Actively Forget

(this is an old one, written in the fall of 2011)

Yes.
Specifically to actively forget, to move on, to keep going, just like I said I was. I never stopped.
Don't do it, friends said. You'll get attached.
Of course I'll get attached. I loves me some attachment, I do.
Metered, please. Controlled, but oh! Not that much.

Shopping for soulmates never works. I would that I could be silent with someone. It occurs to be this should be a prerequisite and perhaps an addition to my various online dating profiles. "Must be able to be still and watch." That's not it, either.

The stop-start of conversation is different with different people. And indeed different at different times. So sweet when it seems to flow naturally, mutually.

Ah mutuality! Where have you been? Why do you live so far away?

No, nothing is perfect. Cracks and fissures emerge no matter how solid. I believe that. Which is why I relish in being able to watch myself, alone.

I try to find LONG stretches of time.
Hang on long moments.
Always alone.

There's something to that. This thing.
Alone.

But then there's this compelling thing about some people. What is that? What is that bell that gets rung in my head. It happens immediately, for the most part. Seriously. I know in five minutes if I'm going to fall for this one. Less. Two.

What is that?

Programming, let's say. And that's true for sure. Trying to resolve a relationship of the past. Trying to work past the point where we wondered "why can't I make this work?" And I wonder why. And how I can know so quickly. But I do, of this I am sure.

Oh that bell, that sweet sweet bell. I don't hear it but I feel the vibration go all through my body. And then I can't help but stare. Talk. Open up. There you go. Were you looking for my heart? Right here, hon.

Yeah, I know. Trying to win the attention of someone, that's my Achilles heel. I am relentlessly the six year old, doing a cannonball into the pool, picking out a tune on the piano, singing a Helen Reddy song by the slide tucked into the wading pool. It's good, I promise, and I mean earnestly. It's the best I've got and all I have and it's for you.

(brakes screech)

Right well, it used to go that far. Now I am relentlessly paranoid and guarded. Except for those internal gong moments, and then all bets are off. Pavlov's motherfucking bell, man.

Somehow I know that the initial attention is temporary, and I decide somewhere that I will prove myself, once and for all.

Yup.

Secret unlocked. Sim sala bim!

Now, out! All the madness and sadness and what the fuck are you CRYING about now? Huh? What you need, sister, is a good dose of Actively Forget. You need to open your eyes and look around. Never mind that Gong Sister you spied tonight. Keep it moving. Yes yesyes.

Come on. To bed. Your ass has to be up in the morning.