Belly of the Whale

Chaos of the Mind -
reactions to a love story

This is such an exotic feeling for me.
I feel torn, curious, anxious—the suspense is almost more than I can bare.
What does she feel? What does she feel?

It seems so unfair. Here I am. My heart is here to read. I have no secrets or veils. Carmel could, and probably will, read this.
Why does she get to know my feelings while I have to remain in quandary? Life.

There is a sort of sick pleasure, like a suspense thriller. If, that is, we progress and learn and grow.
If it all fails it will utterly suck.
I guess my fear is that she, by knowing my heart, will somehow use it to game me, to make an orchestrated event out of our relationship instead of letting happen what will happen, letting it flow, having fun with it.

I don’t know.
Perhaps I am simply a child and need reassurance. But so much hasn’t been said and hasn’t been done.
Of course, we’ve only spent a few days together.
But why do I feel like we are so far beyond that?
Is this the cause of my doubts and concerns. Something is off, strange, unsettled. I feel like I am too open, too vulnerable, not really myself. I have moved too far forward, a place she hasn’t moved to yet.
Is it so?

Is there something unattractive about such brutal honesty? That is how I feel. My honesty is not masculine, not machismo. I could put up a better front, but that isn’t me.
Well, it is most of the time—I’m not normally so gushy and blubbery.
I’m just a damned romantic. I love intimacy. I fall easily.

Is she wise to protect herself? Am I dangerous this way?
But I still love all those I have loved. I have been true and honest and sincere.


Thinking about this writing I’m putting down, I have to laugh at the shift in my life.
I used to write about sails and plans and books.
Now I am writing about my emotional confusion, delightful and torturous though it is.

Is this boring to read?
I guess that isn’t my problem: “I don’t choose the news, I just print it.” Indeed. But these are my two worlds. I hope I bring them together. I hope I don’t fall flat.
I am so shy to sound optimistic due to the threat of jinxing myself.
Remember my partner I had lined up? I didn’t even name who it was for fear of jinxing it—and it still feel through.
Everything falls through it seems.
Life here, for me, is often all about endurance. What can I bare? You work on something, then it breaks. Then you fix it, but it’s wrong, so you have to do it over. My plans are the same way. From one to the next. I can never get to attached.
Is this the same?
Is this only another step toward a goal, another step that might crack and crumble, another failed attempt that only moves the time and my experience.
What am I learning?

I can’t let go of this one I don’t think. I don’t want to.
You don’t love your dinghy, but we love people.
Carmel is spectacular. She is special and I know it.

But does she feel it? I am petrified by the word “friend” which I heard her use today. Can I really be this insecure?? Amazing how love changes you, brings out your fears and doubts.
Am I not so strong as I think myself, or does it just sound particularly bad on the written page?
Who am I to her?
Am I comfort, a friend, comic relief, a crutch, a distraction—or is it more?
Does she want what I want?


It really isn’t fair that Carmel can read this. What will she think?? I am not going to stop writing for the sake of non-disclosure.
I’m not even sure what I am disclosing. Chaos of the mind.


So Carmel, what are you gonna do with it??
Get to know me, love me and come to the Pacific. Says I.