for a second there

just a second

i was starting to think i made a mistake
starting to to think letting you in was not the smartest move

but now?
after yesterday?

i’m sure this was the right path
positive you were the right choice
i know i haven’t picked someone who was wrong for me
i know i haven’t deluded myself into another adventure with unavailability

and to think i wandered into this thinking
this was short term fun.
rather than a slow, easy journey to a new joy.

If only i could explain what you’ve done for me
just by being you
if only i could find a way to reciprocate for everything you do
at the moment, the only thing i think of
is to maintain an oral recognition
of the regal manner in which you’re fulfilling all my wishes
especially the ones I didn’t know I had.
you’re a genuine diamond
your sparkle blinds me

and from my heart to yours my lion
your shine will never go unappreciated.

So I was over at this great blog today. I’ve been following this girl because of her endless funny quips on Twitter, come to find out she has a blog where I can indulge in her mental chocolate cake constantly.

Today she wrote a blog post called

Men Who Think Their Shit Doesn’t Stink

that I encourage you to read if for no other reason than the comedic way in which she breaks it down. Here was my response:

How have I not ever been to your blog before? Do I just not get up early in the morning.

Let me be the first to say BRAVO. Then I’m gonna say something controversial, prefacing it with the fact that I am in full….

FULLL FUCKING AGREEMENT

with all that you have said, right down to the word SOME not all in reference to the black man.

Here’s my controversial piece. I know after some hard self reflection that it’s true of me, that I struggled with it, and that once I came to embrace it as truth, I started getting treated much better by men.

–> We women at some point, accept much worse than we deserve and THAT is how we get caught in these bad relationships. For some of us it takes one bad experience to ex-communicate the one type of man, for some it takes dozens.

It boils down to us being encouraged to believe in scarcity (no good black men, no black men period, take what you can get, we’re getting to old to be picky in finding a lifemate, you can’t get a good lover so if you find a man that’s good at sex, hold on to him at all costs, that sort of garbage), and men being raised to believe in abundance (you have plenty of time, *some* women are a dime a dozen, date a lot just to find out what you like and don’t like, you have a biological need to spread your seed, it’s natural, you can get an orgasm anytime, alone or not)

I just want to expand on that a little from my own experience.

As long as I can remember, two major themes have emerged in my quest for love.

The first theme was that someone who could truly love the way that I do, unafraid to give their whole selves over to the experience, giving actions and true bliss of love was rare, and I was going to have to take what I could get. Life taught me that lesson over and over again until I disagreed with that idea.

The second theme was that being a black woman (really, any type of woman, but this is especially pronounced in the black community) that my choices for a mate in a black man were small. And that if I was realistic, I had to choose from one of the following subsets:

1. A Good but Boring Man who’d be a good husband but a bad lover, would not have an equal share in providing financially for the household, and not a friend at all,
2. A Dog who I’d have an exciting time with sexually who was really good looking and exciting but would ultimately treat me horribly and break my heart,
3. A hybrid of these two – someone serially polygamous, that is, while he was interested in me things would be great, but there was no way he could control his dick long enough for more than a few years or so,
4. The One Night Stand – possible Baby Daddy material, but not good for much else, or,
5. The Unavailable Man – great when he was around, but absent/unreachable/not affectionate most of the time

Being a quality girl, and a fiercely independent person, if there was a conscious choice to be made among the subset of men I could choose, it would be the Unavailable Man. Either he wasn’t physically around but was emotionally giving, was physically around but emotionally unreachable and/or unreadable, he was in some way technically still attached to his former lover, or some weird combination of these.

Until, once again, one day I said No.

My point is that I believe our limitations in love have to do with what we will accept. I think it boils down to self esteem (I’m not good enough or can’t compete for what I really want), belief (what you want doesn’t even exist in another human, despite mathematical probabilities and the fact that YOU were born), and as I alluded to before, the stories we form to shape our experiences as we grow up.

The thing is, we don’t get those pictures in our head alone. I believed in those 5 types of men, and that they were all that were available because I was fed that belief in my environment. Not only that, but as a woman, I was steered away from the notion of NO.

