Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The Semester of Danger

So the question now becomes how to dig myself out of this hole, especially because I was always content to let L hold all the shovels. Or, at least, my favorite shovels.

My memories shift to late nights in the volvo, driving up Connecticut Route 9 at more than 90mph listening to Califone and embracing this strange retreat. About two years ago, I broke up with L, citing a need for space. I didn't immediately transfer my affections to a surrogate, as she seems to have, but over time it became clear to me that these little retreats of mine were serving the same function. I was living with a wonderful group of people, my comrades in arms at the academy, and they helped me regain my center. We called it the semester of danger. I started doing wild things and free things: the four of us learned to throw knives using the bulletin board on our kitchen wall; My four trips to New Orleans as a demolition crew leader all happened within the time when I was apart from L. My penchant for 2am high speed drives on empty roads developed around that time.

Sometimes, in my personal narrative, I label it a self destructive instinct, what set in in her absence. And it certainly did overwhelm me and eventually had me come back to her, head in hand, and ask for her forgiveness. But I became who I wanted to be in that time as well. I wrote some of my most ambitious theory papers in that period of time. I taught myself to work on engines, and to play blues guitar. I became a respected head of a radio station and a well-liked leader of a work crew. See, I was in academy, and couldn't run to be with her. And now she is in academy. And our relationship always had a flavor of waiting. And when I was no longer waiting, some switch went off in my brain and made me free to become who I wanted to be... Not that she ever kept me from it, but I did, eagerly awaiting her companionship.

I still wish that we were together. And without a doubt I would move to where she is. But maybe it's time to flip that switch again, and go do some damn crazy self-defining things. I only pray to God that she'll come back one day to this liberated me.

3 comments:

gyra said...

there's the difficult survivor i know. been waiting for this part of you to break through.
love

De.Corday said...

I still can't believe she's throwing herself into someone else's arms though. thats the part that really kills. and the above is barely an answer to that.

Anonymous said...

Not an answer, nor a solution really. But it's all true, and of the many responses you could have, this is the most positive/reckless, or a little something I like to call, reclative.