Amidst

“Sensual love blinds us to heavenly love; by itself it could not do so, but since it contains the element of heavenly love unconsciously within it, it can.”

I always remembered this phrase, which he showed me when we had lunch at that Mediterranean restaurant in Chapel Hill. We were friends, in between stages of being lovers. There was a red flower placed in a small vase in the middle of the table. We were talking about literature and philosophy, as we did sometimes. The hair on his forearms looked so fine and soft.

I don’t remember what we said. The sight of his naked forearms and that confusing phrase are all that I remember. It was from a set of aphorisms in Kafka’s book The Great Wall of China. He lent it to me that day, and I never returned it.

Among the many aphorisms and quotes we’ve discussed this one stuck with me the most. It’s like a summary of our relationship. In fact of all romantic relationships, but especially this one. We, or I myself, reached so close to the other side that I could not possibly let it go and accept that all of it was just an illusion.

The night sky seen from the Sidgwick Site tonight was rosy red. Slices of pink silk spread over the sky, finer than the veins on a piece of fresh salmon.

Two years later I’m supposed to be wiser but I’m far from that. All the suffering and euphoria did not lead me anywhere. A kiss from a boy still left me quavering, agonizing what all this was about and which direction I should go.

I told that boy last night that I didn’t want to go further, because I didn’t want to be hurt. Because sensual love blinds us to heavenly love. Because I couldn’t like him, for the reason that I did already like him.

You expect one experience that once shook your soul would leave you wiser, help you change and become better, but that’s not the case. As humans we fall back into the same trap over and over again. I’m faced with the same contradictions. I lay in his arms, guarding my lips from another kiss and trying to tell him I’m full of contradictions. He said with a careless smile, welcome to the human race.

We paced outside the college gate as he smoked his cigarette, and threw to each other questions like what is liking someone, what is love, whether there is a separation between the body and the mind. All deep and shallow, old and new, going somewhere yet nowhere. Until we called it a night and kissed each other goodbye. Let me know, I said. Let me know what? I didn’t really know. Yeah, he replied, maybe we can get a beer or something. Yeah sure, I said, though what I was really thinking was, for what? Then there was no more.

Back in my room alone I found my body wanting to cry. It wanted to cry, to be sad, to be heard being sad. It wanted to be held. At some point it just wanted to be held. For no reason, no declaration or exclamation including the thing called love. Fuck love. The love of the mind. Tonight what the body remembered only was the feeling of not being held.

I wasn’t sure what I was crying for. The deep old pain or the fresh little agony. The human emotions and wants and fears are all too complicated to grasp. I knew myself best and least.

Dark swirls left to the dreams, then I started another day in almost perfect pretense.