August 4, 2008

quietly masquerading as grace

sharing is weird. i love it, need it and caress, in my heart, the situations in which it happens. but sharing also has a strange and discomforting side to it. 

today i discussed breakfast plans with k, who then wandered off to water the garden (an honourable decision, i figured). i made coffee, then toast, which i ate while browsing the business section. when k came in with herbs and started frying up some food, i surprised myself with some guilt. i guess i'd figured our plans had been forgotten.

as i was served, i got myself a fork while forgetting to get one for k. in haste, i wiped off a section of the table, strewn all over by my saturday paper. eventually, k asked me how the food was. honestly, it was tasty, but i was still thinking about 'being a good guest'. quietly, k mentioned this had been the first cooking session in a while. 

ah, the things of import. and how i miss seeing them. and love being shown, when i can get over myself long enough to appreciate it. who gives a shit about forks? they aren't the gift. 

we're learning how to share, k and i. when we hang out a lot, i notice our behaviour cycling in patterns of teasing, mock defensiveness and 'haughty judgement', followed by more teasing. 
i think we use it as means to step back from the intense emotional sharing, a method that allows us to continue sharing physical space while breaking from the mad dance of love. 

mind you, maybe i'm not seeing the reason for the teasin'
an aspect to our play that's soul-pleasin'. 

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