The anxiety of falling out of love could only find repose... in love
The sadness I can deal with - I know if I let it run its course it will eventually dissipate and transform into something like joy. It's the anxiety that debilitates me. I've been wondering what's causing it and it seems to kick in when I question the rightness of splitting up. Thinking I could be making a mistake. It's not logical, given the overview of everything, but it's there. A mild panic that if I'm going through all this, there'd better be a good reason for it. There is.
I can feel myself recasting my dreams in other directions. I'm lightening, though still easily triggered. I went for a hike today somewhere we used to go and came to a spot we stopped at once when we were first seeing each other. He put his arms around me; he had this incredible way of holding me gentle but firm. His limbs always wound around me, like twining vines. It made me feel safe. Encapsulated.
When I got to that spot, I cried. I cry when I see someone's words about love. Or when I see a photo with a man's hands on a woman's body - even the image of skin touching skin moves me. I've been hunched over in bathroom stalls between meetings, and alone in the forest in tears. Someone (thank you) wrote to me today: "the pain is intrinsic to healing." I agree.
On another note, I'm ovulating. I'm a jittery, sensitized huntress. I see myself scanning rooms, scanning men, looking for a match. My sexual compatibility locator is fairly accurate and I can feel it activating. I'm going to sit on this for now though. (I guess we'll see how long). The Taoists say that we can convert our sexual energy into creative energy, so that's what I'm focusing on. Looking at art porn all day, however, does nothing to diminish my urges.