The Tendrils of Reality

Every so often, I get pangs of wistful longing, having a girlfriend who I care for immensely in a city 3,000 miles away. Eventually, the rational mind takes over the heart, one reminding the other that she'll soon be living in New York and, one day, we'll be waking up next to each other without the need for phones, e-mail, instant messages or telepathy.

Since I had returned from my trip West to visit her (a week tomorrow night), we've spent a good amount of time thinking about each other and how incredible we are together in every way, shape and form...how we always seem to be thinking the same thing, having the same feelings, and knowing what the other is about to say or do. Those things aren't irrelevant, mind you -- but as great as they are (both to experience and as signs of where we are at), they're not the most important thing. That, if I have guessed correctly, is that we're never better than when we're together, and that neither of us has anyone in this world with whom we'd rather be. We've managed to stuff about two full months of time (in week-long bursts) where we are together 24-7, and it still amazes me how we never have any real disagreements or difficulty.

Why this topic continues to dominate this space and my consciousness, for obvious reasons, is that the reality creeping in -- Katrina, the devestation therefrom in New Orleans, the Roberts nomination to the Supreme Court, the start of the football season and the quickening winding down of the baseball season -- these things are, technically, reality. But the truth is that reality is when Kaia and I are holding hands, exploring New York (or San Francisco), or New Jersey, or wherever we have been and/or will be. Reality is us being together, and all the other stuff -- politics, sports, the City (on either coast), parents, family -- is all secondary. I never quite grasped that to its full extent until I arrived home last week, and I think that is why the enormity of she and I is still curdling its way around the grey matter (what little there is) between my ears. I didn't quite understand the magnitude of she and I; I know I've never cared about someone more than her, and I have never craved the presence of someone like I have hers. But knowing where we are going just reminds me how insignificant everything else is.

I'm sure I'll return to my sardonic, analytical, sarcastic, arrogant, descriptive and condescending self soon -- but sometimes this sappy, easy-going, introspective wave is a good place to catch a ride. And among other things, I like the cause of this feeling, wonder why it took so long to attain, and count the days until I get an endless supply thereof.

If she were a drug, I'd be a full-on junkie. And I'd gladly overdose as much and as often as possible.

There's some reality for you...