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Emotional Confusion . . .
Apr. 27th, 2005 10:58 pmSo . . . Yesterday, I started working on the scrapbook that will contain all of Matt's and my love letters, RPG character sheets from characters we designed together or that interacted a lot, and all of the condolences and articles about Matt (and, perhaps, the accident report and info about the trial - depends on how I feel about that later when I'm more level-headed). In other words, the story of our relationship in pieces. Right now, I'm working on the love letters, and, despite reading the accident report yesterday, it has brought me back to the frame of mind I was in when Matt and I were first courting. It's nice. At the same time, it has made me incredibly depressed, as he is not just living across town. So I'm happy-sad. Here begins my emotional confusion.
Last night I was at my Lindy Hop class, and we were going over leading techniques in close position. This position involves both partners touching, and the men lead with their left leg. This is so close that, for the followers their whole left side is in contact with the lead's right side. THAT close. (Let me insert here that some of the guys in my class are attractive.) It felt so good to have human male contact. I felt like, just for a moment, I could fall in love again - just to have that contact. Then I realized that it wasn't just any human male I wanted contact with. It made me miss Matt all the more. I miss his hugs, the way he would rub the back of my neck, the way he would lead me waayy to hard while dancing and throw me into the couch, apologize, then hug me and start over. I miss his body next to me at night. I miss passionate kisses. (Matt was a fantastic kisser.) I miss sex. It frustrates me to end that I can't take all of these feelings and take them out on Matt (in a very good way). I can't rub his neck, or give him a back massage, or lock our door and pounce him.
The hardest part is, as sad and frustrated as I am, because of the love-letters, a large part of my head is back in the frame of mind it was when I lived in the dorms. I keep flashing to thoughts that I'm still in the dorms and Matt just lives at Pacifico. That's how into the letters I've gotten. I've completely lost my grip on reality and it's all Matt's fault. I know this is not what he meant, but Matt once said that he'd do that to me. I had no idea. . .
I need to finish the scrapbook, though. I am so afraid that I'm going to lose some of these letters while going through my files. I'll feel better once they are all organized, mounted, and in one place where they can't escape.
Well, here's to hoping for some more dream-time visitations by Matt.
Last night I was at my Lindy Hop class, and we were going over leading techniques in close position. This position involves both partners touching, and the men lead with their left leg. This is so close that, for the followers their whole left side is in contact with the lead's right side. THAT close. (Let me insert here that some of the guys in my class are attractive.) It felt so good to have human male contact. I felt like, just for a moment, I could fall in love again - just to have that contact. Then I realized that it wasn't just any human male I wanted contact with. It made me miss Matt all the more. I miss his hugs, the way he would rub the back of my neck, the way he would lead me waayy to hard while dancing and throw me into the couch, apologize, then hug me and start over. I miss his body next to me at night. I miss passionate kisses. (Matt was a fantastic kisser.) I miss sex. It frustrates me to end that I can't take all of these feelings and take them out on Matt (in a very good way). I can't rub his neck, or give him a back massage, or lock our door and pounce him.
The hardest part is, as sad and frustrated as I am, because of the love-letters, a large part of my head is back in the frame of mind it was when I lived in the dorms. I keep flashing to thoughts that I'm still in the dorms and Matt just lives at Pacifico. That's how into the letters I've gotten. I've completely lost my grip on reality and it's all Matt's fault. I know this is not what he meant, but Matt once said that he'd do that to me. I had no idea. . .
I need to finish the scrapbook, though. I am so afraid that I'm going to lose some of these letters while going through my files. I'll feel better once they are all organized, mounted, and in one place where they can't escape.
Well, here's to hoping for some more dream-time visitations by Matt.
