Arguing for Peace
He's so argumentative, yet we have ongoing peace.
I simply do not argue with him.
They say it takes two to tango, but we never want to hear that in the middle of a dance, right as we're about to hit the break.
These arguments are compelling performances. I could dance back and show my superior artistry, but that's not what I'm here for anymore.
Tango takes too much out of me, beautiful, technical, yet unsustainable; I'm dancing a slower dance. It could barely even be called refusing a lead, I'm simply dancing my dance.
His arguments fall into a depth of silence and reflection, bottomless, empty. There is nothing for them to catch on, so time and time again, we arrive immediately to the heart of the matter—we desire to be connected.
He argues, and I simply look at him, quietly loving him here and now. He rejoins so quickly! The mask so false, so easily abandoned.
It's curious to me, that the mask is even there. I could easily resent it and be so right, "he should NOT be bringing that here." But fuck, it is SO CUTE!
Sadly, also, I know he has a good reason for doing it. I can only grieve what he's experienced, the thing he's trying to get ahead of, my complaints, demands, criticisms. He is arguing with ghosts, and I can't take it personally, I can only grieve and love him, demonstrate what is solid.
We desire to be connected. Hello! I'm here. I am here ONLY to love you. It may take some getting used to.
