michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 6)

to think for two years, he was here... two years of my life, he was with me every single day... not one moment did i take for granted... but now, in his physical manifestation, he's out of my life...

i thought of this and i began to tear at work. i thought the tears were going to stop, i thought i was going to feel better... but i cried to one of my co-workers... everywhere i turn is his name; it's his pictures. HE IS STILL HERE! when i conceive of him in an abstract way; in terms of how he affects culture and society i feel more comfortable (for what it's worth, at this point in time). but when i speak of him in relation to myself i can do nothing but cry.

damned indecision. that's all it is. i am still torn, and confused. i have no pride at this moment... i have become completely vulnerable. i have kept my love for him anything but suppressed; it was inside of me, anxious to come out. what i HAVE kept inside (except to a few people) is the EXTENT of my love for him. because i don't expect people to understand.

for two years i have developed a love for him that i reserve for very few people... it is beyond any physical manifestation. it runs beyond the sexual, and even the platonic. it was a love which simultaneously angered me and gave me comfort. this love for him was rooted in self-reflection. he has transformed me, and manifested himself onto me. i was told the other day that i EMBODIED him...

as i have been saying, he was my life's teacher. but not only that, he WAS my friend. be became all of these transfigurations of 'family member/companion' (not unlike his apparent perceptions of the relationship he had with diana ross)... but these transfigurations are not as simple as one may think. i did not personally know him, so i could never define my relationship with him in terms of a literal experience. as i said, this is difficult for me to describe; particularly if i do not know you. in light of his... transcendence, where do i begin? the beginning will never be the same as with someone who has followed my progression in terms of my love for him.

to think for two years... he took this trip with me. he allowed me into his life, to look at him in order to find what was in myself. all i had to do was look into his eyes to know... over the course of these two years i have fallen in love with his flaws. his flaws were an immense part of his art. to discuss his flaws in relation to the physical is too limiting. doing this also aims to succeed at making us feel better about ourselves. to truly see who he is; to see his imperfections all one has to do is pay attention to his art. i find his imperfections to be beautiful, because it's reflective of his humanity. he was just as demanding, just as difficult, just as uncompromising, just as scared, just as insecure, just as fragile, just as romantic/idealistic/unrealistic, just as unreasonable, just as angry... as any of us. just as much as he was loving, inquisitive, proud, gracious, loyal, courteous, passionate, sympathetic. to not see him multi-dimentionally is a disservice to his character.and so, he's out of my life; affecting me in a way where i can't even listen to music at all. it wouldn't be so hard if i had some people to grieve with... if i didn't have to have what i feel to be trivial word exchanges with strangers, who smile and chuckle when i tell them i am in mourning. or try to convince me the dolls are now financially worth something. (and of course, to me they are- priceless!) or assume that i just got them due to the course of events. how do you explain to these people your relationship with someone you have never physically met?

i try not to be angry, but this loneliness is killing me...

when i come home i start to feel better, but the outside world makes me cry, because as comforting as some people have tried to be, i need to be around people who KNOW. and there has been too much stimulation. i have not been able to just sit and reflect yet, truly. it's just all too much for me right now. i have accepted all this but it still hasn't sunk in yet.

as angry as i am with the outside world, still...

i think if i were to truly sit and reflect i'd be afraid that i may just break down and never stop crying. tiffany already told me about this running away... i do acknowledge that it is a safety net for me, to just keep running, just keep busy. i got three hours of sleep before i had to go to work... i just need to keep writing, i need to keep my mind occupied. i must remind myself that writing is theraputic.

i feel so at a loss though... none of these words i write can never describe the pain i am feeling, and how much i love(d) him.

as of today it will have been a week since he has physically been out of our lives... and i haven't really laughed all week. all i know is that it doesn't cut, but it stabs. my heart hurts.