Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Unscheduled...

It's a quarter to four in the morning; I have awakened, as I seem to these days, well before dawn and unable to return to the sleep I so covet. It's long past late-at-night yet still before early morning; and the sky outside my aerie is pitch-black and clear, giving the lights from the buildings and bridges an acute sharpness as they wash my room with a faint glow that seems brighter in the silent dark.

It is hushed and quiet, outside; occasionally punctuated with the rumble and screech of a passing tram; sounds that are akin to those of the cable cars as they traverse the hills of San Francisco.

I rise from the bed, knowing sleep is done for the night, and slide open the door to the balcony; stepping out. In the distance, a lone traveler is driving the freeway that crosses the Yarra; and I can see the lights of the traffic on the distant bridge - mostly trucks, at this time of night. Their sound evokes that of a distant surf.

A brisk and restless wind buffets the building and, like a splash of cold water, gives me that final, bracing shock that puts me in today.

Rain is coming.

If life were as I'd like it; I'd be in bed, still, pulling closer to the warmth of S; wrapping my arms around him as he sleeps and breathing him in, deeply, my nose against his neck. This is more rejuvenating than any sleep shall ever be; and I so miss him.

-------------------

One day, last week, as I was walking along one of the High Streets, it occurred to me that I sometimes "forget" I am in Australia. I smiled to myself, thinking how good that is; that some of the jarring strangeness has softened and my comfort level has risen to this extent.

I began to muse on how well I was handling this, emotionally; noticing that I wasn't living in the pain of this separation and seem to have dealt with it - managed it in some way that it wasn't keeping me at the affect of the desolation and heartache I experienced for so many weeks, upon arrival here...and departure from there.

As I explored my interior, I became a little self-satisfied. Proud of myself for being so adult, for handling those powerful and profound emotions and keeping them at bay so that I can go about my work and my life, here, with some clarity and good humor. Smell me...!

Then, in my mind, I turned a corner and saw the door to the room in which this fundamental part of me resides, for now. Good, solid wood door and a hefty lock; secure. I thought I'd peek inside to see how these feelings were doing...

Unlocking the door, full of confidence, I eased that door open, just a fraction...just a tiny bit...

The winds howled and blew, and through the crack I experienced a massive, living black hole of anguish. Velvet tendrils of raw emotion reached out to me from the darkness, compelling... The energy was pulling me toward that crack in the doorway, the cacophonous wailing of Greek women filled the air as the wind tugged at me with gale force.

Shocked, I realized that my face was wet...as a fountain of tears met the daylight.

All this, in a microsecond of introspection...

I slammed the door, shut!

...a solid case for Temporary Compartmentalization, were there ever one.