Human communication is terribly inefficient. We formulate a thought, then translate it into a variety of representations (sounds, body movements, etc) that hopefully other human beings can interpret back into the original thought that we attempted to convey.
I know a little of what it must have been like to live in Soviet Russia. In the search for drugs that I'm technically not supposed to have, I have to find the language in which I can talk to people who are willing to give me what I want, all without that language being interpretable by the authorities we wish to avoid the retribution of. And that is nearly impossible, because we are all human; in order to create a language others can interpret, it will be interpretable by all, even those we do not wish would listen in.
And so it is with my crush. I try to convey how I feel directly to him, without that message being intercepted by others, any others, because anyone might talk and then out of nowhere the hammer may come down. The worst is when you're afraid that the person sitting across from you, whose attention you want, may also be a risk for passing your message on to the persecutors. But I'm thoroughly convinced by now that he would do no such thing. But the fact still remains, that in order for my message to remain private within a public setting, it must be subtle, so subtle that perhaps even he isn't getting it.
I mention that I trust him enough to tell him the truth. Well, almost. There are two reasons I don't, even though I have reasonable opportunity within a reasonable assurance of privacy to do so. One: this is a very inconvenient time to start such awkwardness. It is at the point where his opinion of me cannot be twisted by such information. It is imperative that whatever objectivity he still holds on my account remain intact. Two: I'm not very happy with myself, physically, at the moment. And I'm not one that has an unattainable vision for beauty. I know this because I've self-actualized before. But I've gained weight since then and I want to get back into a body that makes me happy before I initiate anything with someone I care about. Because it is an indelible truth that physical attraction is a large part of a healthy relationship, and I want to be as attractive as possible in the moment that I make myself known. Which is not now.
Yet, here's the interesting part. I may be picking up subtle signals from him. You know how I was saying that, in order to defend oneself against persecution, one's signal must be so subtle as to be nearly undetectable? Well, I think it's that nearly-undetectable signal that I'm sensing. Because, while he may trust me, he may not trust me enough to put his entire career at risk to be blatant. And from his point of view, he is much more vulnerable to the hands of persecution than I am. It is hard to say which of us has more to lose. So its reasonable to believe that he has begun doing what I've been doing for the past few months... sending incredibly low amplitude signals, on the hunch that perhaps something may come of it, but easy enough to claim as unintentional if ever questioned on the matter, because he doesn't quite trust me not to turn him in, and I cannot and do not blame him for covering his ass. And for the same reason, its also reasonable to believe that I am completely delusional, seeing what I want to see, and that these so-called "signals" really are just personal quirks and have no indication of personal attention whatsoever.
I wish, I so wish, that this matter could be just between him and me, not him and me and a prejudiced institution. And it is prejudice. Like saying that because some black people commit crimes, therefore all black people are a threat, they have put in writing that because other romances like ours have not worked out well, that we can be punished just for pursuing it. As far as I'm concerned, as long as we are consenting adults, it no one's fucking business.
I feel like a basic tenant of "the code", or human rights as some would call it, is being broken. Its the basis of post-traumatic stress disorder. Seeing fighting and death is not what drives men mad. It's seeing people do what you never thought a human being was capable, within their conscience, of doing. And when you no longer trust humans to follow these basic laws, your entire world shatters. Granted, I am not being subjugated to anything "traumatic", but the basic tenant, the lack of trust and the utter dismay at how low humanity can sink, hurts me. But the thought of my man saves me from that, in some sense, because I can at least believe within myself that he lives by the code, a code, hopefully my code.
Strangely enough though, in this moment, because of the reassuring "signals" I've gotten from him, I am less afraid of the institution than I was before. Because as long as we don't make out in public, the only two people involved are people who have already expressed, with decreasing subtlety, that we are loyal to one another, at least in the sense of friendship, and will not rat one another out. The last boundary, really, is whether or not he feels the same way I do, or if he simply doesn't see me that way. Which I could live with, so long as 1) it didn't make things awkward (which lets admit, it usually does) and 2) it doesn't throw my ass in the fire, which I'm now sure it won't. So really its just #1.
The only thing left in this country to us is (greater than lesser) freedom from censorship. I won't get started on porn and cussing. But I encourage everyone to read "A Handmaid's Tale", and tell me how that story is so very different from this one, in the sense of being afraid of even one's friends, the lawful oppression. I get that that dystopia is much worse but... really. The feeling of loneliness is already manifest in our modern lives.
I can't even tell my best friends about my feelings, because if they get worried about me, they might to do something, in the pursuit of helping me, that actually hurts him or me. Or they might say something to the wrong person, etc. I simply can't risk it. I've taken enough risk as it is with the little I have said. There's only one person now with enough information to do real damage, and I cannot say anything more to her on the matter, and this pains me. Love should be celebrated, shared. That's how we as social creatures operate. This new world order... will destroy us from the inside, until we go mad. And of course, its not like that's the intended effect. The people who instituted it think they're helping. Let me make my own goddamn mistakes, on the off-chance it might not be one. It's a risk I'm willing to take, even if you think its such a bad idea that you'd put everything irrelevant to the situation but crucial to my life at stake to prevent me from pursuing my happiness.
Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness... how far we have strayed from this, in so many, many ways. The last two are so untrue as to make the first trivial.
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