separation without anxiety?
I thought I might ease myself back into the swing of blogging by writing about things in a roundabout sort of way. How is this any different from my normal blogging, you ask? Well, it isn't.. but it still gives me an excuse for poor or lacking content when I have nothing to say, or something to say that especially doesn't make sense.

After the last few weeks and in preparation of the next few coming weeks, I really have needed some "quiet time" to wind down and wind up for what's coming. The silly part is that I really HAVEN'T gotten any quiet time; that I've been busier than ever and that my lack of blogging here to collect my thoughts probably has hurt more than helped me. So fwar. What really cracks me up is that in my two week absense, Alex (who never writes in his frikkin LJ) has blogged more than in the last four months. And I missed it because I had just... JUST given up on ever seeing him write anything in there again. Hah.

When I wrote "the end of an era," it was to Alex I was referring. He's gone to Eurpoe until September and I'll be leaving Eugene for Tokyo mere hours after (or mere hours before) he comes back. Now marks the beginning of the first time that we've ever really been "apart" and the first time, that we've never really been apart at all. After three years of an inseparable romance, two years of angst and regret, and a year of a still-growing friendship, this separation is representative of a true letting go on both our parts. I could never have left like this when we were together without a severing. I could never have left like this when we were apart without still being wrenched with guilt and unresolved issues. While I think we've both been extremely surprised at the remarkable trust and confidence that's grown between us in the last year, it seems to make sense after how long we've walked together. It makes me sad to know that I might not see him for almost a year, but the potential for travel visitation and conversation in the interrum is promising and comforting, as is the thought that when I get back I know I'll have at least one friend who will still "Know" me even if I have changed.

Still, I'm glad for the chance to be really alone, as I know he is. There's something stabilizing about our relationship but some parts of it still sting with the temptation to be drawn back into drama. I think, however, that as adult as we've become we're mature enough to know when crossing boundaries is OK, when it's not OK, and when it'll happen regardless of what the world thinks is right. So we've made our peace but we haven't said goodbye. I think we'll both value the space and calm that we'll have from each other after six very intense years. I'll miss the late-night conversations and the walks, I'll miss the company and the confidance, but I'll be glad to step back and gain some perspective. I know he feels the same way.

On the other hand, Justin and I seem to be faring better than I expected, considering our impending demise. (That's semi-sarcasm by the way.) This Spring I was really fearful that we'd be at each other's throats by now, pushing each other away in spite... or that we'd be trembling and clingy. But we're neither. Life for me has, strangely, proceeded much as usual. I still don't know if I'll be hit by a trememdous shock wave when I get to Tokyo in a month or if I'll simply carry on. Carrying on seems to be the thing to do right now.

After being in a relationship of some monogamous sort for the last six years, I don't know if I'm in for trauma or a treat being alone. I'm anticipating a period of relief, then regret, loneliness, and adjustment. I'm not sure if single life will suit me or not. Part of me really wants Justin to visit me in Tokyo if possible and part of me says that planning on it is a bad idea. I guess time will tell.

Tomorrow the two of us are off to our second weekend of faire in Gig Harbor, WA. I haven't taken any pictures because I've been cast into roles all day long. The first day last week I got to play Lady Katlin, grandaughted of Lord Garth the tourney host. I was, again, kidnapped but this time returned upon horseback carrying the tourney prize. The second day, much to my bemusement, I played Lady Katlin, child bride of Lord Dameon. Dameon is the Knights' troupe leader and awfully good at at least pretending to be a horrible letch. I'm often at a loss as to whether he's joking or only half-serious. In any case, I'm assuming for the moment that that embarrasing (but hillariously FUN) casting was the result of a personal conversation I had with Dameon after scotch, sake, and lambic the preceeding evening. I think Dameon's way of showing someone that he's fond of them is to embarrass them as profusely as possible. Hence the continuous mockery made of Justin's more effeminate habits. heh.

This weekend I'll be playing Vanya Blanche, a mystic and field marshal. I don't know what I'll be doing as I have no scripted lines or actions (I haven't really yet except repeated kidnappings, apparently I do those well). I suppose it will be the same as always: donning a large amount of stage makeup, dressing up in black, and acting snarly/ trollopish so that the male members of the audience get hardons. Or something. I still haven't worked up the courage to be myself in front of a few hundred people. Can you blame me?

I'm rather looking forward to this weekend if just to continue the conversation which Dameon and I were having last Saturday. I finally had just enough (but not too much) liquor in my system to segue into the rather personal conversation I'd been wanting to bring up with him for a while. It's not "personal" in the sense that you might imagine but in a more spiritual and private sense. A mysic event that shaped my upbringing and made me who I Am. A calling. Something so huge in my life that I've only ever attempted to tell three (now four?) people. I laugh, I cry (always cry), I shake my head in disbelief and I call myself stupid. My dream, my fantasy, my lie. I've been called Seeker, Dreamer and secretly by myself, Liar. But now, for the first time, I may have the one thing that I've waited these twelve years for: A teacher. Someone who has already told me that my dreams are more than childhood fantasy compounded by years of loss and incompleteness. I'm not crazy... there may be a Calling. I may yet find the Third.