The Color Blue

My mind works in a strange connected reality existence way.

I woke up this morning thinking about what I was going to do for the day. I've got tons of chores to do, laundry that's piled up, paperwork to complete, and material to find a place for in an already cramped closet. So..my fabric made me think of the color blue (since I have a huge piece of blue brocade I don't know what to do with) and how much Gerd likes blue.

Marlon liked blue too. Okay, more than liked. If he bought something new there was a 99% chance it would either be blue or have blue somewhere in or on it. If apples came in a blue or an orange bag, he was sure to chose the blue bag, regardless of the apples.

Both Marlon and Gerd are actually a lot alike.

Both:
like blue
are computer programmers
are quiet men
are somewhat like my father, but have elements of my step-father as well (Marlon-Photography, Gerd-neat freak..well sort of)

Certainly there are differences, and on paper Marlon sounds like the better man. He's religious, has similar goals to mine, a similar cultural upbringing, etc. I've already realized though that Gerd is the better man for me.

But that got me to thinking about what I've been looking for in guys over the years. Has everyone I seriously dated had the same qualities? What was I looking for?

I thought of Matt, my first boyfriend in college and tried to remember if he liked the color blue. I'm pretty sure red was his favorite color. When I think back to Matt I remember feeling overwhelmed by his intensity. I remember wanting him to be happy, and for a while I thought he was. But he was so intense, he never stayed happy long, and he drug me down with him for a while. Later I would see him again, happy and think that we could be happy together then, only to discover than when we tried we sank back down again. I felt like our connection would never fail, even if we went other ways. I was wrong.

I felt that same connection with Devon. I'm not sure what went wrong there. I know that I no longer love him. Finally. Perhaps I loved him too much at the time. Perhaps as Matt is to me, I was to him. I don't know. I honestly thought I would die when we split up. In a way I think a part of me did.

So this intensity... I don't trust it. I don't know what it was, but I suspect it's a flaw within my own character. A manic that is often concealed by relationships or political views, or flurry of religion.

I didn't feel manic for Marlon, although I did love him. It never seemed deep enough because of its lack of intensity.

I seem to have lost some of my intensity in the war. I count that as one benefit. I still feel happy, sad, confused, scared, but the passion of my youth seems to have faded. There is some shelter in numbness. For others I would say it's bad to be numb, but for me, who felt everything so brightly, it's like sunglasses when you really need them.

When I returned from war I fell in love with Hamish. But did I really fall in love? I think love was more of a decision with him. He was intense and broken, and so was I. It was stormy and difficult, but I learned to love again. Or perhaps I learned to love for the first time..outside of the intensity of the feeling of love. I still love him, enough to know we couldn't suit forever.

I don't feel manic about Gerd. Instead I feel content. I've never felt content before and I'm not sure what to do with it. It's like I've got a life saver in my mouth and I'm trying so hard not to chew it up and just enjoy the taste.

I want Gerd to marry me, but the reasons I've wanted him to marry me aren't the right ones. I'm worried about his visa, I want to feel financially secure, I want my family to be relieved that we're no longer living together while unwedded, I want to have children soon.

So am I really content? If not, what is this? I'm not sure I understand love, at least with sunglasses on. But I think I'm happy. What a strange feeling, and something I've chased after my whole life.