In other news, my sister is the best sister in the world. And my nefew is the coolest kid evar.
But this is the way it works, is it not? We have a personal space, and we choose carefully whom we let inside. And when people come into this space, it can be frightening. Sometimes the shock of it brings the voice of a child out of you, revealing secrets and making you blush with shame. We crave the light and warmth of intimacy, but intimacy is also very dangerous and frightening. We sense that too much of it will destroy a protective layer we keep around our hearts, a magnetic field that surrounds us and gives us at least the illusion of safety. To bask in the warmth of intimacy without being hurt by it is our goal.
# #<blockquote>But in the end, to live a perfect life is to stop being human. The ironic beauty of humanity is its almost masochistic drive to be connected to itself in ways deeper than a casual drink, a political conversation, a hilarious joke. It’s desire to be one with itself, the storm cloud desperately wanting to spin down a huge tornado, chaos be damned.</blockquote> #
This is turning into a longish post isn’t it.
But I knew that unless I explored intimacy and shared intimacy with someone else then life would never progress beyond a certain point. I remember thinking that unless I knew what was going on inside of someone else's head other than my own I was going to explode.