Since I've moved to the east valley, I've got in the habit of taking long drives out into the desert. It's a way of escape and relaxation for me. At first, these drives were because I couldn't sleep and getting out of the house was necessary. They helped me deal with LA (
see The Empty Seat). Since then, the drives have become an addiction, a sort of therapy.
Yesterday afternoon, I couldn't sleep. I was determined to take a nap after a weekend of playing hard, but I couldn't stop the swirl of emotions and thoughts. I headed out to Saguaro Lake, listening to a CD I mixed that I knew would make me cry. The sun had set and dusk was settling over the high desert terrain. Rain clouds hung low over the mountains, dispensing a constant mist. I pulled over at the Bulldog entrance and parked. I watched the storm clouds roll and then let tears flow. The sadness was overwhelming at all that is going right now. I'm loving and losing and falling all at the same time. I'm frustrated with myself on so many levels, wishing my weaknesses weren't so prominent and my heart wasn't encased with the high, thick walls it is.
How can it be that one person can make us feel so warm and comfortable and yet, at the same time, so intensely aware of our flaws and imperfections, even though that person is very accepting? When I'm around him, I feel good...warm and content. After we are apart, I think back on the time we spent together and feel like a fumbling idiot. I say the stupidest things, make the most outrageous comments. He makes me want to be a better person, to strive for more. To become more. But, at the same time, I know he sees the real me and finds me lacking. It's the oddest combination.