Don’t say no to sex or you won’t get it when you want it.
Don’t say no to this relationship because what if it’s the right, perfect one.
Don’t say no to being with this mediocre person because he may be as close as you can get.
Don’t say no to settling for less – just call it being realistic.

Screw that. I’ve waited this long to be happily married. If it means it takes me another three years to meet, have a relationship with and marry the person I want to be with, then I’ll wait those three years. If it never happens, then I’ll be happily single for life. I tried the route of settling to get married with my last serious relationship and guess what – I’m still single. And it’s not killing me.

I hope that the guy I’m seeing now will eventually be the One. I’m not hell bent on it, but I think we’d make a good match.

I haven’t emotionally or mentally decided that about him yet, I don’t feel like I know version 2.0 of him well enough to say. His big bonus point is the same as what could potentially be a flaw in our relationship, is the problem. The amount he has to be on the move or travel for work and other concerns meshes perfectly with my need for space, freedom and the need to lock myself and work intensely a few times a year.

But part of me, of course worries that I’ve chosen the unavailable man again. What’s different this time though, is that when he’s not physically here he makes himself available to me in other ways. And really, he could use the excuse of unavailability not to see me constantly, but he finds ways to overcome our conflict in schedules and we still see each other plenty for me.

At this point, I don’t care where it’s going with him or how long it lasts because he’s been instrumental in making me really look at and appreciate myself for who I am. If it’s not him, it’s certainly gonna be the next guy. And for the first time, I’m 100% okay with the fact that the guy I want, and have right now, may not be the one I have forever.

Because I’ve said no to the idea that he’s the only one like him out there…

butterflies, softened

It’s almost uncomfortable. almost.

The way you make me feel – unreal unfamiliar but not unclear. Even though I’ve never felt them before, I know exactly what they are. Butterflies.

I’ve heard people talk about this before, and thought them crazy or caught in the throes of some lustful intoxication that feels like lust but I’ve felt lust and this is no duplication. The funny thing is that it’s not constant, I only seem to get this electric fluttering when we’re on that same wavelength.

Like … connected. I hate that this feels fated. Men are normally the ones who feel that about me. And I enjoy that high and indulge. It’s easy for me to tune into other people, to feel their feelings in my body, to intuitively be able to draw the stress from their bodies, insinuate peace into their minds, to get them to feel me, to feel me the way they can see some version of the real me. I guess that’s the reason I’m always the one to leave.

But man… these butterflies. My belly dancing with your memory in it. Fluttering and diving, just thinking of you. Like an insane person. Like one of those crazy, about to fall off the cliff into love people. Man, am I in trouble…

I’m so afraid to feel this way, to be swept into being into you or letting you be into me and I can’t figure out why. I guess I am too impatient and both tired of waiting and in love with the agony of being only 80% sure that this fever is mutual. All I’ve got is what you say and do to me, which technically is enough but I hate assumptions. But there’s so much enjoyment in being courted and taking it slow.

So I can’t give in to the temptation yet. Not with the lingering promise ahead. Not when this living buzzing feeling inside feels so good.

Not when I know what I know in the light with you. Not when you tell me you can’t make love to me in the dark because you have to see me. Not when you climax from our kisses. Not when you say such brilliant things for no reason. Not when you remind me of my beauty. Not when you make such beauty out of sound.

Part of it IS lust. I admit that. I can’t lay on my stomach on my bed anymore – it always ends the same way with my thighs pressed together longing to feel you behind me..pushing… grinding… mmm….

Wait, what was I saying… oh yes… part of it IS lust but it’s only a part, this isn’t an accident, or just the juxtaposition of our bodies bringing each other earthly satisfaction. I guess it’s like you said, there’s no way we can keep away from each other and restrict this to “just friends”. Or that other time you talked about how we are so pulled to each other. Or how, given the chance, we go to crazy lengths to see each other for tiny snatches of time.

I learned this during our recent starvation from each other. I still couldn’t escape your eyes in my head, and this went way beyond wanting you back in my bed. I wanted you opinion, to hear you smile, to make you smile. And if I take this fate back to bedroom states, yes, I don’t just want to be pleasured by you, I want to find every way to please you that I can.

