The 'Rents have been looking for a new house to purchase. They've been shopping a whole lot. Which completely bores me. Even shopping for houses is boring to me. But, that's completely beside the point.

So, we saw one specific house today. I was lookin round. It's a nice place, and I'd love to live in that particular house, but it's a bit small for everything Mom and Dad are lookin for.

The point I'm trying to dance around is coming up. Don't worry. I'm going to cut through most of the pre-story hype. *grins* Trust me.

So, the point I'm really getting at... I was looking at this house. I like it. I wouldn't mind living there myself. But then I walk around the back and I find this hidey-hole type place. Something inside me just NEEDS this house now.

For the past two hours I've been thinking about the need I feel for this house.

====When I feel an emotion like that I have a.... wait... let me explain it this way. My emotion/logic sense works for me. I feel an emotion or emotional reaction, then (in most cases) I feel an almost instant logical cap. It's like having a picture on a page in a book.

I see the picture and instantainiously have an emotional feeling prompted by it. Within (most of the time) two seconds there is a logical over-lay that covers the picture, snaring the emotional feeling under it. THEN I automatically take the time to figure out, logically, what the emotional feeling means, why I felt it, what it is about the thing that prompted that feeling and so on.

It is a buffer, of sorts, which keeps me from physically/verbally reacting to an emotional impetus before having the chance to think about it. And, as I parenthetically stated previously, this method works in about 98% of the instances in my life. It is my natural reaction behavior.

Sometimes that natural reaction behavior doesn't kick in until after I have physically/verbally reacted, however. When I was in Dallas and had that night-mare that jerked me out of sleep... I didn't have that logic-cap thing working properly. That's why I was in a mild state of hysterics until I'd had the time to go outside, catch my breath and calm down.

It took about five minutes for the emotional reaction to be pulled under control and another five or so before my hands stopped shaking. The logical side, however, did retain control rather quickly, in my opinion.

That is a digressing way of explaining my own natural reaction-behavior. =====

So, for the past couple hours I've been analyzing my emotional reaction. I've been trying to figure out exactly what it is about this house that some part of me so desperately needs.

And, I think I finally have the answer. I'm not sure if this is it or not, but I think so... I think the need is a visceral reaction... a "body memory" of sorts. I liked the house before I looked around at it, but after I looked around, I saw that when you go round back, there's this area under the porch in the front that's almost completely enclosed.

It's dark and low, maybe five feet clearance. It's the space under the porch/deck which completely surrounds the house. There's a floor of sand/dirt. Completely solid walls on two sides, comprised by the house on one side, and the new board fence style..... thing. I guess you could call it skirting. I just don't know the proper architecture vocabulary.

Regardless. It's a place where a kid could play/hide without being seen unless someone actually went in there. And, it's not a place adults would go just for shits and giggles. A kid could play in there, digging in the sand or making sand castles or whatever, and they'd stay dry.

They'd be close enough to home that if MOm or Dad called for them, they could hear it. They'd be safe.

And that's the word I want to focus on here. Safe.

That's what the emotional feeling was. It was safe.

Now, a little bit of background to explain why it was/is safe.

When I was a very little girl, from about four years old to about 11 or so, we lived in a nice house in Bothell, Washington. I think it was 155th and Arrow Head Drive. But I can't remember, for sure, the actual address.

Regardless... in my room, I had a closet that went all the way to the side of the house. It ran the width of my room. The main closet area was like a normal closet, but if you stuck your head inside and looked to the right, there was this hiding place you could walk into that followed the eave line to the wall of the house.

===Yes, I've spoken about this many times before... bear with me===

During these same years, my brother got in trouble a lot. I've talked about that more than I ever want to, so I'm not getting into it, however, there were many, many, many times when it was just a good idea to be invisible.

So, I would crawl into my closet, which I'd fixed up for myself. There was a blanket hanging between the end of where a normal closet would stop, and the rest of the hidey-hole part. I had a small lamp in there, blankets and pillows too. I don't remember if I had a radio or not... doesn't matter. I would crawl in there and hide.

