I had a great conversation this evening with my housemate Brian.  I took a break from frantically moving and enjoyed a delicious meal which he had prepared for the both of us.  The first topic that naturally came up was the upcoming living situation.  With the advent of a new chapter in the house we are presiding, we attempted to diagnose the various ways people tend to live and the psychological motivation behind it.  I have figured out several different aspects of myself over the years, most of them through painful experiences and repeatedly making the same stupid mistakes.  One of those many things is this: I tend to organize myself externally if my internal life is in disarray.  Control.  Power over the things that we are able to take dominion over.  Maybe if I can organize my room, stay in shape, put in a good days work, repair my car, fix my bicycle, etc...my inner life with follow suit.  And for the most part, it does.  However, the problem comes up again when I stumble across a piece of paper in my new room that tears apart any kind of control I thought I had.

It's like trying to run away as fast as you can from a fire that is engulfing you.  It's almost as though the faster you run, the more problematic the situation becomes.  The fire gets fed even more.   The flames grow higher.  Angrier.  Stronger.  Resilient.  It's only when I stop dead in my tracks, fall face first into the filthy dirt, and roll around in the mud do I stand a chance of survival.   I still have to get much dirtier before this issue is peaceful.

As of late, my life has become incredible.  Almost every area of my life has taken a drastic turn from where it was a month and a half ago.  I have a new job prospect, best friends as housemates, spring is just around the corner, chickens are on the immediate horizon, cycling is starting to become my primary mode of transportation again, and I have an enticing female interest.  But it's nights like tonight that remind me that there are some things that don't get easier.  Sometimes wounds never heal and maybe that ok.

I love you John and I fucking miss you.