More and more as I go through life, I find the fellow members of my species alienating. Rather, I feel more like an alien than one of them. The list of things they do that I don’t understand grows exponentially nearly every day, and I’m not sure if it’s because I forgot the reason, or forgot how to pretend I know the reason, or if it’s a case of the pretending getting harder and harder the longer I do it.
I don’t understand the things they value and seek out, or the vast array of little rituals they have for themselves and each other for every situation. I don’t understand their morality, their ability to bend that morality to always be in their favour, or their ability to do that same thing with honesty, integrity and loyalty.
I feel ridiculous for casting those things – morality, honesty, integrity, loyalty – as my principle deities most of the time, but only when I’m with other people. In Sashiland, those four things are unbreakable. Yet I find myself constantly compromising every part of myself – even the most essential and sacred parts of myself – for the sake of interacting with these creatures who are supposed to, somehow, be the same as me.
The loneliness is difficult to carry. I don’t even mean loneliness the way most people do. You tell people you’re lonely and they automatically presume you’re looking for someone to fuck, short term or long term. Someone to settle down with, etc. No, it’s not that. I don’t think that’s really very important, but there isn’t a word for the thing I’m looking for and people give you judging looks when you say a romantic relationship isn’t on your list of priorities. <i>(And why should it be when the furthest ahead you can plan your life – at best – is 7 months?)</i>
‘Loneliness’ to me is the loneliness of Tigger. The unicorn. Whatever other Only Ones there are out there. I’ve never liked unicorns, though, and Tigger is bouncy, flouncy, trouncy, pouncy fun.
Because that’s the thing – those creatures who are supposed to be the same as me, they live in either/or. They have packs and groups, identifiers that mark them as part of a collective. Things they can hold up and say: Yes, I fit here. And I live in the shades of grey. I don’t fit into any single religion, sexuality, gender, nationality, culture, subculture or even interest group. There isn’t any part of me that isn’t at least a duality, if not multiplicity. The only thing that can be pinned down as set and immovable (aside from having to check the door at least three times to make sure it’s locked and the certainty that <i>everything</i> in my apartment will be arranged by size and parallel alignment) is the Holy Quartet.
I do come across the occasional soul who comes… close. They say all the right things, and probably even manage to keep it up for awhile, but ultimately, something always slips. There’s always that disappointment over one of them.
Honesty. Loyalty. Morality. Integrity.
I don’t know a single person who hasn’t let me down on at least one of those principles, and it’s very, very hard to slip on just one once you’ve gotten started. The ones that take the longest to disappoint me hurt the most. I expect the disappointment. I can deal with that. Losing the brief illusion that I do indeed have a tribe – even a tribe of two – gets harder every time. Harder to get up and keep going. Harder to hold onto myself. Harder to keep what’s sacred sacred. After all, if there are no believers left, how long do you hold the temple doors?
No, that’s not a metaphor. ;)
There isn’t a word for what I’m looking for, but I would like to find someone who says what they believe, and means what they say. Who has the self-awareness to acknowledge the lies they tell themselves, the lies they tell others, and the courage to admit to both. Who knows that without the Holy Quartet, everything is nothing.
Just one person, so I don’t have to be the only one.
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