Intimacy

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Why do you have to cry? He asked me every time it happened.

It is the extreme version of an emotion. Overpowering. A cut is one thing, a death another. After hearing of the death of a loved one, most have an involuntary reaction to cry.

Crying may simply be a result of having held onto a feeling so long, it finally boiled over. A feeling so strong, it beat down the walls we held up against it.

I never cry. My mother is so freakin sensitive she cries during emotional commercials, gift giveaways on talk shows, the least character driven of shows, animals dying she has no association with… this list goes on. I would verbally disdain this a number of times growing up. Now I feel remorse for having done so. As I’ve grown older the more I recognize where her sensitivity stems from.

It’s interesting how we swing between wanting to feel things and wanting to ignore things. What do we want to feel and why? In our own body or with another. Why do we ignore things, deliberately or unintentionally.

He ask me why I cry because he has probably cried 3 times in his life, all at a funeral, and he doesn’t understand. He ask a genuine question, very literal, wondering why this conversation provokes tears? I wonder why he can’t deal with it?

A lot of men of his generation have no idea how to respond to emotion, period. I understand.

Unfortunately a lot of men in my generation are so jacked up on estrogen inducing soy products, the soy-feed helping produce everything we eat, they feel ALL THE FEELINGS. Yes, I believe this correlates.

So when I say I never cry, I mean I rarely cry comparative to most females. This is true. But I will confess I have cried in the way I use a cuss word in conversation, as a poignant adjective. I want you to know how serious this is. Really they are dragon tears. [meaning dry, if you’ve never heard this]

I think about the females in my life, and they’re mostly hard as nails too. None of us bullshit. I have very few of them frankly. I have always had more male friends, my entire life.

I’ve been thinking a lot about friends lately, how we share and what we don’t share. The levels of these friendships, how we inadvertently place people on tiers.

When I was 14 (I have every journal I’ve ever written in, so I know this as a fact) I wrote down:

Intimacy = Into Me You See

I’m sure this wasn’t original at the time. I believe I was clarifying for my ending prepubescence that intimacy and sex do not have to be related. Coincidentally or not, I was the last of all my female friends to lose my virginity.

Most adults know deep intimacy genuinely builds during the conversations after sex. Have you ever considered why?

And sex really is, and should be the result of an emotion. It doesn’t have to reach the boiling over point, but it also shouldn’t be just an itch you’re scratching.

 

This wasn’t the post I sat down to write. I’m sitting here staring at it wondering what the title should be. I just wanted to stick to posting on Sundays, regardless, and this is what came out.

 

 

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