big fish

i took calvin to see big fish this afternoon. so, now, i think both of us are feeling a little pensive. the stories touch you.. the intermingling of lives and emotion; of lies and truths. i don't know how to say it without sounding trite, but i really loved it. actually, i had some trouble not crying after. i could, i suppose, have just let it out, but didn't really want to.

as we were stepping out of the theatre calvin turned to me and said "mom, can i do that? can i just invent my reality the way he does?". my response was the only one i can give - we all invent and reinvent our realities. the more we believe in them the more like truth they become. it is through our stories that we achieve immortality. shakespeaere knew this.

so what, then, is my story? what is my mythology? that's hard to say from inside of it. characters in books don't know that they are just playing a role. i have the self awareness - i just am not sure which role i am playing. i hide behind my outgoing party girl facade as a means of masking the real me. if you don't know who i am then you can't hurt me in any way, right? but who, then, am i really hurting but myself if i don't let people get to know me? i seem to only choose people who are destined to hurt me, and let them into my world (rori, for example). this just reinforces my resolve to keep people out. but that's not really what i want. i miss sunday mornings, and waking up with someone. nick spent the entire night wrapped around me and i luxuriated in the contact like a cat in a sunbeam. so what story am i in?