an even trade

most of the time, I am not fully aware of my grief. but occasionally, the enormous weight of it is felt all at once and I find myself emotionally borne to the floor by it. sometimes physically. I am held still for a moment and everything inside of me tries to break all at the same time. I can't control the muscles of my face, but am simultaneously rigid. it is that weird conglomeration of too-in-control and totally out-of-control. instead of breaking down into tears, like I would have a year ago, I just feel my face crumple and I cannot cry. I am so overwhelmed by emotion for that moment, that nothing can even happen. I have gotten so used to not letting go, that even when I feel the need to, I can't. So I just walk on with this heaviness in my chest. I continue on with what I was doing, because what else can I do? My mom is dead. no amount of crying will bring her back. and I don't want to cry with no one here to comfort me.

I remember sobbing on Shiny at two in the morning. I remember his little sad sounds, and the warmth of his torso as he enveloped me. I remember how lost I felt when he left me. I remember the stillness I found in his presence. I remember the emptiness he gave. but I loved him, and for his part, he loved me. it just wasn't enough for either of us. and it always bothered me that he wasn't more affected by my mom's death. it bothered me that he didn't cry, too.

this past year has stretched me in ways I'd hoped to eventually reach, but not like this. I have become more patient. I have gotten used to solitude. I remember, years ago, how I could not be alone. now I'm not sure how to be around people. It becomes a game, where I put on my charisma and people fall for it. I'm fine with that. it makes things easier. we all get to feel good about ourselves and in the end, no one has to give away anything real or frightening. I feel hollow at the end of it, but I had a good time. I have so few people I can talk to about anything, with honesty, who listen without judgment, and will give back in return, who ask for nothing. I can think of two.
I still feel this guardedness with Fig. I can read him but he can't read me. I still keep up barriers. I still can't entirely feel what I know to be there. and I wonder if this is what it was like for shiny. I can't bear to contemplate putting Fig through that. I don't think things will happen that way. we're very different people, this is a very different situation. but I believe in balance. in my life, all that has hurt me has turned itself around so that I could understand it. or if I hurt someone, I had something like that then done to me. it doesn't mean it was the same situation, but I've had to understand so many different points of view. it hasn't stopped me hating, but it's helped me move on to other things. I still hate ex-otter. but that's because of him, not necessarily what he did to me. he hasn't learned. he just speaks the words. he doesn't feel them.
so just because I have this emptiness inside of me, that doesn't reflect on Fig. the things I say I feel for him, I do. it's just harder to completely feel it sometimes. it has been a long time since I've had someone so completely adore me. and he thinks he has baggage, but it is nothing in relation to other people I have known. he doesn't know that his inexperience is his saving grace. he doesn't know that it has made him strong in ways that I can't comprehend.
what he lacks in experience, he makes up for with an enthusiasm that I personally haven't been able to feel in years. he is able to appreciate things that other people started taking for granted a long time ago. he sees in me what others never noticed, or mentioned. and I'm not sure that would be the case if he were as jaded by love as I am.
if he were as jaded by loss as I am.
I am hoping that prolonged exposure to his adoration will help to revive the parts of me that have been withered by neglect. I am hoping he will be the rain-fall I have needed. he has already been blossoming under my attention. I have been giving him experience. can he hand me hope?