Sunday, April 5, 2009

Endurance

When you're tea-drunk it's very easy to almost post a personal blog to your class blog.  Strongly advise against blogging while tea-drunk.

And I've been thinking about the inevitability of things...

That it's sure to happen someday - soon or a little later - that I'll forget you and you'll forget me and that'll be functional.  Because it's already happening in small degrees - different structures - opposite paths - flying two different kites and even sharing the same gust of wind isn't enough.

So quickly people pass in and out of each other's lives, and most often times they lie to themselves about being around forever - about never leaving - swearing that distance can't possibly be a factor.  It's wrong - they're wrong.  Distance will always wedge - time zones, hours, days... even non-physical distances - you're five feet away but in your mind you're miles away from any point we could meet.  And as we get older, the effort becomes too much - always busy trying to build a life, trying to play house, HURRY HURRY I HAVE TO GROW UP AND FILL THE GAP.

That dreaded gap.  Emptiness.  Chasm.  It hurts, doesn't it?  That's why there are two parts to every event - one foot in the door just in case - and if it doesn't work out, you never fully committed anyway.  It makes it easier, it lifts the guilt - at least until you hit the pillow at night and fail to fall asleep for hours, claiming a sort of natural insomnia brought on by forces supposedly external to your control.  We fool ourselves in this way.  It was the tea, the red bull, the ex, the job - never our own mind - never... our own fault.

I've been thinking so much lately about theoretical spaces, that I haven't been paying attention to the actual ones - the space in between two people.  The divide.  The inevitable divide.

You can easily be forced into a corner.  You can easily sink down, pull your knees to your chest and regard the rest of the room, determining that for now there's no possible way to go sprinting out without being noticed.  But they can't stay here forever - they'll leave and then it'll be easy to bid the same four walls goodbye.  

It's only a matter of time before you turn in.  Question is - will I take his hand and allow him to help me up from the corner, or will I wait until you're all gone and slowly, inevitably, make my exit.