Conversations in Passing: The Person. Capital P.

I had great conversations this weekend. Some revolved around people that you think are your soulmates in your head, but would never openly say it. Only because of the impact they have on you. Another one is about love. I'll separate them like egg whites and yolk.

On That Person.

That Person, is a person you've messed with before, or someone you've always wanted. Someone just outside of your grasp. You want them, like real desire-want. Not lust-want. You want them like if they told you that to have them, you have to walk to Wisconsin, or climb Mulanje mountain, you'd seriously consider doing it. It's beyond physical. Someone who you have seen in all their glory, and lights and bad angles. Someone you can say you "Accept as they are". Someone who has pissed you off before, but when the dust settles, you're that bish from the "House of Flying Daggers" who's crying after killing her lover asking him why he "didn't move? Why didn't you dodge? You knew I didn't really want to kill you! I was just mad." Someone who makes you crazy from wanting them. That Person, if they even HINTED at interest in you... you'd immediately break up with whoever you're with. Like, drop of a hat DUMP. #Noexplanationnecessary.

Everyone has That Person.
Shit, I've been a victim of That Person.

It's interesting knowing your lovers' Person and it's not you. You know it, and they know it. They didn't intend for you to know it, but because you have a Person too - you know the signs and symptoms of a hopelessly-in-want situation. The only person who doesn't know they are that Person, is That Person.

This is when the separation of topics is like egg whites and yolks. This is the bit of white in the yolk and the bit of yolk in the white.

If you were with Your Person, 9 times out of 10 it wouldn't work. For some reason, Persons always come attached with a fucking airline amount of over-weight baggage. This is why this thing blends into soulmates. They've moved your spirit so irrevocably, you think you would still be with them with all the baggage, but you try it, and you FAIL. Nobody can be with their "perfect" person. It's too real. It's too jaw dropping. It's too RAW. No matter what anyone thinks, in reality, Every relationship needs a thick layer of fabrication to coat it to protect it from damage. THAT'S why marriage is hard. It's ALOT of pro-bono acting, and who has the energy?

Meeting and loving your Person will also be an indicator to how much you love someone else. It becomes your temperature gauge. You start saying things to yourself like, "I like you - but if insert name called me right now, would I still be sitting here?" The answer is usually "No." and you proceed in your #non-chalant-about-you ways because #I've-loved-harder and #you're-not-inspiring-me-to. You know when there are true contenders when you think that thought and the answer is Yes. That is when you know like you know the sky is blue and peas are green and chocolate is delicious that You Have Met Someone.

I've experienced a twist of this. I once watched my lover see their Person and react to them. React to them in the only way someone hopelessly-in-want can. By hanging their head, and never shutting up about them - especially to me.
Now, I have a sexual chemistry radar. I can sense sexual energy, I can feel it tingle my skin. I sensed this connection between them, that of course he denies. She's his Person, he's not hers. It was fascinating to witness. Since he's not my Person either. I just took notes. Ladies and Gentlemen, I did not blow my top. I empathized. But I did lose the little I had for him. And you know it's little when you witness with your own two eyeballs something as intense as unfulfilled-desire-that's-not-for-you in your own lovers eyes and you didn't lose a wink of sleep about it. You didn't even change a facebook status over it. You didn't even bother to break up. Yes indeed, you're still fake-frolicking in fields of Lilacs singing "The hiiiiilllls are allllliiive! With the sound of Muuuusiiiiic..."

Whereas, had your lover been your Person, you probably would have been so stabbed you would have ended the show with a dramatic exit to have your heart tended to by the Emergency Heart-Repair Service at the Heartbreak Hotel. Where you lie naked and Doctor Ambrose snaps on a rubber glove on his right hand and puts one finger in your anus, making your chest pop open like the hood of your car. Propping it open with a rib bone at a forty-five degree angle as he pokes around in your chest, and asks you when the last time you had it cleaned was, and you say, "Never." and Ambrose takes out a thin, long and sharp stainless steel instrument and tells you to think about your Person while he shoves it into your aorta. Through the pain you start seeing ghosts of everyone you've ever loved rising from the depths of your beating heart. The deeper he pushes the instrument into your aorta, the more Ghosts of Ex's rise from your heart, and at the end of it all. Ambrose tells you it's good you cleaned your heart, because the pain will go, but the heart is still broken. "Maybe it'll mend itself" He'll say, "Sometimes, they do."

And he'll set the rib bone back. He'll shake his head, won't say a word, and he'll leave.