And so once again, as the dust settles, and my excuses and misdirections dissipate, I find myself once again with hands clasped firmly around my own neck. The same old question reasserts itself: am I, in fact, fit for human company? Inevitably there comes a point when the fragile connections I strive to build become, in my eyes, so many entangling webs. And I long to kick and struggle and rip and escape their confines, flying away with the sun at my back and the endless horizon ahead and nary a look behind.
For a little while. I will always long for your arms again. I can’t live with or without you. Catlike, I crave affection but on my own terms. Human contact is a drug to me: seductive, addictive, and easy to overdose on. A crowd transforms in an instant from a warm embrace into a clanging cage, full of senseless maddening echoes. Even your love is a tender trap: you would wrap me up in yourself, surround my like think blankets in winter. And I crawl willingly, eagerly into your cocoon – but cocoons are made to be escaped. Are you just the unlucky site of my metamorphosis? No, I won’t allow that. But bear with me; I am feral, nosing fearfully out of a long-silent wood. How can I explain to you the fear that your vision of oneness engenders? How to make you understand the way my feet pull me, almost of their own accord, out and away from you, from everyone?
Please forgive me for the blame and the aimless anger when I feel that tug, without realizing what it is that unnerves me. I tense up for a fight when all around me are friends. Distancing words drop like cold lead from my mouth and I scarcely notice or care – at the time. Like a man escaping an inferno, all I can think of is the cool air on my face and in my hair after I break free. I do not know if I was made for solitude. But years of it have worked their way into my blood and I can’t go without for long. When the need becomes acute, I long to drop everything and run. I hope you can understand. I hope you will always be waiting for me when I inevitably force my legs to slow, turn, and carry my prodigal heart home.