For the past few weeks, I've been on heavy heavy Bjork rotation. Literally, her Homogenic album - which is one of my favorites.
If you've ever been in love (you have my condolences), then there are at least three tracks on that album that will speak to you, or the one you love(d). For me at least, that album in particular walks the history of my truest, fullest love. Ever the enigma, Bjork gives you the most unusual yet poetic lyrics you will ever experience. Many are distracted by the erractic techno meets strings in full symphonic delivery, or sometimes just the odd way in she sings/manuevers her words around it. Make no mistake about it, it is no easy listening, she makes you work to understand each and every expression she has to make. Perhaps, that is why I like her so much. That very description of her, sounds like love to me.
But this isn't a tribute to Bjork. No, this is a tribute to love. That monster. Specifically, my love. The one that never leaves me, but merey evolves as I do. I met him nearly seven years ago in the most unlikely of places. I studied him as best I could before I ever revealed myself. That's the sort of woman I was then. Hidden, behind fantasy and a love of words. I would have never expected I could charm him with anything else, so I used my words as the first and only hook. I had a crush. No expectation for more.
He heard me. From 2,500 miles away, amid his own hiding. He heard me. He took my words, and used them to weave his own tapestry. There was no arrogance in our writing. No jockeying for position or grandiose posturing. It was merely the freedom we offered each other to merely be our truest selves. He shamed himself with poor choices and previous years of departure from a civilized world. I shamed myself with excess weight and the my own solitude. We were both imprisoned emotionally. We seemed to inherantly understand what the other needed, and we offered it freely.
He was the first man to ever make me feel beautiful. Where it counts most, on the inside. He loved my sense of humor, enjoyed my long twisting emails that seemed to go on without end. He kept notes on my daydreams and encouraged me to express the things I never had been given audience to say. For each layer of myself I revealed, he did one too. And so over time, we shed layers until we reached the pulpy center. The place where all the nerves lie. Where the root of all love, pain, anger and fear reside.
all that no one sees
you see
what's inside of me
every nerve that hurts you heal
deep inside of me
- "Yoga," Homogenic
It would make sense in reotrospect that we would sabotage our evolution. It was after all, so much bigger then who we thought we were. I bloomed, he began to look at life through a wider, panoramic lens. Suddenly, there was a lot more to strive for - and we both credited each other for the growth. We thanked God for the blessing of each other. And then we began to wonder what anyone deep in the throes of total adoration would naturally wonder:
What if it doesn't work out? What if...I fuck it up?
Fundamental difference between men and women (at least most of the time) when this occurs, is what they do with the fear. Women, cling tighter. Men, work to wriggle themselves loose. Instead of trusting the sun above, we began to trust how hard the earth was below. Fear crept in. I suddenly began to wonder what would happen if he didn't find me so exotic and breathtaking anymore. He began to wonder what would happen if he wasn't able to meet the lofty goals he was creating in his mind to bring us on more "equal" footing. Like dogs, we picked up each other's scent, and that only raised the fear factor, exponentially. So I clung. And he strained to free himself.
I'm a whisper in water
Secret for you to hear
You are the one who grows distant
When I beckon you near
"Bachelorette," Homogenic
And so the elusive dance began. We would go astray, waves would crash us back together. It was always him stepping back and me wondering what went wrong. I told myself I wasn't pretty enough, sexy enough. He told me I deserved so much more than him. We'd become bipolar. Loving and intoxicated one moment, lost and lonely the next. Always unbelievable highs and crushing lows. Each time he would come back to me, the distance between us seemed larger.
Tired of the dance, I took the chance. Despite his carefully worded cautions against it, I moved to where he was. I stepped boldly into his space, and told him I had arrived. I've always been willful and stubborn that way. He wasn't ready, I would simply show him that he had to be. And that's when it all fell down.
I didn't want to exist in ambiguity anymore. It seemed, ambiguity was all he could offer. The more I pushed, the higher his wall became. I tried to squeeze my way through the bricks until he finally exclaimed,
"I can't give you what you want!"
He yelled. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice to me. It wasn't in anger. It was out of exhaustion. I had not been hearing him. Suddenly, I reflected on all the quiet ways he had tried to make me see. How many times he told me not to wait on him. To live my life. All the ways he asked me what it was I loved about him. He had never been sure of exactly what we were doing. And so I did what he asked me to do. I let go. I had to find my path, and walk it without him holding my hand.
You think you're denying me of something
Well I've got plenty
You're the one who's missing out
But you won't notice
'Til after five years
If you'll live that long
You'll wake up
All loveless."Five Years," Homogenic
What a metamorphosis solitude can bring. I was learning to love myself, without the mirror of his affirmation. I had to go through long endless nights of tears that promised never to stop. I went through spins, both figuratively and literally. I filled a journal in a years time. I met others, let them into my life as far as I could and learned to be the source of my own love.
For each man that crossed my path, I learned something new about myself. Something new. Something different. Ironically, each man gave me something new to love about "him." And so with each date, each dance, in my mind I would always land or nestle myself somewhere deep in memories of the love we had always shared. It hadn't gone anywhere. It lay dormant.
while you are away
my heart comes undone
slowly unravels
in a ball of yarn
the devil collects it
with a grin
our love
in a ball of yarn
"Unravel," Homogenic
I still loved him. And In his interactions with me, though distant - I knew he loved me too. And that no matter what the futures offers, will ever change. And so it comes around again. Because it never dies, it evolves.
There is something different in our interactions these days. There is something soft in his voice. Something assured and quiet. I don't rush in to try and sort out what it is for him. I don't try and fix whatever it was that was broken (if anything "broken" to begin with). Is he as beautiful to me now, as he ever was? Most assuredly. But I have taken him from his pedastal, with the understanding that we are all human. We are all carrying fears, experiences and thoughts that require we work things out the very best we can. And even when you are not loved in the way you thought you should be, you are still loved nonetheless.
I don't know what our future holds. But I do know that the love he offers me now, comes without hesitation...probably because it's not pulled from him. I do know now, that I am that warm, loving woman with the great sense of humor and pretty smile - whether he is with me, or not. We make each other laugh again, without awkward pauses or holding of breath. Our hugs are not full of fear or tension, but warm expressions of, "Hey, I really...miss. You." I've taken the training wheels off my bike, and I'm learning to enjoy the wind in my hair. He's put to rest the fears of perceived expectations, and is simply building his life according to what he wants, not what he feels he's required to do.
We're both respecting each other in a completely different sense. So no matter, all is full of love.
you'll be given love
you'll be taken care of
you'll be given love
you have to trust it
maybe not from the sources
you have poured yours
maybe not from the directions
you are staring at
trust your head around
it's all around you
all is full of love
all around you
"All is Full of Love," Homogenic
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