No one could find me unless they were really searching for me. No one could get at me. The emotional demons and such which pursued me couldn't reach me in there. It was my safe place. No one could see it unless I pointed it out.

Sometimes, when the brother was in trouble, I would go into my closet, close the doors, then crawl behind the blanket and hide. Just rock and hide in the dark. where no one could find me.

I was a very, very small child. Very small. I was underweight most of my childhood. I looked a lot like a stick figure, actually. ====big difference between then and now, eh?==== I was short and small and could just dissappear.

====I reallize that I'm kinda rambling/babbling here. Please, put up with it. I think I'm "processing".====

But, I would hide in there. No one could hurt me. And the sounds of my brother's screaming were so dulled in there that I could pretend it was someone else. I could pretend it wasn't even in the house.

When Mom and Dad would fight, I could pretend it wasn't really them.

When I had gotten in trouble in school, or when, for another day, no one had talked to me at school, I could go in there and hide.

I could be safe there. Completely safe there. I don't remember even one time when Mom or Dad demanded that I leave that safe place. Not even when they were pissed.

Of course, the number of times they were pissed with me can literally be counted on two hands. *smiles softly* Oh, they'd get irritated or frustrated, as any parent does. But I did not give either of them reason to be pissed but maybe 8 times throughout my entire childhood.

I can literally count the times I've been spanked on ONE hand. That includes every spanking I've ever gotten, from both parents combined. Dad spanked me twice, beat me once. Mom spanked me once and gave me two swats once. That's it. I was the easy child to discipline.

My punishments, the ones that worked best on me, were those like having the parental unit look at me and say, "You shouldn't have done that. Don't do it again." My response was usually tears and, "I'm so sorry. I promise I won't do it anymore."

See? I was the easy kid to discipline. *smirks*

yeah, okay, so I'm digressing all over the place.

The point....

That hidden place... that safe place under the porch, reminds me of the closet I had. I felt safe there. And I thought of my niece and nephew, and I wanted them to have a safe place like that. And I want to have a safe place like that.

When I look at the situation with logical eyes, there is nothing special about the house. But when it comes to the emotional reaction... when it comes to the visceral part of me... I need that house because it's safe. Not the house itself, but the fact that there's a place the little kid in me can go where no one can get me. Where no one could find me unless they were really, really searching me out. And, it's a place that just wouldn't be easy to get me out of.

Now, the correlary to that is as follows...

I believe that from this realization... from being able to identify the fact that there is an illogical, visceral need for this house, I think I understand what "love at first sight" really is.

It's not an emotion, it's a visceral need. There's something about the other person/thing that on a visceral level you absolutely need. It's non-negotiable. It's not that the person you have seen is good for you, or that you're supposed to be soul mates... it's that there's something about them which some part of you identifies with and needs.

For me? It's safety. For me it was the house.

Now that I've looked at it logically, I see that I can create that safety in any place I live. When I have my own house built, I will design in places of safety like that. Places where no one can hurt me, or my kids.

So... what's the point?

For me personally, the point is that I understand "love at first sight" now. Previously I simply negated the phenomenon because it didn't make sense. There is no logic in the concept of falling in love with someone the instant you see them.

And, because of this new realization/interpretation... because of my new ability to associate/translate someone else's words/concepts, I can grant the fact that yes, indeed, love at first sight does exist.

However, it is not love at first sight, but a deeper, more banal, more visceral, less logical need. It is more a physiological reaction/identification, rather than an actual love-based phenomenon.

Love at first sight, still has nothing at all to do with actual, real and honest love. It is a reaction, therefore can be explained and identified.

It can be understood and "figured out".

And, so I say to Charles in regard to something he said to me a few months ago...

"Yes, I do over-analyze poetry."

*chuckles quietly*

Love to all of you...

peace unto thy hearts.