Friday, January 01, 2010

So I like metaphors.

I'm confused by all these new feelings and I don't know what to do with them. It sort of feels like when I accidentally pull the needle out of a knitting project and all the naked loops are hanging there, exposed. And one tug would undo the whole row, the whole scarf. Unstable and fragile without that needle. And putting the needle back in is another thing entirely. You have to make sure the loops are all facing the same way. You have to make sure you don't drop any and that everything goes in the right order.

So our relationship is this imaginary scarf. We've been adding rows and rows of knitting every day and every conversation and every touch and laugh. Making the pattern. Our pattern. But last night the pattern changed. Like a new thread being worked in with the rest. A new, completely different row. And I feel like the needle was ripped out and now I don't know what we do next. Do we unravel that last row? Go back to the safe, familiar pattern. It would be easy to do. Pretend my eyes had never seen the new thread. I would only think about it all the time.

Or we could work this new pattern. Unfamiliar and beautiful as it is. Gently work the needle back through these new loops. The thing I had been secretly hoping for. It could end in disaster. But it could be great. So much better than great.

But I don't get to decide alone. And you aren't here with me.

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