Connection retention

Lately I have had a hard time with this. I have been an "inspiration" to other people and have touched their lives with what I'm going through and how I'm dealing with it. I can see it in their faces and how much they ask about me. For some reason I have a hard time retaining these moments and connections, relying on an accumulation of them to get me through.

I have not been able to make a connection from my vantage point in the tangible world during this ordeal. I am aware of people that care for me, and I need those people. However, for some reason I don't seem to stick to anyone in particular. When I am alone it can be a bit too much me and when I am around people the company seems more like a mass of noise and business.

I wonder if there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am just trying to protect myself. Whatever the case, I find myself looking at my address book pondering who to call to see if things will be any different. I call anyway because it is still better to talk to somebody, rather than myself. I just wish that I could be more invested in people sometimes because it seems like they are so invested in me. I don't like the inequality of it from my part.

It's been awhile since I've been over the moon about someone and I'm not talking just love. I mean being wowed and satisfied. That can come from anyone and isn't necessarily sexual. I think the closest I came to that was watching a film where Al Kooper, Mike Bloomfield, and Bob Dylan were in the studio recording "Like a Rolling Stone". That opening to that song is the feeling I long for when I desire someone. I get the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end with that song and to see the masters at work just inspired me to no end.

Maybe I look for things that can't be found--an Indiana Jones trip--that undeniable desire for unobtainable or rare goods. It keeps me entertained and alone, the kind of alone that you get at the edge of a sun-drenched hillside. You can't live there but it can feel good for a time. But I am getting tired being the caretaker of emotional antiquities, to be looked at only and not touched.

Maybe it is time to open up the case and let the risk of dirty hands spoil the preserved artifacts of heart and mind. Purity is useless unless shared which means letting contamination in. Or more purity. Either way, I'm doing things and meeting new people. My mother would be so proud.