I...I...
I broke my tiny set of rules again.
Not the "don't do this don't do that" immorality kinda rules.
And not the ramrod emotional corset kinda rules either.
I broke onuvthe Big Metaphorical Axioms. The kind that bind reality in a neat parcel tied with blood-encrusted string, the kind that put the freshly-dug-out-of-the-steaming-corpse lard to lube the Industrial Railroad Track that is the path I've been barrelling down.
But the tracks have split down the middle and the lats are wandering off into the air and my feet are arguing with each other, my elbows at angles with each other, for lack of anything better to do.
I'm delirious. (and everyone knows delirium spawned from Delight and it doesn't matter what colour your eyes are and my hair is as red today as any great comic book character)
I stood up to Marc. The most powerful influence in my life, the most Awe Inspiring Man t'ever grace the cobweb taughtness of my meanderings.
I stood up to Marc, met his Intimidating Quip and Fierce Glare with one of my own.
This, technically, is easy.
Technically, the vision of ferocious me with my fists on my hips growling and snarling will either topple you over in fits of giggles (at which point your eyes invariably close and then you're in BIG trouble and unlike that nasty HGTTG beast, if you can't see me, I can still see you) or will add a -3 curb bonus to your spine for a duration equal to your WILx2.
Technically, though, with anyone but Marc my tongue takes on magical item properties and splits into razorwire and steaming glass shards and You're In For A Pretty Good'un.
With Marc, ever since I met him and he permanently marked a musty corner of my brain as Reserved Memory Space, he has been The One.
The magnificent, Oh Captain My Captain, Greater-Than-Life, uberhuman, heroic, mystifying One.
My inspiration.
Anyone else I've ever met, no matter how talented or beautiful or otherwise daunting has never required more than a touch of arrogant humour or wry grins to crack just enough of the Crusty Exterior to make them Human.
Anyone else, over time, and considerably less time than six intense-enough-to-be-sixteen years, has turned out not only to be human but human to the point where irregardless of age, life adventure, anyfing - has just as much to learn from me as I from them.
Or somesuch.
Really, it's all just an attempt at justification.
Really, all this means, is that my caboose is loose because last night, stoned out of our proverbial seasonal squashes, stuffed to the aquatic respiratory devices with sate and stir fry and cold grapes and jellied things, sides aching from the combination of too much good food, fine peach wines, and the type of subsonic laughter that comes all too rarely to too many people -
When I found myself backed up to a sliding glass door on Eric's balcony, facing the already-furrowing brow of a Tarot Deck's Avatar, maybe Eric's mock locking of the door was the adrenaline gusher.
Maybe I was too stoned and Marc looked slower'n'usual.
Maybe the shock of Marc telling me he admired me not a handful of weeks ago finally sunk in. (Truth be told it hasn't left my conscious thoughts ever since)
Maybe I was ready, I dunno.
But in one of those inconsequential meeting of glares that cats do so well with walls - Marc looked away first.
And blushed. And had the audacity to look beaten.
That's IMPOSSIBLE.
And it's stupid and weird and my rational monstreness reminds me that I know very well that he's just one of the boys now and perfectly human, but...
It's as if The Logic Concepts they taught us in Some Random Math Class have suddenly decided to no longer apply.
Hours past my bed time, stranded west of the west island, surrounded by the boys that have slowly become The Most Phenomenal People In The World to me, I conquered my Last Symbolic Fear.
And I haven't had a cigarette today.
Y'know, maybe tommorrow I just might wear a dress.
Okay, okay, let's not get carried away here.
I'm just a little awed by the enormity of the universe today,
and doubly so by the discovery of how in love I am with it.