You know, marriage is surely not what they say.  Surely signing the contract and making promises in front of people doesn’t mean loneliness is going to leave you.  That you will never again hear those hems dragging across the porch toward your front door.  Loneliness has to persist, because loneliness is the realization that you are an individual … and an individual is solitary.

Easy to know this while reading Kierkegaard and not being in love.  Hard to know this while deeply in love and feeling the mostly-impermeable edges of your self resisting the mostly-impermeable edges of the other’s self.  Meanings losing themselves in the air between you (two ships rolling and creaking in a night storm, flares and flames unable to stay lit), things happening you didn’t want and don’t understand.  Words, and love, the things you said could never break under the weight of misunderstanding, breaking under the weight of misunderstanding.  Terrible moments at any point on the spectrum for people like me, who wanted their souls and the souls of their true loves to meld and weave like puffs of smoke, knowing and telling no longer directly related.  Die-hard romantics, you know.

But Carla and I were talking after the wedding the other night, talking behind an azalea with a little No. 7, about these things.  She would be glad to know that this conversation helped me remember things about living with love that I feverishly copied down from Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing two years ago.

The individual, the one (you) (me) whose life is shaped by forces both within and beyond her control, is still the owner of her life.  It’s really the kind of ownership that is empowering, freeing, and can be terrifying, but it is.  It seems to exist as a law of the universe — A can’t occupy the space that B is occupying at the same time.  (I don’t know where this is in quantum mechanics, but .. would like to know.  Suspicion that the Heisenberg Uncertainty is somehow related…wish I knew more.)  Boy and girl falling in love is not the creation of a new single self, can’t be.  A new thing, yes of course, but what is it?  I own my life, and M owns his, and they are growing together not quite like a graft and not quite like roots interlacing in soil, but my “I” and his “I” are not lost.

My eternal search for right metaphors and analogies continues.  Loving my true love is less like my adolescent understanding of Van & Davy’s “sharing,” and more like following a river.  I said that already somewhere … somehow it’s still the metaphor that rings truest.  Although it has its limits.  I hope both of us live long enough to find something much better, much more informed.

Maybe when I’m in school I’ll be forced to hammer out my thoughts on these things instead of rambling confusedly on a blog.

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