Perpetually Separate

The thing about being totally physically, sensually oriented is that no matter how close you get to someone, pressing your body desperately against theirs even, you're always alone.  The "me" that is understood when I say "My body" can not be touched by the hand of another.  A lovely tune, a harmonious chord, the smell of flowers or fresh rain... these things can touch me, move me to tears, bring a genuine smile to my lips.  But there's no companionship with a sheet of music; it's the musician's effort to let their emotions free that shakes me.  Can you ever really know if someone feels the same way as you?  Maybe some can reach that understanding through language or a look... but for me, blindly feeling my way around the world, it seems impossible.  Can two people ever really connect?

People say that flowers are delicate.  But I've watched them sprout and grow tall and stand alone solidly, beautifully their whole lives.  Are they weak because a human can so easily crush and ruin them?  Perhaps we're all the weaker for being unable to handle them without soiling them.  There are lots of kinds of strength, after all.  I get to thinking about how society has shaped our ideas of things, completely really...  This muscular man is strong, because that's what you've always been told strength is.  Then your own experiences expand on your understanding and create slight differences in each person's perception of the term.  But uniformity seems to be generally desirable.  And for despising it and being jealous of those who have it or pretend to or somehow fit in with the masses--!  I am different. 

And I'm glad, and I'm sad.