The moon was in Aquarius for this photo. I can still feel that airy reflective detachment when I look at this.
During most of my drive last night the moon was concealed by this small cluster of clouds in an otherwise clear night sky. On a lark, I took a detour and wound up at this bench on the water with a dynamite view. I just wanted to sit there and think. The breeze was gentle and the rain was sprinkling here and there. Actually, I’m not sure thinking was really part of it as much as I just wanted to sit there. The moon was so big and bright and the ceiling so high. I just wanted to look at it.
After that fight, everything is different. The shock has faded, sure. But the vibe is different. More than that. It’s off. I’m not interested in being in it, around it. It’s very clear that there is no undoing what was done. This kind of emotional emancipation is something I haven’t felt in a while. It’s the they-crossed-a-line-and-now-it’s-done feeling. No anger, no malice, not even really sadness. That’s gone. It’s like they took a sword and sliced through the ropes that moored us together. Like a cord cutting even.
The irony of this is I had a conversation about this mechanism with one of the family members maybe a week before the fight. They knew what I was talking about and understood. It was solely about the concept and not because anyone had done anything. We happened to talk about it. And now here we are. This divorcing of my feelings doesn’t involve this specific family member, but another — their life partner. This adds another complication to it.Continue reading “Journal: By the Light of the Moon”