Whereas I change my personalities like I change my clothes and wake up every morning and make a conscious decision about who I want to be today, Dustin just is.
He’s emotional and sensitive –
but an example of what someone would become if nothing pierced that sensitivity, if no one attacked his emotion,
if he never stopped his own philosophizing because of some internalized shame of his thoughts.
I don’t know if that’s true –
I don’t know enough of his backstory to know what kind of personal attacks he’s endured – this is just what I imagine.
But regardless, I admire him.
I admire the place his essence comes from that does not wade through anxiety.
And, at the same time, I admire my own traits:
my darkness as the opposition to his levity, my inconsistency to his self-assuredness, my force to his absorption,
my blow to his cushioning.
I admire us both not for our similarities or differences, but for the space that allows us each to be that:
the same and different.
That space is special.
That space is socially constructed;
it’s been manufactured.
That space could close in or disappear.
But I love that space and want to preserve it.