I can't believe I haven't gone private sooner.So what if I lost readers; what, do I want to be some Julia Allison Internet-famous asshole who thinks they're better than they are? Well...admittedly, kind of. But the point is that I feel a little more free to be me. I'm still nervous to write about the Reason I Moved My Blog, but if you're able to see this, you know what that's all about anyway. Still, I kind of see this as a forum for me to vent and explore my feelings about things, have a conversation with myself without people staring and all, so it's kind of annoying.
Anyway here's me, letting my hair down:
I was watching Moulin Rouge the other day with Heartwarmer and it made me cry. I remember the day I saw that movie clear as a bell: my friend The Dealer came to my room that morning, pounded on my door to wake me up, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You have to come with me now." He took me to the theater, bought my ticket and sat me down for the matinee. It was amazing. I was amazed. From the first moment the Fox theme began playing my heart just...soared.
The Dealer was a great friend to me. I was absolutely in love with him, the way I'm in love with Helicopter and Southern Belle. There was never an intense physical attraction, but there was a mutual understanding of ideals that I've only shared with a couple people in my life. We never had sex or even kissed or anything, but we were very affectionate with one another: we'd hold hands when nobody was around, he'd play me songs just because "it made me think of you," I'd bring him little gifts and help him out around his house and occasionally nap in his bed with him. Once I woke up from a nap and we lay there staring at each other for a long time - for hours - not really talking, just staring. And it was strange and special. I've never been so at ease with a man (except maybe my grandpa) before or since. I always feel like they want something from me.
Anyway, Helicopter and Belle understand my ideals, but they don't share them. The Dealer shared them unlike nobody else. It's a total cliche, but seeing Moulin Rouge the first time was one of those moments when you see yourself and everything you believe in reflected in a piece of art and it was amazing to look over at him and see the same awe and enthusiasm.
It's cheesy. It's so cheesy that I put up walls around it so nobody will recognize me for the ridiculous romantic that I am. But I believe in freedom, beauty, truth and love above all things.
Someone told me I have a "rabid, obsessive capacity for love." I think that's true. Lately I've been feeling like I'm generating an overflow of love, like my heart is creating it faster than I can exhaust it, and the only way to stop myself from overflowing is to find someone who will let me give it all to them. I thought maybe Thinky Face... But that was an erroneous hope. Luckily she's not angry about me being nasty to her dude-who-is-not-her-boyfriend but things were definitely different when I saw her in class the other day. She said she was just tired, but I don't know if that's all.
