Love or Bust...usually bust.

I went out with a friend and former lover last night.  We had a lovely dinner, went to the symphony...and talked...and talked...and talked.  Until 3 in the morning.  It was delightful, soul filling, aggravating and raw.  I love that kind of thing.  I love rawness and openness and honesty in relationships.  I love those kinds of friends or lovers who see into your soul and not just like what they see there, but crave it.  One doesn't come upon them very often, so when they do come along, I have a tendency to grasp them and hang on.

But, it isn't just that they crave what is within you, because that isn't enough.  You have to crave them in the same way.  There are things about them that hurt you, anger you, make you grit your teeth with frustration.  Because that's what these people do, they arouse great passions in you, and you in them. But, the good parts?  Oh, they are so good, they are so worth it.  Because they do arouse great passion.  They hurt you, but they are the balm to your soul.  They anger you, but fill you with such joy, they make you grit your teeth in frustration, but provide such satisfaction.

Relationships like this are often rocky, seemingly unstable, but once firmly established, the rockiness provides texture and the instability goes away.  Because you know no matter how angry they make you, no matter how they may hurt you (usually inadvertently), you know they love you and you them. You know that your souls belong together and that they will forgive you and you will forgive them and they will love you.

When you have a friend or lover like this, someone who sees into your soul, someone you allow into your inner keep, they have a great capacity to wound and hurt, because by inviting them in, you have handed them a knife, removed your armour, showed them your most vulnerable spots and trusted them to not stab or cut you.  But sometimes, they do cut you, though not often on purpose.

I love him because he challenges me. I love him because he makes me rethink what I have thought.  I love him because he loves humanity.  I love him because he is raw and honest and broken, but he continues to love. I love him because he makes me more me, by virtue of being him.

I love him because he is my friend.

WHAT IN THE HELL

Death threats and feminism

I have nothing really to add to this post except that I am utterly and completely flabbergasted.  It came up in a group I'm on on Facebook and one member said that Ms. Sarkeesian should consider changing her message if she's getting death threats.

How...what...I HAVE NO WORDS.

Is this the world we want?  Where feminists have to cancel speeches because some asshole feels unmanned by her?  Guess what, buddy, if all it takes to unman you is a feminist talking, you aren't a man, sorry.  You're a worm.

I'm disgusted.

What a beautiful day today was.  It's the first weekend I haven't had to work in a very long time, it's fall, which is my favourite season and it's General Conference weekend for the LDS Church, which is lovely and edifying (and means no local meetings).

I am the sort of person who can never be satisfied with things the way they are, so, as it was my first free weekend for some time, what do you suppose I did?  Rearranged my apartment, of course! Generally, I do this every six months or so, but I've only lived in this place for not quite three.  The issue is, when I move into a new place, I set things up in a way I think might work, but after living in it for a bit, I realize that certain bits don't.

The biggest issue this time was space for the Small Daughter.  Originally, I had used a hallway that leads to my housemate's part of the house (and is consequently closed off) as her play area.  The problem with this is that only one person can fit in to play and she has friends.  Because of the small size of the front room, there wasn't really any floor for them to spill out on, plus, goodness are they noisy!

This apartment, though lovely, is small and has only one bedroom, which is sizeable.  So, since I currently spend most of my time in the front room rather than the bedroom, I decided to dedicate a corner of it to her play area.  It's quite nice.  And, it leaves the hallway area for bookshelves, which looks rather better than a vomit of toys.


When I woke this morning, amidst the mess I had made starting this project yesterday, I was feeling quite down.  This is primarily because the Small Daughter was at her dad's and I miss her when she is gone.  This is not to say that I discourage her from spending time with her dad, on the contrary, I encourage it, she needs it.  But, I am lonely when she isn't here.  She is a charming companion, even at only 7 years.  She is witty and clever, logical, smart and funny.  She is not too old nor too big for cuddles and she likes to help me cook and she reads to me and tells me amusing stories.  She has her faults, as do we all, but they are far outweighed by her good qualities.

As much as I love my darling girl, I also miss adult companionship.  I have good friends at work, but that is work and there is minimal time for talking.  I like talking, sharing, discovering with others.  I like to learn about things that interest them, I like to debate and learn from them.  I like to share what I have and have them share what they have.  I like the intimacy of time and care spent with and on others.  Well, certain others.  Intimacy is only achievable, I think with members of one's own tribe, whether they are born part of one's tribe or choose to join it, they must be "of the race that knows Joseph", to quote L.M. Montgomery.  I'm not sure my tribe is very large, I've found some people who are part of it, but mostly they aren't.  And the people who are part of it lead their own busy lives.

Wouldn't it be nice to find a member of your tribe who belonged to you?  I think that's what really successful marriages are.  I'd like that.