First of all, whether or not I still love him, and whether or not he's healed from Votania, and whether or not he's harboring a secret crush on me that even he doesn't know about, we've got a special kind of friendship. He's the sort of friend who makes the world better by cracking a weird joke that wouldn't be funny unless it was the two of you, and then you burst out laughing -- or not.
There was a lot of "or not" this afternoon.
It's entirely odd. Around him I feel that a quiet smile is sufficient to take care of quite a few things. When the environment's noisy, I laugh louder, but when it's just him with me, and no one listening, I can be as quiet as I want to.
My soul thrives on silence.
Votania's a dear and a sweetie, but when she and I are together, there's almost always noise going on. We're almost always having an exchange of information of some sort or other, a debate, a lively conversation about the day's events, with equal give and take. This is all well and good much of the time -- but some of the time I need companionship where I don't have to talk back.
Whenever I'm with Darkside, it feels as if he's doing almost all of the talking. I like this, with him, because he'll listen to me when I have something to say, and he'll let me be quiet without badgering me to tell him what's wrong. If there's something wrong and he knows it, he'll pull it out from me, but he does it expertly, gently, without tearing me in the process.
I like to talk. I like to share my feelings, experiences, ideas, with the world at large, have some intellectual exchange, make the world a better place, share some laugher, joy; make a hurt lessened by sharing. Almost always when I talk, though, there's a hidden cost -- am I trying too hard to be funny? Am I looking for social points to score? Do I tell tales to someone's cost? When I speak to the world, I know I'm speaking, and I become on -- the world's a stage, and my life's a comedy. Flip back and start reading from page one, because some of the in-jokes don't make sense otherwise.
With Darkside --
--it's not a sense of being onstage. I've performed all my skits for him before, and I test out each new one on him before I play it to the public in general. (I have that in common with Shawn -- I play to my audience -- I always have a funny or otherwise anecdote to share, and I've got it scripted for maximum impact. I always had the gift for writing lines, and Shawn had the timing and delivery -- I'd write some of his best off-the-cuff material, scripted to his style, and he'd fire it off like a pro. We could have made it, together, like that -- if only his life hadn't been the stand-up comedy, and the ground he walked hadn't been the stage.) With Darkside, he already knows the surface layer so well that he sees beyond it, and he knows the inside of my mind so well that he's able to allow me to speak it, and to speak some of my undermind too.
He doesn't know everything inside my mind. He doesn't know all of my tastes in music, nor everything that makes me tick, but he's seen me tired, he's seen me ecstatic, he's seen me scared and shaken and grieving and shaking, he's seen me drained and exhausted, he's seen me apprehensive, infuriated... he's seen me cut deep with a careless word or three ... he's seen me in nearly every emotion I am capable of feeling, and he knows most of them by sight, sound, touch. He doesn't always know why I feel what I do, but he knows what I'm feeling, and will figure out what I'm thinking.
He gets homesick too. I'd never thought of how he could do that... you have to have a home to get homesick for ... but he does.
I want to spend another few hours alone with him, just us, the road, and the radio, and let the quiet moments come.
I think we both need them.