Friday, August 12, 2011

I'm too intense and it scares people. Probably moreso because of that expressionless aspie veneer, so seemingly dispassionate. To find such a boiling, writhing, often contradictory and explosive stew of emotion on what had seemed such a calm, safe place, is enough to cause people to flee screaming into the distance. It's too unexpected, too much to deal with.

I saw it today, in the eyes of a woman I've admired for some time...that look. Like yours. That quick flash of panic light in the eyes. I hadn't said anything to her today, but women are savvier than men, and she knows, has known, that I like her. She has a partner and I am content to let her alone, having wounds that still bleed me dry (though never dry enough, it seems).

I scare people and that hurts. I scare people despite having no ill will at all towards them. I look backwards in time and see...that it's always been this way, since I can remember anyhow...and years of subsequent pain have only deepened and expanded my intensity, so as to make human relations ever more hopeless.

What I have to accept is that I'm not going to able to express myself with people. Not in speech, not in touch, nor in love or in bed. I have to find other outlets: art...writing. Not in the context of a relationship with a person, because I either scare them away, or I find myself aching for the same kind of intensity.

Pain, trauma, does things to the human psyche. It's as though every wound, every gash, opens up more surface area to ache, to feel, to appreciate, to savor. And in this way, it can be a tremendous gift. How could I experience the kind of ecstasy I do at the simplest things, if I were able to take them for granted, if I had never been deprived of them? Surely the sky is bluer and the grass greener for a prisoner in solitary confinement than it's ever been for you and I, who see it every day.

You see, you are still my muse even though we haven't spoken for months.....I cannot think without speaking to you in my mind....could I breathe if my every breath didn't sigh or whisper your name? I don't know. I don't know.

No comments:

Post a Comment