At the Carnival
I see major change as a fun house. You step into a menagerie of twisted reality that only parallels the world outside. Altered views of self and those around you are the play mirrors, and the world as you know it shifts as the floorboards, mechanically under your feet. In the background, a bi-polar reel of maniacal music and laughter add to the confusion and chaos.
Trusty Boyfriend/Knight In Shining Armor and I have different desires and ways of dealing with the fun house. He tends towards excitement and every day there is a new way for him to point out the fact that major change is happening in our household. He seems more than content to play through the craziness again and again.
I see the change as something scary and unreal. I don’t want to get caught up in the experience for fear that I may somehow get lost in the maze, unable to find my way to the end of the ride.The shifting floors cause me to lose my balance, the mirrors distort my vision and the ever present melodies remind me of a horror movie. I live in terror of being forgotten or found shivering in a huddle at the end of the day, when the ride shuts down with the depression of my senses. It is for this reason I try to downplay the exhilaration. Although I know you cannot attend the carnival of life without visiting the funhouse, I would like for it (and the roller coaster) to be a single visit.
I battle everyday with the giddiness Trusty shows, eagerly doling out tickets to relive the thrill that I call mania. I try to belittle the facts, hoping that I can talk him out of a repeat performance for the day. What I don’t do is state flatly my reluctance to go on the ride, and I surely don’t give my reasons. Who wants to admit being afraid of the funhouse? I know it is natural for him to revel in recent accomplishments, and I love him, so I don’t want to demean him or his efforts. I just wish there was a way that he could enjoy the volatile atmosphere while I waited safely behind the gates of the entrance/exit sign.