Told in Tandem with the Woodsman
When she and I first started this change in our journey, we were in ready agreement. Our nature… no, what we had grown accustomed to being, with others, made us understand our individual limits and needs.
Those limits always included limited exposure between self and others. If it wasn’t conscious, there would be some… spark… that withered and would be extinguished. Rather quickly. I had seen it in my past; I knew exactly what she meant when she described it.
That agreement was to proactively prevent that spark from dying. We both understood that if we faced the maelstrom we were starting together, and then would pull back from each other after a couple of brief days, we would have that chance to rekindle that maelstrom down the road. It wouldn’t be that ember going black, it would just smolder until the time was right again.
We were quick to agree that it would be that way. For both of us. Just a joining of intersecting waves that would cause a bright blip. Then the waves would bounce into their individual pattern again. And, if lucky, would intersect again.
But the blip apart hasn’t happened. At all.
I don’t know how he and I don’t smother each other. When I do the math on the amount of time we are in touch, in some way, it boggles my mind. And it’s still not enough. Maybe in time I will say ‘when’ and it won’t mean I-can-talk-now-please-call-me, but instead it will mean I-have-reached-my-limit-and-need-some-space. Or perhaps his introverted nature will catch up to us and say ‘enough already you crazy kids!’ and demand some time to regroup.
I keep waiting. Expecting it. But it hasn’t come. Not yet. And quite frankly the seemly limitless saturation has concerned me. Surely we have a limit. Surely! But we carry on, burning brighter. Hotter. Steady. Stable. Strong. Continue reading