Taking the time to talk about time.

Time hit me twice yesterday.

The first in that I let my old triggers and fears hurt a friend. And in so doing, ended that friendship. At the moment, I have to believe that's permanent. I have to accept my mistake and move on. The problem was that he wasn't that person from the past, and in analysis, that person I perceived, probably wasn't the person he was.

From that pain, I had to see an aunt who was in town. I haven't seen her in seven years, and even than, only in the context of her family, which is crazy in the way that novels are written about. In the case of the older generation of the family, some already have been. When I was a child, we'd visit this aunt regularly, and in the context of her relationship with an abusive and violent husband, long divorced. My youth up to the age of 14, is piled of memories of fear and hostility for that world.

What I find instead is a dotty, not-unlike-my-mom professional woman on the cusp of retirement. She's funny, warm, and full of stories. We wander downtown, drink at the Walnut Room, have dinner at the Atwood (fulfilling at least 2 of my Burnham fantasies outright), and the hang out and talk. Just a happy, wonderful time.

This is not unlike the previous post. The universe isn't about me. So much more is going on. And because all that is going on, the people around me are in a constant state of change. I can't look at the selves 5, 10, or even 20 years ago and say that's who those people are. Because not only is it not true, I was perceiving them as the person I was back then as well, and I hope that I am different.