Sinimani

I just got back from walking Samson... or better yet him walking me... and while I was out I ran into this couple that had just moved in across the street. They saw Sam and wanted to pet him and share their dog stories with me, which is completely normal. It turns out, they are the most gorgeous couple I have ever seen in my life. Both are Amazonian tall. Both are extremely well dressed. Both are super nice and well-spoken, and have the most amazing faces... weird, no?

It just strikes me at how perfect they seem/are. Its weird to feel jealous of strangers. For a second I wanted to be them. I started to wonder about their dynamic, if the sex was good, if they still laugh at each others' jokes, or set aside time to go on dates or share the day's stories with one another. They must be perfect. There are so many dysfunctional couples surrounding me, that its hard to imagine what 'perfect' is within a relationship. I understand that the meaning of perfect varies from person to person, I just felt as if I had met the most fantastic, almost celebrity-style couple

I wish I could be normal. Tonight was weird. I stood up someone, thinking I might actually go on a date with someone I'm interested in, only to be stood up in return. Sucks. Its that same firefighter from the dog park. Tonight was supposed to be the first night we actually meet up outside the dog park... and instead I got stood up. I don't believe in karma, but I'm sure the cosmic love gods partook in tonight's events, in response to me blowing someone off (not in the good way, haha).

I get so frustrated. I wish this person that's supposed to let me get over Ern would just show himself already. I think about Ern so many times throughout the day, and I can't seem to detach the romantic and emotional side from those thoughts. I wish I could think of him as just a friend, but I have yet to be able to. I wonder if he understands how I feel. I've longed for people before, but to me these feelings surpass all previous beliefs. Its like this empty vacuum in my chest, that when a thought of him comes to mind, all of a sudden the vacuum is turned on and pulls at everything surrounding my heart, as if it is imploding.

I would give anything to have one more moment with him. One more time to kiss him. One more time to swim in the ocean at night or feel for each other under the covers. I can close my eyes and feel my caress across his skin and retrace every inch of his body, touching the smoothest skin on his hips and back. God I miss that passion. I miss the fire. The companionship. The confusion. The anger. The love. I miss his bad breath in the morning. His skinny ankles. His smell every time I would breath him in. The way his hair on his arms ends where his shirt sleeve would start.

I have never loved anyone the way I love Ern. And I get so mad at whatever cosmic being responsible for allowing me to feel this much. I know he wishes I could be normal and look at him like any other person/friend. He's such a dream.

But these thoughts are meaningless. These feelings hold no weight. It is the hardest thing to love someone so much who you're not allowed to. To walk with such a heavy heart breaks me down. And knowing there is nothing I can do about it drags me further through this misery.

So when I see this gorgeous couple standing before me, I wish nothing more than to stand in their shoes. To seemingly stand next to the one I love with the confidence of his love in return. I want that normalcy, and I worry there will never be a normal for me. Especially without Ern, a reciprocated love.

Lastly, this past week for my Latin American History Colloquium, we were required to read, The Mixtecs of Colonial Oazaca: Nudzahui History, Sixteenth Through Eighteenth Centuries, by Kevin Terraciano. Granted I got through about 20 pages (of a 510 page book), but something struck out at me during class. In his chapter entitled, Language, Terraciano discusses the way in which the Nudzahui composed their language by employing a noun as an object of a common verb. As he gave examples, one particularly stuck out:

"The verb 'to love' is sinimani, consisting of sini (to know), and mani (preciousness)."

I've never been able to give Ern a substantial reason for loving him the way that I do. Even to this day, Ern is incapable of understanding how I, of all people, can honestly waste away with the dream of loving him. When I read Terraciano's passage, I couldn't help but think of Ern, thinking the Nudzahui definition of "to love" essentially relates to mine. To love Ern is to know preciousness. To me, there is an undeniable value to Ern that has obtained a certain kind of preciousness, that surpasses any love I've known. I don't want to give up.

sinimani