around me uncomfortable...so I just highlighted different elements, walked the crooked lines in my fractured truth...but the fact I was leaving town kept me in the game because when I jump, I jump in and ride it out until the end.

But it hasn't ended. In fact, yesterday, it was clear that we are closer now. The distance has made us friends...though the crazy passion is still there. But what the hell is my motivation now? He is hardly low hanging fruit anymore.What am I maintaining?

And when I sit and trying to put my finger on an actual legitimate feeling for him-I can't come up with one. I mean, we laugh together and have a very open sexual relationship...but I never went into this wanting to be with him. I still don't. Lately, he has been talking about how he doesn't want anything to change between us-which, I don't even know why he would say that? I don't know if he fears that as time passes I will become more attached or if the fears belong to him.He talked about us burning for eternity in hell together. Which is probably the longest committent a man has ever given me-hahaha...I mean I've had men want to marry me, spend a lifetime-but an ETERNITY? It is too ridiculous to even consider.

But again, why am I in this? Boredom? Quite possibly. Though I woke up the other morning, in the sunset, in a familiar though not entirely comfortable bed...(the sun was as bright as I had ever seen it, and the fact that it made-what by all accounts-was a rare appearance-after a white night-was proof enough that god hates me.)

And that bed, or more accurately- the dynamics of the two people that passed the night in it, made me further evaluate what the hell I am doing. When I started to feel comfort or closeness, I wanted to take things to the dirty place. I couldn't just BE. Part of it is biology but the other part? Fear, maybe? Burning the thoughts of a possibility of a bridge? Just burning, senselessly?
But I like that place...buzzing around the city, laughing, listening to music...not taking ANYTHING too seriously...friendship. Can it be that simple or will I fuck it up?

So, I guess my point, is, ultimately, you can travel, live, learn...CULTIVATE...but if you don't stick around long enough to safely close doors, those doors, those lights left on in the dark and far reaching corners of your life, will come and cast long shadows on the now.

And it smarts a little.