The Marie Curie of emotional discovery

Right now the scent of banana bread* is traveling from my oven to where I sit at my computer. A moment ago I listened to the quiet, deeply satisfying gurgle of hot water pouring from the kettle into my mug.

I’ve spent the evening alone and I’ve journeyed through a variety of states of being while doing so. Earlier tonight I felt restless, wishing it was warm summer night, one where I could meet a friend in Rittenhouse Square, get gelato at the new Capogiro at 20th and Sansom and wander around Barnes and Noble without the burden of a coat. I walked over to the Roxy to see the new Harry Potter movie and felt abnormally uncomfortable being there by myself.

I found myself wishing myself back three years in time, to when I was first falling in love with Ted, not because I wish I was still with him, but because I miss that rush of feeling, excitement and discovery you experience when you are learning a person. I almost called a couple inappropriate guys, all because I was uncomfortable being by myself, but stopped before I picked up the phone. I’ve chastised myself for not spending the evening writing, even if it was nothing more than a blog entry about my two nights of Thanksgiving meals with my vastly extending family. I’ve looked in the mirror and found my appearance lacking.

All that, and I’ve found the time to do my laundry too.

The crazy thing is that in spite of feeling all this tonight, all the emotions of discomfort, sadness, frustration, hopelessness, and futility, I’m still here and I’m still okay. That might sound like a really simplistic discovery, but for me, right now, it makes me feel like Marie Curie discovering radium. But enough profundity. I’m going to bed.

*Ma, don’t worry, I won’t be eating it. I’m taking it to church tomorrow.

0 thoughts on “The Marie Curie of emotional discovery

  1. Marisa

    Scott, I thought Harry Potter was fun. I seem to remember you saying that you haven’t read the books, right? You will probably like it better that way, because they had to change a few things to make the book work as a movie. Whether you can spare the time or not, well, how precious is your time, exactly?

  2. Katey Schultz

    i can really relate. it’s hard sometimes just to sit with the – well, lack of drama. and it’s easy to reach for the phone to try and create a little drama, too. sounds lik you’re in a good place though. sometimes poetry can come from that place – because it’s kind of a new noman’s land even though it’s actually a lot closer to *home* then we often let ourselves be.
    good luck.

  3. Luna

    I ended up going to the earlier show (but was originally going to the 7pm one). I bet if you had emailed we would have ended up at Capogiro ;-P

    Scott: hey, it’s better than having to walk all the way to UCity 🙂 I love the Roxy for being so close to me.

  4. Scott

    The only thing the Roxy has going for it is proximity.

    As for my time, it is very valuable indeed. Time is the fire in which we burn. Given that I’ll probably see Harry Potter sometime this week, if it is still at the Roxy. 🙂


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