Today, I'm not sure if the tryptophan has finally assaulted my nerve endings, or if I just stayed up watching too many episodes of House last night, but I was tired and cranky. I'd thought for sure I was going to brave the crowds and go shop shop shop today, but I reviewed the sales flyers yesterday, and for real, there was NOTHING impressive enough to go out for. Perhaps I'm too simple. I'm not out to get a flat screen HD tv because I'm happy with what I have. I don't need an IPod, it just doesn't make my world rattle and roll. I don't need anymore Christmas decorations, I could decorate most of our neighborhood should I feel the inclination to. And the toys? Well, I haven't decided on a solid plan of action on what to get my daughter. So I shoved all the sales flyers in a box after I'd finished, kicked it to the end of the couch, and settled in to watch another episode of House.
I find that I don't want much in the way of material goods right now. I want order to the chaos that is my house. I want my daughter to slim down some and be healthy. I want the same for myself...not so much that I'm a size 6 mind you, only that I shed the weight I've gained since being unemployed. I want to reconnect with my highschool friend, who has chosen his alias to be "Balor". I know, what the hell kind of name is that, but he's never been one for the ordinary, and if you do a search on yahoo or google, will find the myth behind the monster. I almost wonder, based on a comment he left me the other day, if he's feeling more affinity with this evil eyed beast than I'd first given weight to. I want more time together with Malcolm for everything, not just the bedroom part. I want a fulfilling job, and I want to be able to pay my bills again. The only material things I want are turtlenecks and boots for my daughter, so she won't be cold in the quickly approaching freezing weather. And maybe some pants that aren't capri for her too, that's kind of important. But I need nothing for myself, and shopping isn't very appealing right now, it almost gives me a vague sense of unease and dissatisfaction. It's not what my psyche is craving.
I'm really craving that human connection, and in a very very big way. AND there are 3 men that my psyche is calling out to to fulfill it. Malcolm, because he completes me like that, body, mind, and soul. His words and touch go right to the core of me and light the fire that right now is tightly banked. Mr is number two, and I hear a chorus of moans right now. LOLOL. But thru our continued conversations, reciprocated on both our parts now, I just love the bantering, joking, and eye rolling mischief that we both have a penchant for. Bear pokers to the end.
Lastly, and perhaps most distracting, is my need to reconnect with Balor. LOL, yes my one eyed monster friend. Who is he? MMMM, it's a story, for sure. Picture me in highschool, if you will. I'm the fat chick, no sense of style, from an ultraconservative French Catholic family, attending a co-ed Catholic Highschool. I never dated, went to only one school dance by myself because it was a costume party, never did anything considered "bad", and was a straight A overachiever that sang in church, in a professional traveling choir, played piano, and was headed for an art education. He'd always been in the class ahead of me, and I'd glimpsed him because I'd had some advanced classes and I had gotten to know that class. He disappeared for a year, I'd never really given him much thought, and he reappeared after a year abroad and was magically a part of MY class now. He was THE most beautiful guy I'd ever seen. Long glossy black hair, perpetually tanned skin, sloe eyes, great laugh and smile....It was like watching a wild animal pacing in a cage sometimes. He had a bad boy rep too. Indulged in some hookah, played some hackey, drove in a van with CURTAINS for heaven's sake. And he listened to the Grateful Dead.
I don't even recall how we started talking. Perhaps it was because I'd done a summer study at an art college, and had grown some balls and gotten sassy. I had an absurd need to try and fit in because I was never really a part of any group in Highschool. I got along with most everybody, but was never on the inside of anything. I had a skewed sense of reality too, and was a chameleon at times, altering my personality to try and fit in with any group. Just really trying to find myself. Balor HATED that in me, and I remember some heated conversations later about it. I understand his vehemence now, because I see it happening in my own daughter as she struggles to find her way socially too, and it absolutely makes my skin crawl. But you can't tell kids to just be themselves, they have to figure out who the hell that is, true? And Balor, I was an extremely late bloomer.
