There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
It makes you realize a lot about yourself... makes you question even more. I came to a realization about why it's so hard yesterday. And it's really quite a simple realization. It's just so... all encompassing. It's like... Staring off into the ocean on a moonless night. The fear is boundless, it seems so vast and unconquerable. I articulated it to E last night. The hardest thing about being married is that I'll never be able to read his mind. And vice versa. So whatever he tells me. Whatever he chooses to share... that's all I have to go on. It's like being commissioned to build something. I have the materials and he has the blueprint. And... if he only shares pieces of the blueprint and I only use my mediocre materials, we could make a warehouse at best. Maybe a plain simple building. But if we both fully knew what the other had, we could build the Eiffel Tower. Or the Louvre or the Guggenheim.
So if he only shares half the knowledge about his feelings, what he wants or needs or wishes for... Then I only have that half to help build our world on. And before I laid to sleep last night I thought to myself... what an immense amount of trust this takes. Cause - based on his word - I could be doing EVERYTHING wrong. Maybe because he fears disappointing or hurting me with the truthful response. But his holding in his real feelings might send me down the wrong path indefinitely. But, the trust comes in when I have to be sure in the knowledge that he's telling me what I need to know to make my half of this work. Despite my better judgment at times that tells me there's something more.
