In my previous life I would have gone out last night and got really fucked up. I laid down around 3:30pm with that impending wave of destruction coming on and slept through it, then slept more, and more. When you texted I had been hiding in my room for several hours and debauchery had moved into depression. I don't reach for substance anymore but I still really want to disappear. I was afraid we would get on the phone and I'd just cry selfishly and dump out all my feelings and wouldn't be able to give you the space you need, be sweet and listen and give. That's how I feel all the time with you lately, like that raw nerve who's going to spark against your raw nerve and injure us both. I sent you all that crazy stuff in email and immediately after sending it, felt revolted with myself for unleashing.
I wish I had cigarettes and a like a couple bottles of wine but I've locked myself into my room where there's no chance. I’ve been reading a nice book that says the reason we seek romantic love is because we're striving for the relaxed joy of pre-existence, of the warm womb, of the universal pulse and it's through love that we return to it, heal the perceived threats that our basic primordial brains have sealed in to “protect” us. Feeling "rejected" we hide, retreat, defend, run. Such raw primordial nerve endings sometimes, you and I.
To soothe this lizard brain, I might think of us on the couch coiled into warmth, at the movie holding hands, eating too much food, and sometimes I return to that place where I'm snuggled into your body and you're holding me so tight that everything disappears, every fear, every break, every thought, every shame, even the room, and we reach a state of stillness where I feel like I could stop breathing and still be alive.
I keep hearing myself apologizing to you "I'm sorry" but then I witness how I'm giving myself what I need to survive right now without burning the whole world down, unleashing a pent up rage which feels like my own plus the inheritance of entire blood lines, all these stoics and alcoholics who fought their monsters and lost.
I've figured out how to lock the monster up for a few days before it does some damage. It's come down to basic survival and I'm learning to slow it down, not go on a bender, emotional or alcoholic.
Underground is where I live now. I'm in the blood and dirt, the roots and strength. I use you like shelter from the storm, like a cave in winter. I curl up to sleep beside you with barely a heartbeat knowing our warmth will keep us alive until thaw and new pathways appear under all that ice and snow.