It’s not that …

It’s not that I don’t care about you. I just can’t feel it lately. I don’t know what to make of it. I’m just oddly detached. Which is both a relief and is scary. A relief because, well, I’m accustomed to focussing a lot of my attention on the health of my connections with people. I’ve tended to them like my life depended on it. And as rewarding as the outcome has been, the work has been exhausting. But it’s scary to stand here alone and see you way over there and feel unmoved because what if some day I suddenly snap out of this and really regret that I’ve let these connections deteriorate. Yes, when you get down to it, I’m scared of dying alone. Not dying itself. I have a feeling that I’ll be ready for that. I just want to feel your hand holding mine when it happens and I want you to tell somebody, “I was there when….”

… [thinking] …

From a spiritual perspective, this sense of detachment could be a good thing except that I’m not particularly focussed either. In fact, I’m in a bit of a haze. I’ve not been looking for richness in the moment. I have been waiting for it to catch me by surprise, as if on a dare. I’m in so much of a haze that I’m forgetting things. Today, as I was typing at my computer, I looked down and noticed the little bag of vitamins allocated for today. Then maybe 2 minutes later, I looked down at them again and there were three less, but I could only remember swallowing one. How to be in the world and not of the world?

This is the end of this entry and this is the point in the entry when I feel compelled to make a nice, tight, psychoanalytic summarization in which I deftly reveal the cause of my misalignment. And I already know what I would say. But I’m sick having things tied up in a bow. It gives too much of a sense of relief. (As in, “we can all relax now because we understand why this has come to be, right?”) It leaves me feeling cheated. So, it’ll be my little secret instead. I’d rather you hang out with me in the unknown than in the known. Can you do that?

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