epiphany

I went to all-state this week. There are a lot of details I could elaborate on that don't matter. I chose to take a drug to get through the auditions. I got seventh chair out of fifteen, about what I wanted. The concert went well except I played through a rest and got an unintentional solo. I got to see Brad, my friend from Billings. I ate a lot the first day and not as much the second day. I felt like an emotional spiral, churning through space. Erin spent the whole time flirting with Carson, and that was really cute. Shauna decided to act out something with her boyfriend and sort of mindlessly grabbed my crotch, and that wasn't as cute but I still love Shauna. Siobhan said something really nice to me. I rode the bus home last night and slept until 1:30 p.m. today, and although that was xanax induced it's the most I've slept in years. I missed math thursday and friday and now I'm confused.
On and on with details.

They don't matter. What matters is this: Erin was in a hugging mood. Shauna's always been the only one that's touched me. For years before, no one did because I'm extremely unresponsive to touch for obvious reasons. On the way back from Missoula after we dropped Carson off so it was just Erin and I, I sat with her in the seat. It was 1:20 a.m. The stars were very hard and bright. I was so tired, so emotionally exhausted, and my touch barrior had been barraged with hugs from my best friends (Erin, Shauna, Jill, Siobhan, Brad, etc) so I laid my head on Erin's shoulder.

Let me explain myself. There is always a tension in me when it comes to touch. It is a tight, hard feeling in the deep parts of my chest. It went away once last May when I fell into Josh on the couch the night before prom, and it has gone away in some of my most despairing hours when I have sobbed in my mother's lap (also last May, after Josh OD'd). But nearly always, nealry all the time, it is there, impeding my breathing, impeding my life. It makes me stand stiffly when people hug me. It makes me confused about someone grabbing my hand. It makes me detatched when I am kissed. However, when it leaves me for an instant it is a fantastic whoosing, and all of the tension inside of me is gone and I suddenly realize what it could be like, how wonderful it could be like, to live without it.

It is only with poeple I trust absolutely when it comes to touch.

Last night I was tired enough, worn down enough, confused enough that for a few minutes I was tense as my head lay on Erin's shoulder, but then in a very perceptible moment all of the fear, all of the tension, all of the mistrust dissolved. All of the heaviness inside of me was replaced with a light feeling. It is the most amazing feeling in the world. More amazing than any sexual feeling, more amazing than lime popsicles, more amazing than watching Finding Nemo and sobbing.

Today I read the end of Siddhartha and in a hugely epiphanic moment the loose ends all came together. I don't even know how to explain it. The book said, "perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find." When I read that I suddenly understood. I have been searching for truth, tirelessly, inexorably plowing linearly through philosophy and religion and everything. But the truth is me. The truth is the world. It's not about tomorrow, or yesterday. Those don't exist. It's about today.
People view time as contour lines, but that's wrong. Time is the three-dimensional integration of contour lines. Life is everything; life is yesterday, life is today, life is tomorrow. Truth is pain and joy. Truth isn't something you find, it's something you are. You breathe truth. You live it. You find it in love, you find it in hate, you find it in fear, you find it in that moment when all of the tension melts away.

I understand.