I was on the verge of a freak out, but as I told, or asked my daddy.." If I can have brain surgery, I can handle a date, right?" And it hit me in that question. I never cease to amaze. I never cease to exist. I never cease to defy. Good or bad, positive or negative, I do everything in my life full force. Everything but this. But I could do it.
As M told me..." You are the godfather. You are the Man! You have game. Repeat it!" And I did, and I sashayed in, and I managed to recapture in those moments Puglet before Chiari, and before The Boy Who Was C, and before the spinal bubble, and before the move to DC, and before the monster cranial incisions, and before the creepy crawly sadness.
And the recapture wasn't because this boy is nice, and this boy is kind, and this boy is quiet, and this boy is whole, and this boy would hold my hand, but he is all these things. I think he's the catalyst, the agitator in the compound, and the things that were inert he's managed to shake up. You have to have it all together, or it's all just molecules and substances and only parts of a whole.
Either way I'm shook up good and proper. And it's good. And maybe the better part of me will reappear and stick around for longer than a sashay, or a haircut, or a flounce in a chevron striped dress.
Not sure exactly what to say, as it developed much differently than the 57 scenarios I had run through in my overactive, newly remodeled brain.
Will likely have rambling blog entry later this week as I figure it all out. If I do, which I think I will, but right now I am deep in ponderances. Because I am the Puglet, and that's what I do. But right now is time for a Negra Modelo and some tater chips, and a nice big sleep.