"All these storms are now behind us..."

What day *is* it, anyway? Ah. The 18th. Sir and I will be leaving town this Saturday, and I will be back in ten days, he will be gone a fortnight. Over that time, my birthday and our anniversary will happen. The first is the 27th, the second the....I can never remember....the 24thish?

Shopping for cards today, just my luck, the store was in the midst of re-stocking, so the selection was rather paltry. I did find one for my niece (10 on the 29th), and spent a good 1/2 hour looking through for a card for Sir. It's always hard to find one with an appropriate sentiment that doesn't use words like 'married', husband', or 'wife'. Interestingly, though, I saw quite a few cards geared for lesbians and gays. I almost picked one up, till I realized no, no, while the other figure does have biceps as developed as my own, it is, indeed, male.:) (Buff Jade) (Actually, the word 'companion' felt wrong, coming from me. I take these things entirely to seriously, I know, but people do love the cards I give) While looking through the cards, I indulged in some nostalgia...
( Some BDSM content )

Four years seems like both a lifetime and a moment. There have been times I've pounded my fists on the walls, desperate to run away, to escape, but I always return to his hand. We almost lost it all once, when I had to leave Escobar, but we built it back up, stronger and more beautiful than before. Every passing day, when I just take a single moment to see, really see, what we have, what we are, fills me with a sense of awe. Four simple years...I can only hope I'm worthy of them, and that he is as happy as I am.

After such a life, I am at peace.

Wow.

(no subject)

A couple of quick notes before bed, so I don't forget to think more about them. (oh, and I leave Sunday, not Saturday)

I spend time in the past because the present is amusingly, scary. Cinderella is waiting for the clock to strike twelve, when all she's left with is less-than-sensible shoes.:)

Closure is a myth, propogated by those that wish to sell one something. Actually, rather than being myth, it is both choice and beyond choice. It's like reincarnation, in a sense, you keep moving around the wheel till you learn all the lessons that are there. For truly life-changing events, that can be a lot of lessons. And that's just fine.

"Oh, the water's rising, how do we get to the other shore?
Many hearts are troubled, but we ain't got so far to go.
No, we ain't got so far to go."

"Something changed inside himself..."

News from Chez Mom's; At a book fair, after deliberation with my dad as to whether he'd actually read it, my parents bought a copy of "Rekindling Romance For Dummies" (No, I'm dead serious, they did. Really. Pick yourself up off the floor, dear, you'll hurt yourself.) I am beyond amused. Watching my parents life is like watching a Richter scale. This is better than cable!

On last nights thoughts...it's hard to tell sometimes when we've thought something to death. Coming from a philosophical tradition like mine makes it even harder to tell when the horse is truly dead. Connected to this is the difficulty of being in the present. The past and future are so much more interesting - in the past we can rehash old arguements, relive old dramas, finally, even if only in the arena of our own mind, make things right, or say that brillant thing we thought of two hours too late. In the future we are kings and queens of our castles, creating these elaborate constructions built on fantasy and dream. Sitting here in this chair, typing these words, is so prosaic, a surface consideration strips it of content, meaning, color, shading it all dull grey.

It's a safe grey, though, because without those elaborate constructions, the future is near-blank, mysterious, dangerous in its mystery.

It's a fine balance, knowing when to step into the different arenas of time. I'm struggling a little with it, but I expected that.

Is that horse twitching....?:)