And it's still true that when I'm with him, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, to degrees that I wasn't aware existed, before or since. He makes me light up like no one else.
But, the whole that is more than just the sum of the parts -- that is not me. That is not the whole that I aspire to be. As long as I feel that I am not complete in myself unless I am an active part of that sort of Whole -- then I am not complete in myself, and therefore not able to bring that Whole to what it can be. If that makes any sense. By requiring membership in that sort of bond, I limit the power of the bond that I can form.
I think this year is going to be yet another where I don't get to see half enough of him, but I think I'm the stronger for the experience in his absence. I've learned my weakness in grounding, much to my shame, while pondering how much I needed a hug, on the bus the other day. (Monday?)
It is a fallacy that each human is required to be be a member of a bond where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts in order to reach their full potential. It is possible that when each human becomes themselves to the full of their potential, that they open the possibility for all their bonds to be more than the sum of the parts. And probably the being of themselves to their greatest potential includes forming a bond to the fullest extent of the bond... 22s, caught for fun and profit. But the public focus is ever on the bond that is greater than the sum of the parts, rather than the work that goes beforehand to make such a bond possible. It's got the causuality reversed. Instead of 'In order to be a complete person, one must find true love' -- it's 'In order to find true love, one must first be a complete person.'
Or at least the possibility of being a complete person. From my experience with true love at first sight, I know the progression. I was able to deconstruct it, happily, because of the little Star Trek incident. It starts out as infatuation, and then it keeps getting built on, refined, validated, and never reaches a point where disillusionment kicks in and you realize "I never really loved them at all." You can have lust at first sight just as badly for some shithead, but the lust will fade, and the power of True Love is that it never really does die. Time is the only test of True Love, and the ability to last through anything. And that requires work from both parties. You can have a lifebond, a soulbond, but unless you keep it, unless you make it into what it's supposed to be, it won't be. If you've got amazing empathy for your partner, either you'll make it work, end up miserable, or cut the bond in some way, in which case of course it won't have been a "true" lifebond, in that it won't have lasted a lifetime.
I really do need to deconstruct the pyrogenic affair, and how it changed my views on love, later.
It starts out as infatuation, and you either think that's all there is, or you know that infatuation is not all that's needed. It gets deeper, builds friendship, trust, respect. Each stage, either the current stage is regarded as the pinnacle of the possiblity of love, and perfection, or else somewhat short of that. The requirement is not that it be immediately to the highest levels of trust and adoration, but that it be to the reasonable maximum for that stage in the relationship. Two years ago, I trusted Darkside and loved him, and knew that I loved him as I'd never loved anyone before. When I look back now at the enumerations of that trust and adoration, it pales in comparison with the rich and delightful intimacy that exists now. Yet, while it was current, it was the best I'd had.
It builds, it builds. And it's always the most, the best, I've ever felt.
I need him less for daily functionality. I am capable of more intensity thanks to that new independance of function; I feel the loss of the intensity more acutely in his absence. I still need him as much as I ever did, but for different reasons. More deeply, but not as often, in odder places.