It Feels Like I Need to Install a Freight Elevator.

I have a very distinct memory to share with you. I remember sitting in the office of the school nurse when I was in third grade (although I don't remember why I was there), and considering my family's upcoming trip to Disneyland. I knew that Disneyland was a big deal, and that I should be terribly excited. My siblings were positively purple with anticipation, but I calmly thought to myself, "There's no point in saying, 'I can't wait to go to Disneyland.' Clearly, I can wait and shall wait, and whatever fun I have while I'm there will be the fun I have." This may seem remarkably zen for a nine year old, but I think that in reality the experience was simply too big; it didn't fit through the door of my consciousness. I only bring it up because I have had that experience a lot lately. Huge things have happened to me recently, not the least of which is the sudden appearance of an eligible man in my life. I should be ecstatic, gleefully and tritely floating on air, etc., but the moment is too big. Perhaps, gentle reader, you've tried to dunk a big cookie in a glass of milk, but had to let it absorb a bit of milk and soften before you could really get it in. That's how it seems: like the feelings are wedged in the doorway of my consciousness, and I can't experience them fully until I get them in.

Perhaps it would be a good time to let someone in, though. Do you remember what it was like when you went through puberty and had growing pains? The awkwardness, the feeling of being a visitor in your own body? I feel like I'm going through metaphorical growing pains right now. I reach for thoughts and misjudge the distance, knocking them over and spilling them. I feel bigger, and I'm becoming cramped for room. Perhaps the best time to let somebody into my inner rooms is when I'm on the move, and I haven't yet unpacked all the thoughts and memories. That way it won't matter that he comes in and moves everything around. But what if he starts leaving things behind in my consciousness as an excuse to return? What if he brings luggage?