19 X 2001 - 17:50 - tristitia5

Impressions before a cello lesson:

This whole situation might be more amusing if I weren't in the middle of it. The person who keeps us both sane is away in the East and we're both hitting lows. I wonder if there's some hormonal thing to it... you know, like how Molly keeps telling me that women who live together in big groups (e.g. all-girls' boarding schools, convents, etc.) start getting their periods at the same time because some sort of pheremone floats through the air and their cycles start to line up? *shrugs* I don't know if that's true, but whatever. Plus I've never been within 100 miles of Oz, at least I don't think I have.

Perhaps she was right; maybe reading Emily Dickinson's poetry isn't the best idea right now. She told me that I shouldn't be reading it and that I seemed to be addicted to the stuff... I suppose reading it right now is sort of like pushing a drowning man under until the bubbles stop coming, except that I'm doing it to myself, and YES I know that my analogies are awful.

This is the Hour of Lead -
Remembered, if outlived -
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -
First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go -

Emily Dickinson

(Oh, and if you look for that poem, the first line is "After great pain, a formal feeling comes -")

It's just that I have so much of myself riding with her, that she's one of my strongest threads of guilt and will not balk, has not balked, when it comes time to jerk me back to life - and I'm sure it's the same for him, too, just a hundred thousand times more, and she's not here to keep us alive right now, so we're two ships floating on a increasingly turbulent sea, trying to anchor in the other... or at least, I'm trying to anchor in him. And I offer flesh to be hooked but *shrugs* it doesn't take. And she's not here to keep us alive, and it's just the first day, and every time she goes it affects me more. And in a previous entry, where I said that I feared what his eyes were doing to me, even though it was a different him... it's never occurred to me to be afraid of what she has done to me, or rather what she has allowed me to do to her... it's never occurred to me that just as surely as she changes in my presence, I am changing too... and we are not the dark and light, but we are bound by darker ties than most, ties which are not of blood but rather are bloody, and now I think it would kill me for sure and perhaps her if we tried to sever them, even with mutual consent, hard to come by when I'm not sure I want to sever them, we are so alike in so many ways, and some days the world is just too big and scary and so I retreat into their embrace.

So I must wonder what will happen to me should I find myself unable to retreat. Likely I'll fight as I did before, but I cannot fight alone for much longer and there are few people I trust enough to fight with me...

And I wonder if he means more to me than I do to him, but that's a question with an easy answer...

Withdrawal, times, can be a form of torture.

cruciatus, cruciatus m. torture, severe mental or physical pain