I miss the ease of it all, I guess. The ease with which a lyric means the same thing to two people, the ease with which a single word can bring upon a giggle or laugh, the way you know exactly what words to say, what to do, how to appease and please. The simple clock work like routine of it. You stop having to impress because once you have opened you heart and mind to someone, they are either impressed by the beauty and the messy chaos or they aren’t. There is no precarious balance that is to be maintained. Tiny things begin to hold your attention, the way they scrunch their nose, the way a certain word is pronounced or the way they chew their lip when lost in thought. While the whole still is important, the sum of the parts is something that is distinctly unique. Something that can’t be replaced.
Is it lazy to want to be able to bypass the tough part of actually opening up to someone and just being able to directly move on to the easy familiarity? To start the whole process again probably is exhilarating, but it also happens to be a time of terrible unsurety. The beauty during the first few dances may lie in its awkwardness however I prefer the slow languid movements of a known partner. I wonder if it has to do partly with my cynicism or my insecurities. It is tough to constantly maintain a facade, to not be able to share your quirkiness directly. To not scare them away by coming across as too opinionated when sarcastic and opinionated forms the core of your being.
I will have to plod through all this though. Say the required words, dance the required dances till I find someone who finds these to be just as pointless. To slowly figure out the pieces of the puzzle together. Once the puzzle is almost done, frame it while we relax with a cup of tea and watch the world move by. Find common songs and have stories that begin with “So the other day”. Till then, I will continue to focus inwardly and give people a reason to love me.
(Image: Apocalypse Please by Marek Okon)