The Dialectic of Love

Most people can be approximately understood merely as a moment, a sum of their desires and capabilities. But to me, the moment of your existence in unexplainable. The contradictions superabound. 

    You are highly driven but generous in your patience to others;

    You are beautiful but carry yourself humbly;

    You are stoic within yourself but empathic to others' emotions;

    You are never cruel in your personal life but predate on rhetorical weakness with a fearful vigor;

The essence of your existence is a contradiction on itself.

But you exist! You stand there and say "I am K, I am here!" So every time I see you, this person who's existence in this particular moment contradicts my understanding of what a human being's essence can be, my entire reality, my understanding of human nature is contradicted. The character of your essence, then, must profoundly transcend any particular moment of your existence as K. 

The many strange and wonderful ways you act are not truly contradictions of each other but are instead all facets of the true content, the movement which defines the entire arc of your life! Where did you come from? Where are you going? What possible movement could engender the development of a character so impossible? 

    The movement that orders your life, K, what possible process could have produced it? This is the question I would like to answer. In defining the movement I could understand the content. 

And if I were ever able to grasp the fullness of your existence, I feel my life would be transformed. My understanding of the possibilities within human nature would be so expanded, that my conception of myself and my ability to control the character of my conscious existence in interaction with the modern world around me would be so transformed as to alter the course of my own life movement. 

I see within your life a kind of novel inner peace; where the tension between active life and spiritual safety is transcended. In you I see the unity between the security of standing still and the bliss of moving forward, between the pallor of death and the ardor of life

Is it something in the water out in Gothem?

SEE YOU SPACE COWBOY...

K's Saga.

She was beautiful, and free, and exotic.

She was trans yet passed so elegantly.

    She confided in me many joys: the men she slept with, her love of nerf, her mastery of Sidechat, and her sense of humor that was at once raucous and vulnerable. Through her jokes I learned about her experience being, her attitudes to her future and how she saw herself in the world. 

    Maybe I overstate our connection. Her life was an open book to anyone who wanted to listen. By the end she had shared many things with me – life and death, her kiss, even her naked form. The only thing which she never shared was her birth name. I suppose I could reverse engineer it now, not that it matters. 

    It wouldn't be inaccurate to call her an exhibitionist. On a morning of a day in late September, she announces on the Discord server that she is hospitalized for attempted suicide. The previous night she has attempted to jump. Her english teacher reports her, after she sends a note acknowledging the true reason of her absence. 

    Visiting K in the hospital that day was a profound experience. It was simple; rarely in our life are we able to help somebody so directly and so significantly by just showing up. I went to Cambridge General with the clothes on my back, a Siddur with Mi Shebeirach scrawled into the back pages, and a bouquet of flowers hastily acquired from a sympathetic Cambridge Florist. 

    I remember seeing her on that bed. She was so pale. Her voice was weak, but her wit was still sharp – the hospital room was a "double single." She listened as I said the prayer; her hand felt boney and cold in mine. I asked the questions of a stranger: about the ordeal of hospitalization, her physical wellbeing, her immediate plans for the future. I did not dare ask her how or why she had attempted.