Posts Tagged ‘love’


E called while I was out with C and a friend.  We chatted for a few minutes about his work, the (lack of) contents of his fridge, traded I-love-yous, and said good bye.   After I hung up, I got twin “aww” looks from C and my friend.

E and I have only recently reached the I-Love-you stage, just since right before I left for the summer. (Love me, put up with me running away for 2 months a year to play in the woods.)  It’s been interesting to see how our emotional involvement has increased over the past couple months, even with very limited contact.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that, I suppose.  It gave us both a chance to see how different life is without each other, and he’s been very open about how I am a very needed positive factor in his life.  And I rather feel the same way.  It’s all rather…sweet.  We’ve reached that point.  I like it.

When C and I got home, my conversation with E came up.  She pulled me into a hug and said it was adorable.  And that she liked that I was happy.  She was genuinely pleased.  It made me love her even more (if that’s possible).

It is a good life I have.


I hate hospitals

C had fairly major knee surgery yesterday.  The procedure took six hours, and we were at the hospital for nine.  B came to visit me for a bit toward the end of the surgery time, which was good, and E called her while she was there and talked to me for a bit, which was better.

I want to tell him how good it was to talk to him yesterday, to just hear his voice.  Even if that probably didn’t come across in the briefness of our conversation, dealing as I was with B standing RIGHT THERE, and me being me and not being entirely comfortable showing such emotions in front nearly everyone.

I’ve learned to maintain an even keel, so to speak, after years of bothering people when I’d cry over stuff.  It’s not that I don’t show any emotions, it’s just that I control what I display and am very good at maintaining appearances. It’s why I’m so good at remaining pleasant all day in customer service jobs, how I stay neutral when mediating disputes, and how I can be unendingly enthusiastic when working with kids.  And when everyone else is worrying, I must stay calm and be reassuring.

I really wanted to tell him how much I wished he could be there.  That I needed to be held and have someone tell me what I’d been telling everyone else all day: that it was all going to be fine.  That I needed someone I didn’t have to be so strong and steady and rock-like for, just for a moment.  And that I feel close enough to him for him to be that person, because I trust him with my heart.  Which is not a trust I give lightly.

Which is really saying that I love him.  And which I’m smart enough to not outright say at this juncture, but still have a desire to show.

I don’t know if I’ll manage to see him again before I leave for the summer.  I’m hoping, but there is little available time and too much that needs tending to.  My heart already aches for missing him.

About the name of my blog

In college, I was something of an obsessive Gillian Anderson fan.  My friends were even more so.  We met through a Scully fan group, and once took a road trip from Chicago to Grand Rapids so we could see where she went to HS.  Yes, we were nuts.

It also meant that we saw anything GA was in (including college shorts someone somehow got her hands on), which is how I was introduced to the best movie no one’s ever seen, Playing by Heart. The cast alone should’ve made people see it (including Sean Connery, Anthony Edwards, Gena Rowlands, Dennis Quaid, Jay Mohr, Jon Stewart, Ryan Phillipe and Angelina Jolie).  Sadly, Miramax didn’t bother promoting it and it was rather overlooked.

The movie is a look at love from just about every angle: new love, young love, strained love, long-time love, parental love, love lost and love refound.  The opening scene is a monologue by Joan, Angelina Jolie’s character, a 20ish party girl:

Joan: I have a friend, jazz musician…trumpet player, really terrific. And I go and hear him jam every month or so and he plays this piece I love, an old Chet Baker song. And he blows the same notes every time and every time it sounds so different. And we had drinks one night…when I used to drink….and I tried to tell him how that song made me feel, how the music made me feel, how his playing made me feel. And he just kept shakin’ his head and he said “Joan, you can’t talk about music! Talking about music is like dancing about architecture,” and I just said, “Well fine! Gonna get all philosophical on me, it’s just as pointless as talking about a lot of things, love for instance.” And my friend laughed and he said, “Definitely, most definitely, talking about love is like dancing about architecture.” So I don’t know, he might be right…but it ain’t gonna stop me from trying.

That says it all, I think.