You Can't Go Home Again

(In order to understand this post, please read the one below this – Reality - first.)
I frequently start composing my posts from the title down and in the early pre-dawn I titled this “That Pesky Genie” referring to having once been let out of the bottle, the genie just doesn’t go back in. That could still be the title but it struck me as flippant (which is typically me) when dealing with issues that are deserving of more.

I am back at my desk some 13 hours after writing my last post trying to comprehend the ongoing mystery of my life. I went home and while the little ones watched the opening ceremonies, I sat with K at the kitchen table and told her pretty much everything in the Reality psot(only leaving out how I spent my lunch hour).

Have I mentioned that when it comes to these matters of the heart and soul that K is smarter than me? K tells me that she believes that I mean well, but that I am not being honest with myself. That I have not finished my exploration. That she can live with my finishing my exploration for the next month, six months, or a year. She sees us being together no matter what (within reason). She cannot handle my declaring my exploration over now only to announce in a year, or two or three, I really wasn’t finished – let’s go through this again.

So there are two genies out there now – the genie of our relationship – what has been said cannot be unsaid, and the genie of my being bi. Having been bi and in denial for forty years, I suppose imagining that I have come to any reality in four months is naïve. K knows my fantasies and that I cannot change them. Whether I act on them or not, the fantasies are their own reality and are not going back into any bottle either.

So K is right – as “noble” an attempt as last night was and as much as I did mean it, I am not there yet. A week ago I sent her 30 seconds of this song (a snippet to start her day). I really need to listen to myself better:

It’s no matter if you’re born
To play the king or pawn
For the line is thinly drawn ’tween joy and sorrow,
So my fantasy
Becomes reality,
And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow.

So I’ll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And flowers never bend
With the rainfall.

The ride goes on. Any thoughts are always welcome.