thought

I need to sleep.
January 02, 2005

I remember this fellow I met in college. His name was Dee and he was this tall, tone, nubian god. The first and only time I ever talked to him was at a party at his house. We ended up in his room, in the dark. I teetered on the edge of his dresser. He laid on his bed. We talked all night. Nothing close to sexual happened. It was just nice to talk to someone who felt as out of place as I did. I even ended up crying at some point, though I'm sure I waved away any proffered physical comfort. When the sun came up, I started to get extremely self-conscious, so I suddenly ran out without really saying goodbye. I saw him all over the place that year at school, but I completely ignored him. He had seen too much of me too soon and I couldn't bear it. I was so self-absorbed and confused. As if feeling bad gave me an excuse to be an asshole. It didn't.

I've since realized that when I travel, I can find exactly that kind of intense connection and never have to deal with any consequences. It isn't that I can't commit. I was with my last boyfriend for four years. It's more like I move too fast sometimes. I get ahead of myself. Or at least I have in the past. Being gone allows me to move as fast as I can (which is REALLY REALLY fast) without ever having to worry about longevity.

On the one hand, I know that these misadventures I have probably lack the kind of deep satisfaction that comes from a slow-growing relationship. On the other hand, trees grow slow. Rock formations grow slow. Humans happen in a flash. It's, utlimately, all over anyway. And occasionally I feel like the fleeting connections I have with people are most true to the way things actually are.