Ansel and I fought again. Ah, feels like old times… Over “selfishness”, what to do with our limited lifematter, timespan. Irreconcilable differences born of artificial scarcity (“We can’t do both!” “It’s one or the other. So who wins? None of us do.”). Fighting over the same problems again. Coming to the same understandings again. No, it doesn’t wear us out. That’s just how we are. And we always come back made of stronger, stickier stuff than before…
May we fight and dance till the end of time, until the universe breaks…
The rhythm of our life is going to break soon. At any moment it could shatter, as shards of glass, then like pulverised sand be melted and moulded into something new… This is why I stay by him. Because no matter what, we change together. He’s the one I trust, in any situation. I’m already unrecognisable and we’re still together. So is he. We’re a unit. I feel that’s how it’s always been. Life wasn’t really life until we started living together.
People cry of loneliness and yearn for some significant other, but do they really comprehend that living with someone means living, dying, changing, flowing, clashing, sparking, melding, caressing, and burning one another, alongside each other, forever? Or do they want a fantasy? I’ve grown so much more fighting this man and fighting alongside him, than I ever did with placid agreements made with someone of pleasant and unconflicting company. How do other people live?
Well, I have no idea, but I can tell you that this man and I dance every chance we get.