the stone gods {fin.}

'loneliness isn't about being by yourself. that's fine, right and good, desirable
in many ways. loneliness is about finding a landing-place, or not, and
knowing that, whatever you do, you can go back there. the opposite of loneliness
isn't company, it's a return. a place to return.'


.......................................


'billie,' said spike, 'why are you crying?'
'because it's hopeless, because we're hopeless, the whole stupid fucking human race.'
'is that why you are crying?'
'and because i wish there was a landing-place that wasn't always being torn up.'
'is that why you are crying?'
'and because i feel inadequate.'
'there's a story about a princess whose tears turned to diamonds.'
'i'm not a princess and my tears are tears like everyone else's.'
'but they are not everyone else's, billie. they are your tears.'

i read the last third of the book tonight soaking in my tub and these were the two passages i drew my scribbly curlicues around. they stood out the most in my mind.

and this was a perfect night to be gifted such eloquence on these two topics as they are such loud and colorful themes for me right now. i thought i had been given my fair share of loss this year, but these things come in three, no? my game of housing limbo is not yet resolved and i'm simply trying to stave off any anxiety (hopefully throughout the whole process) and grief (at least until it's confirmed).

i love winterson's paradigm of loneliness/landing-place. it's a lovely yin and yang and something i felt last night in a houseparty with no room to move, much less breathe or converse with people. and in that mosh of bodies and costumes i felt really lonely and tired and all i wanted was to go home. to my perfectly arranged landing-place with quiet and a sense of purpose.

and the second quote sums up tonight just perfectly. i am finding that there are many layers to grief. and a few hours ago, parked outside a friend's house, i sat for the first time since radiohead in a tightly reined emotional state where i only let myself feel a specifically controlled amount of joy as a way to control how much disappointment i experience. they have a directly proportionate relationship, so if i keep one under wraps, the other will also stay quiet. the trouble is, i want to celebrate with her. i want to get all girly and excited for the direction her life is moving, but i can't go there without stirring the mulch underneath.

it was a futile effort to hold things in because even just acknowledging the battle of conflicting emotional desires was enough to blow the lid on the whole thing, and i sat in the dash light outside her house and gave voice to the last layer of demons i have been trying to sweep under the rug. but they have persisted till suddenly i am admitting that i don't know who i despise more, him for leading me there or myself for having the audacity to believe i deserved what he freely offered. how dare i believe the universe has manifested something that perfect and in such a magical way? how. dare. i.

and yes, they aren't diamonds or even anybody else's tears {most especially his} but they are mine, and they were held by my friend with a grace and gentleness i cannot entirely fathom.

currently listening to: nothing. turned my car off on the drive home from her house and find i still need to maintain the silence a little longer.

passages from the stone gods by jeanette winterson