A friend of mine recently found a woman who is making him very happy. They share a pretty solid interest in something, and they have been getting along quite well since they met. He's pretty happy, though part of it is that his life seems to be having a lot of good things happening after quite a spell of not-so-good things.
I'm quite happy for him.
I'm also exploring myself for the tiniest bit of jealousy. And it's there, this tiny kernel, so small as to be almost insignificant. It's not really so much jealousy as perhaps envy.
I do not begrudge him his relationship at all. I think he is deserving of finding someone that he is compatible with, and someone that can bring out the happiness inside of him.
His ideal woman is not my ideal woman. She is perfectly fine, but she isn't who I would consider as a life-partner.
No, the feeling is a little bit of envy. Envy at having found someone who is compatible, who enjoys the same things as you do and is passionate about them instead of just tolerating them.
And it's small. Tiny. Almost insignificant.
Today I am very nearly at peace with the world. I still struggle with my own internal demons, but it is merely a matter of time-- they are defeated, they know it, but they just can't give up the struggle because it is what they do. It is what they are. To give up would be to cease to exist.
I still struggle with what I would like in a relationship. The watchword of the past week or so has been acceptance and joy as opposed to tolerance.
My friend has told me that there are a lot of hot little freaks out there who are into body parts and horror movies and who would really dig having a house full of skeletons, cadavers, skulls and tombstones. I told him I want names and numbers.
But consider the title of freaks. Am I in that category?
And I have to think that indeed I am.
At any given time, I have several skeletons, many many skulls, various monster heads, hands, arms, feet, brains, a jar full of eyeballs, various tombstones. I may pick up a casket or two. I designed the shed to double as a mausoleum. I sometimes drive around with a corpse buckled into my passenger seat, and I find it amusing. I am skilled in the art of creating "lifelike" decayed corpses.
These are not the things that you find on Martha Stewart.
I am a freak. And a geek.
And I'm okay with that.
On one hand, it kind of limits my dating pool. On the other, it makes the available options so much more interesting.
The problem is how to meet the "hot little freaks".
The thought strikes me that I should consider hosting a corpsemaking workshop. There would have to be a lab fee to cover materials, probably around $100.00, and it would take several hours and be really messy and fun. And you'd get to bring home your very own life-size (death-size?) corpse.
Or I could do a zombie-head workshop which would take less time and be less expensive-- probably around $25.00. Still pretty messy and fun.
And making tombstones. And welding. And lots of fun stuff.
Things to consider for next year.