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Polymorphism

lapses in emotional recordkeeping

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lapses in emotional recordkeeping

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So.

Thursday through Saturday were filled with Buddy.  A lot of things that happened in that time were perfect, perfectly fitting, perfect tribute.  It would have suited Buddy's sense of aesthetics very well - and though I'm not through thinking about him, I feel very much at peace w/r/t him.

I hope to write about what happened, get it down before it fades.  The window for this is slim, but it's possible.

It's made difficult, though, by the fact that the preexisting mental mess I had going was not a good foundation for dealing with his loss.  I think I have coped okay, with Buddy's passing - I have certainly hopped my way across that pond of dread, one lily pad at a time - but I have yet to cope with the crap that got covered BY Buddy.

I had a big head of steam built up, but that train has pretty much been completely derailed.  Though I would have preferred for it to just wait, I had little control over that, and my thinking about the ending of my last relationship has been pushing in up and around the Buddy stuff.  The two events are still sharply discrete (thanks to the universe for THAT small favor, anyway), but I had wanted to write my relationship thoughts down as I thought it out.   I still can record those thoughts, they aren't going anywhere*... but the ephemeral aspect of thought process is lost, and that's part of what I wanted.

I'm still doing some processing, so I still could catch it - but the Buddy writing will have a much shorter shelf life in my top brain - it has to come first.

Ah, well.  Perhaps, in terms of my relationship with C, I was not supposed to have anything but the finished products in a smooth form - assuming the idea of "supposed to" in this type of context has any real world meaning at all.


*  Sometimes my consistency is almost eerie when seen in conjunction with my poor memory.  I will respond, forget my responses, and then respond again the same way to the same stimuli.  I've found this to happen in my journals, and the only reason it isn't creepy to me is that I understand WHY it happens.
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