. . . is a pineapple, according to me. I'm not sure if I've written about my Pineapple Philosophy, but it goes like this: I am a pineapple. I have a lot of defensive prickles, but if someone takes the time to push past those, they'll find a lot of real sweetness inside. So, I'm lying here on Emali's couch crying a little, evaluating things, listening to ridiculously painful music (the likes of Destiny's Child's 'Emotion' and Des'ree's 'Kissing You') thinking of someone's lips, desperately trying to keep my heart above water. You see, painful waves of feeling (fucking 'f' word) keep washing into my heart, relentlessly peeling back layers of prickles. These waves, these waves, they keep me off balance.
I have the feeling that I shouldn't allow myself to feel these things, it's my instinct to keep them at arm's length, hand outstretched, palm sternly on the chest of the heart of all this bittersweetness. It's probably not the smartest thing, says my head. The same head that holds the eyes that keep leaking warm, salty tears which stream down my cheeks, landing on my chest. Odd, I think, that the tears keep landing on the chest that hold my heart, thus feeding the waves. It's a time worn feeling, but crash go the waves, unfailing, lapping at my defenses.
Half of the time I don't realize that they're there, those walls. But it's nights like these, when it's pointed out to me that I - what am I? What do I write to describe myself? I'm a witty literatus, endlessly cowering behind clever banter and quick, verbose returns - am afraid, like a child hiding behind stone, brick, and mortar, all carefully placed and meticulously stacked in order to save myself - from what? From looking like a fool - that fool who lunges for something, opening up, showing the pineapple innards, only to be denied it and hurt. What does it really cost, though, should I be hurt again? Failure (or heartbreak) is just another spade full of mortar, smudged onto a brick and stragetically placed, plugging the potential hole that I have already decided will end up there. Aah, cynicism, my old friend. Hello.
I don't know how to show how I feel. I almost wrote that I don't know how to feel, but that's not true. The tears and open, raw sensation in my chest can attest to that. My heart hurts, my head is clouded, and I am frustrated. When I worked at the hospital, I used to watch recovering stroke victims struggle and strain, desperately trying to open up and tell me what they wanted, what they needed, and I pitied them. Now I pity me. I am the same. Worse, actually, because it's a self imposed prison.
Luckily I have Emali's help. She is so strong, and she patiently teaches me how to feel, and to express myself. She is patient and kind, like love. The way she is with her Angel amazes me. I would have shut down and walked away time and time again, when it got too hard. Express yourself or walk away? Emali takes fear and love (intertwined) by the hand, shows it what she is, and breathes life back into it. Jessie, however, drops the hand and steps away, like feelings are the business end of a gun and the safety is off. I would dance away from the peril time and time again, but Emali, in her gentle manner, taps her forehead to the barrel and says, 'I can handle this, and so can you'.
It would appear that I have a lot to learn in the ways of feeling and strength and bravery.
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I like the pineapple metaphor. And Emali is right, you can handle it. You just need the practice. I am the same way. The feelings are there, but for so long it felt wrong to express them and now that I want, and need, to...I don't know how. And that is heartbreaking. So I start small with the words and hope that someday I will be able to show as well as tell. In the meantime I will loose people who are not whole enough themselves to hear me and cannot wait for me to show them...and that is a loss for both of us, but tomorrow is always another day, and maybe it will see those rifts healed. I don't mean this to be so long, but I want to let you know that you are not alone in this, and to give you some advice that has helped me. My therapist told me not to think of them as walls, but as shields, because some of them are very necessary, more with some people less with others. We NEED to protect ourselves, but it is when we feel like those shields no longer protect but stifle that we must make changes. Talking helps. With Emali and everyone else you feel comfortable opening up to. I promise. Three final thoughts for you: 1) Mr. Rogers said it best when he said, "there is no 'should' or 'should not' when it comes to having feelings. They're part of who we are and their origins are beyond our control. When we can believe that, we may find it easier to make constructive choices about what to do with those feelings." 2) A safe life is no life to live. Make the reckless choice. Embrace foolishness. 3) I love your face. You are amazing.
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