" Pomegranate ««« 2008 »»» What Dreams May Come "
05.22.08
2:33 p.m. -Counting Crows, "Have You Seen Me Lately?"
You got a piece of me, but it's just a little piece, and I don't need anyone these days. And these days I feel like I'm fading away.
Over the summer, I will continue on my quest to discover who I am in this new space I am just beginning to enter, to discover into which world I am going to be transferred. Hopefully before Summer Institute for the Gifted begins, I will be hired by a legitimate public or private school for a paycheck that allows me to live on my own without undue stress when factored in with my other bills.
It's odd to know I am going to be reclaiming my life while Melanie is gone. She has done nothing but give. (Well, my bank account is a trifle poorer for her, but that is it. She is a college student and therefore has no money, but that was to be expected. I'd rather deal with someone who is impoverished financially than spiritually, intellectually, or emotionally.) I will be reclaiming things that were mine and became "ours" with Emily or that were ours and I want to be mine.
A small example: I liked the Counting Crows well before Emily but find it hard to listen to them now that she burns lighters at every Crows concert she can find within three states. I introduced Emily to the Counting Crows and now she shares her infatuation of them with Tim. They were never my favorite band (a role currently occupied by Damien Rice and Mirah), but I own their CDs and I liked them well enough to have made the entirety of one of their songs the quote for the entry when I met Emily. I shouldn't have to cringe when my upstairs neighbor plays a mix CD of typical college music.
Another: Emily took most of the magickal supplies - including many that were specifically and individually mine, bottles of camphor, powders and herbs from before I met her, candles, and more - from the apartment. This hurt me because I felt it suggested that witchcraft was hers alone, that I did not deserve these tools I'd brought into the relationship. I think it was accidental, her rush to take as much that she thought was hers and go from my home, but it stung at the time. All she left was some sage to help me rid the apartment of her spirit. I've never overtly needed objects for magick, but they were an extension of my religious practice and thus a part of me. They can be replaced, but I wish they didn't have to be.
Even now, most of my wardrobe caters to what Emily would find attractive. I have my own style within that, but not without. I no longer completely know how I would wish to dress and, with time and money, will have to learn this for the first time in my adult life. I was an unkempt college student in too large clothing when I met Emily. If the clothes make the man, I have no idea who I am.
In some ways, the beginning of this reclamation is a simple act of verbal omission. Instead of noting that this field is where Emily and I went star gazing, I just say that I was there. It is implicitly understood, given the time period in which the stargazing, that Emily joined me, but that doesn't need to be stated constantly. It isn't a lie not to say her name. I was there and I need to start acknowledging that. I need to be more present for these recollections. It's fair, it is a nod to the fact that is was my life that I was leading, not simply the life I was putting on hold for someone else.
Despite and because of this all, I wish I could convince Melanie to come to Lake George with me. I have no need to reclaim that as mine alone. It has only ever been something I was eager to share. I want to enjoy something that is so deeply mine with someone I love. My annual vacation to Lake George is something I've been doing since I cared about Saturday morning cartoons, since before I'd thought to kiss anyone. It is a second home that I occupy for one week a year. To walk the boardwalk with Melanie and share ice cream with her would be amazing. To love her in this context that is so special to me. Love her and give her the memories of that as well. The memories between the sheets only last so long, but the memories on our feet can last a life.
It is necessary that I take this solitary opportunity for what it is, a chance to be alone. I will be more fully me than when Melanie left. She will return to a more realized being, someone slightly more worthy of her adoration, someone far more worthy of his own respect.
Soon in Xenology: Dreams and nightmares. Merideth.
last watched: Cloverfield
reading: The Illuminatus! Trilogy
listening: Live At Fingerprints Warts & All
" Pomegranate ««« 2008 »»» What Dreams May Come "
Thomm Quackenbush is an author and teacher in the Hudson Valley. He has published four novels in his Night's Dream series (We Shadows, Danse Macabre, Artificial Gods, and Flies to Wanton Boys). He has sold jewelry in Victorian England, confused children as a mad scientist, filed away more books than anyone has ever read, and tried to inspire the learning disabled and gifted. He is capable of crossing one eye, raising one eyebrow, and once accidentally groped a ghost. When not writing, he can be found biking, hiking the Adirondacks, grazing on snacks at art openings, and keeping a straight face when listening to people tell him they are in touch with 164 species of interstellar beings. He likes when you comment.