The Blue-Eyed Portals

...they left no room for the rising waters that were an emotional rip-tide of a volcanic eruption. Playing host to all that I had stuffed and squandered on the act of being strong; the white elephant in the room appeared much too fast for my beleaguered response.

She said this would happen. She said that it would be stuffed for a while, and that depending on the presenting pride, that "while" could take far longer than what the psychological community would consider as "normal".

Apparently, my presenting pride did its very best of a job and stuffed for a good, long time.

Until the weekend approached.

An unexacting time frame and there I was: rendered somewhat helpless and as unsuspecting as the rest of the mini subculture that watched in awe. And this was no awe like, "wow, what a cute kitten" awe, but rather -- "holy crap, what's her deal?" awe.

Train. Wreck. Awe.

Damn.

But...five hours and the company of the very best of friends later, and I composed myself enough to walk. At least enough to speak coherently. She said that it was "a breakthrough". I swore it was akin to "lame".
She swore this would be helpful.

I thought it a "moment" and one that I did not wish to replicate any time soon.

She said that it would get better from here on out. That all I need do is talk.

And you know..for as much as I do talk, for as much as I speak but don't say. I think that I can do this. Talk, I mean. Say what it is that I feel building. Maybe if I start small and unsuspecting it will present in more manageable portions that I can categorize.

...in bite-size pieces that won't choke me when I purge.