So we became friends, and DURING Highschool, it was still such a tremulous delicate thing. We worked on a project together, he kept me out far too late, and my mother had conniptions. However, college happened, and I started to become this new flower of a woman. Forward to summer vacation, and somehow Balor and I reconnected, and became inseparable. We went all over the state, we painted together, we chatted at Denny's till 5 in the morning. My mom was hysterical because she was sure I was doing the deed. But he charmed her, like no other of my friends ever has or probably ever will. He'd come to talk to her, and she, being so short, and he being so tall.....well, he'd kneel in front of her so she wouldn't have to look up. I'm certain his parents were ever so much less impressed with me, but I really never got a chance to know that. Nor would I want to, at this point. LOL LALALALA, Nope, Balor, you can't tell me, I'm not listening!!!! Those were the days I'd be fascinated by simply listening to his logic. Or was it rhetoric? Or his philosophy?? Christ, I think back now, and I'm sure I'd have understood him better had I been drunk or stoned. Surely my almost virgin mind couldn't comprehend the layers he was thinking and speaking about. I tried, God KNOWS I tried. But it was like listening to the Grateful Dead for me back then. It all sounded the SAME. I couldn't distinguish the myriad intricate melodies, the special patterns and flow in the music. I just didn't have the experience in my life yet to grasp anything that was really Balor. But I have to be truthful and honest, and this will make me blush as much today as it did back then. Christ I loved him.
There is so much more to this story. Some of it hasn't happened yet because this friendship has been in stasis for some 15 years now. I've tried to look him up on some reunion sites like Classmates.com in the past. I knew that he'd married, had a gaggle of kids, and was clean, sober, and happy. It made me so happy to know that too. I've grown a bunch since I last saw him. LOL Both emotionally, and experientially. Spiritually, and sexually. But the most important piece is I've discovered is the woman within, and I'm not that chameleon anymore. Take me or leave me, love me or hate me, this is me. I think back to those two kids we were, and I chuckle at myself a LOT, and at him too. I was a starry eyed crushing maniac, and he was just plain full of shit because he knew I was that starry eyed crushing idiot. LOL. I understand more now, maybe not everything, but so much more. I hear the melodies of the Grateful Dead, and know the signature of each tune, what makes each special, beloved, and unique. And they appeal to me on a very cellular level. But it's not my personal rhythm like it is his, even to this day. Mine is Pink Floyd, and I'm proud of my tune, of my lyrics, of my symphonic layers. Am I still crushing on him? Well, I probably always will a little, but I'm so damn happy in my love life that I can easily, these days, distinguish the love for a cherished friend from the love for a primal mate. And that is what makes Balor so special to me is that he is cherished. Our conversations, brief and superficial (to some extent) as they've been over Facebook.com, have, at least for me, the feeling like we've picked up where we left off 15 years ago, and that there was only a pause in our friendship, not a gaping maw. It's that wonderful, and I crave seeing him again so that I can have the laughter, the warm conversation, the hilarity, the serious thoughts, and then the even better disagreements. Bear poker I am. LOL. I don't know if he'll read this, I do know he wants to. He's also threatened to kill me with his evil eye should I write heinous things about him. LOLOL. It's all good hon. Ask Mr. I only thrash someone in verbage when they need it. MWAHAHAHA!
We've agreed, Balor & I, that a round of great coffee should come to fruition rather quickly. I know he's hitting a difficult time in his life, and he has my thoughts and support. I was there this year, though the situation is different. So perhaps we can offer each other some mutual support and healing from relationships that just didn't cross the finish line like we'd hoped. I think we're both ok, really really, but it's still nice to be able to commiserate and compare horror stories. Now I just need to explain all this to Malcolm, and hope to God he's ok with it. Funny enough I even asked Mr's opinion on how to approach this WITH Malcolm...should I ask him permission, or tell him after the fact, be casual about it...what to do? I know Mr would absolutely thrash me if he knew I'd started thinking about him like one of my girlfriends, but there it is, and in print. It's nice to know I can bounce ideas off him like that and get some feedback. Of course he always assumed I was cheating, and if it were him and I'd told him this long winded story, he'd assume it would be because I wanted some action with Balor. LOL, he even called me a couple of days later to ask me if I'd had my "date" yet, and I quickly let him know that it was NOT a "date"....it was a reunion. LOL. I need to have a conversation with Malcolm about it. I know he'd be ok, I know he knows I only want to come home to him. It would be so much easier if Balor were only a girl...or gay. But no. He's a beautiful vibrant hetero man, and he's my friend. And I'm glad we are talking again.
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