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We fell asleep on the couch together after dinner. :) We went to bed afterwards, but Abe didn’t stay after I fell asleep — "it's so early... eh, maybe I'll have someone over." :) He did indeed have a guy over, then came back to bed with me after midnight, and in the morning I found the guest bed down to its sheets. If déjà vu is an echo from outside of time, this felt like déjà vu of déjà vu. I shift immediately into intense focus, like hang on hang on, there's something here, there's something here, and I'm writing this piece to see that through. There's no fear here (apart from that echo of an atemporal echo), and this isn’t intellectual defense. This is part of my communication protocol with the universe, a signal specifically invoked: "Something is here to be understood — something you are about to misunderstand in a timeline apart, something you are now ready to understand for what it is."
I know this feeling. I trust this feeling. We go way back.
Fact: when Abe says "Liz", he means something different than when I say "Liz". I wondered what I was missing, the other day, when we were comparing notes re: Liz, a discussion in which I felt an intense energy-knot in the direct vicinity of that comparison. Those things can always be loosened and released in the now. And that was it, the piece of the knot's undoing that had to come first: I was missing that there were two different referents in play.
What one someone-else does with a second someone-else is alien to your relationship with the second someone-else. It's not just different or unrelated — it is in an orthogonal realm.
What Abe does with men is alien to what I do with men, because "men" as accessed by Abe is a distinct entity from "men" as accessed by me.
Abe is trusting his weight to his personal social-sexual autonomy, trusting his balance, discovering that he can walk. I'm autistic; personal social autonomy is an area where I have a permanent* disability. I can access personal sexual autonomy when it doesn't require personal social autonomy. Give me a social crutch and let's fuck.
(*For clarity, and not to siderail this exploration, I do mean "permanent as of this now". Permanence is a mechanism in now-time/no-time, and it can move.)
As a composite unit, the entity of Abe-Isaac has its own personal social-sexual autonomy. We move freely in all dimensions. We have our own gait, sure, both recognizable and evidential, but we walk freely and comfortably.
I can access personal sexual autonomy within the social-sexual stroll of Abe-Isaac. Effectively, this means bending down (haha) whenever I want to examine the flowers and pebbles and grasses as we walk, pausing our joint perambulation to get into something special with something I notice in my immediate field. Beingness nests, and affordance is not always lateral. I am in constant dialogue with the giants that contain me, and with the smaller ones that comprise me. We help each other, and we coordinate while locking eyes.
Precise use of Occam's razor requires clear, continuous understanding of what it is you're actually seeking to explain simply.
Abe is not getting mine out of this. Abe is getting his. What he is getting is not comparable to what I am getting. Even if what he gets and what I get leave the same signature on the bedsheets. Different referents. Different referents. The sight is not the story.
This is gently pushing up against a stiffer section of my perceptual-interpretive limbs. This writing is me rolling it out, separating the fascia of my perception from the muscle of my interpretation. It isn't pleasant. The process seems to demand intense focus. I am not done. Somewhere between the autism and just me being me, my primary skill is in seeing without compulsively telling. Sight and story are independent variables, in my personal cosmology, but my incarnate apparatus appears to have some specific stuckness in this particular subject area. I am rolling it out, rolling it out, rolling it out.
Showed this to Abe when he woke up. I cried, hard, for a while. Somatic integration. Committing this to the physical record of my body. Putting it somewhere that'll remember me. Clean tears. This does cost water, and I spend it gratefully.
Abe just wrote this:
Falling more in love with myself and isaac and life and possibility and romance, it feels like. What a time to be alive. ❤️
When you add logic to romance - the possibilities are endless. Trust me.
Thanks for following along, and for being a part of it. x
What if it all works out?
this feels analogous to pushing a new branch to github and having its response include a bespoke pull request link
like my experience of world is acknowledging the transaction, completing it, and is pointing ahead
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