Soul Mate, 48
Insanity I know well. I’m feeling it by the bushel now, as I negotiate a nascent relationship. I’d asked the Universe for love, for partnership and now, I’ve received it. I’d indicated to the Universe my preference for a woman of color, but she came in another, brighter package. There were several “asks” that I made of the Universe that the Universe decided were not relevant. This time around. There may be others, there may not.
Relationship is challenging and fearsome and terrifying and painful. Being yourself, allowing your darkest fears to leak out, your weakest, tenderest flesh to be exposed to sometimes rough, insensitive, clueless handling is the risk you take to create intimacy. And sometimes I wonder if its worth it.
Should I be marrying my writing, marrying my talent? When have I ever? I’ve always given short shrift to the stories, to the energy, to the flow, to the volcanic desire to burst forth and commit to that eruption – one day at a time. Does relationship with another enhance or interrupt my ability to be in holy matrimony with my creativity? Time will tell.
I’d made an amendment to my request of the Universe that put a color bar on who showed up…and I’m glad that I did. I’ve met a woman who, while white, is deep, strong, brilliant, creative, expressive, in short all of the things that I said I wanted. And there are hurdles. I was reading an article about Juliette Greco, a French singer who’d had a longterm relationship with Miles Davis. Miles was asked by the philospher Jean Paul Sartre, why he didn’t marry Greco. “Because I love her too much to hurt her.” I don’t know that I want to hurt “her” as well as hurt myself.
“Its hard for two people just to love each other.”
And it is. Its hard because everyone has a sayso, feels they have an interest in who fucks who across the color line. The barbed wire is as thick on the black side as it is on the white, and the flesh hanging from the razor wire is testimony to the belief that to transgress this righteous bias means death or dismemberment. Spiritual, emotional if not physical.
I’ve felt my insanity today and it isn’t mine, its this fucked up worlds; its the loveless, hateful, hierarchical, naive, vicious, irresponsible, logical, murderous, terrified world that I have to try to live in. To feel insane is only to channel what I see around me and signal my nausea at it, my desire to rise above it, move away from it, vomit it up and purge my system of it.
I don’t want to outsource my love to another until I figure out how to make room for me, my self love. Or maybe that’s what I have to do in order to locate my self love, in someone else’s mirror. Either way, I have to find it somewhere, anywhere or I’ll die.