So infinite, definite, intangible, and yet real enough to touch. Lust and something turning into love, so scary when I normally have such control over my emotions. I can get to the edge and back up. With everyone else but you.

I hope. These butterflies will loan me wings…

Okay, you know how I started off my last Lava post with how I’m in trouble? And said that he scored a 98% on my love list?

You don’t know the half.

I feel like I’m in a fairy tale –that I wrote. I feel like I mixed some kind of potion that would make a man into the kind of person I wanted, and forgot about it, and that he found it and drank it. But that he didn’t need to anyway because he was born that way.

I’m not all head over heels in love yet. But I am definitely in trouble. If things kept going like this for another few weeks, I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this before, going in, where it’s going so well that I’m trying to anticipate when the other shoe is going to drop.

You know me though, I believe in the law of attraction, EFT, NLP, etc and I’m not going to manifest disaster into my life. I’m going to keep acting and behaving as if I’m going to get… well… what I’ve been getting!

And I’ve been getting it good. Oh you stop being dirty – I mean the fairy tale… I mean that I have this comfortable excitement with him. I feel like I … fit him and that he fits me. We seem to intuitively get each other. On the one hand, talking to him or seeing him gives me this spark… on the other, I’m SO comfortable with him.

This is so different from anything else I’ve ever felt. And I feel like I’m the most unlikely person he could have picked, as right as it feels. Let me explain that.

Here’s a guy who has seen the world, who goes to New York two weekends a month, has been around all these glamourous, famous folks…. and who does he choose to spend time with? Me.

Let me be clear now – I’m a fantastic person, lol. I’m just saying that given the selection he has, it’s extremely flattering that I’m the preferred choice. I asked him about it yesterday, what it was about me. Apparently I gave him his taste for African women. I can’t even believe he has been thinking of me over the years.

He is a beautiful, sexy, talented man.

Tall, six feet if he’s an inch.

Very deeply chocolate sexy skin. Dreadlocks just touching his shoulders, almost as long as mine were. Lovely eyes. Wonderful smile. Very polite and well mannered. Well spoken and educated.

Extremely creative in my two most favorite ways. Clear and honest in what he says and does. Has a deep love for his fellow man. Generous to a fault, like me, especially when it comes to being a steward of God’s wealth.

Goes to an A.M.E church! Seems like he shares the same thoughts about God that I do. Checks in with me as if we’re already a couple. I feel spoiled already, but he says he’s not spoiling me yet, this is just his personality.

Which makes me think, God, what if he tried to impress me? Because that’s what I’ve come to realize – instead of just meeting someone randomly and hoping he’ll become what you want, why not find someone who already has most of the attributes you want, and then find ways to compromise on the rest?

And so far, he’s all I remember him to be and so much more. What’s funny is that I didn’t find our first relationship particularly memorable. Not that it wasn’t great. It was. It just didn’t have enough time to start to be something. We weren’t together long enough to have been an official couple even, or to fall in love. We had a good time together, a comfortable yet exciting time together.

It’s crazy because everything I liked about him then is the same. And everything I didn’t get the chance to like is unbelievably better than I could hope. This is making me feel like I’m a dream. Money is coming together. It looks like I’m on the cusp of a romance. Mentally, physically, emotionally I’m feeling confident. If the trend of the last three months is any indication by summer time I’ll be in better shape than I was in college.

I always believed my mid-30s was when, after all the suffering, my life would begin to work out, and I’d be blessed tens times more than I was cursed.

And it’s looking that way. I’ll have more about Lava’s sweet hotness another day. Right now?

I’m gonna go bask.

So let me tell you how this thing went down, and, later, who this guy is to my heart and things.

In college, I knew this guy. I won’t go into too many details because I don’t want those of you who knew me in college to give the man the third degree, because really this is just starting back up. It hasn’t even been a week since we’ve become reacquainted.

Of course, from the first day we saw each other again after about 17 years, we’ve been together four out of the six days since then under extremely inconvenient circumstances.

But.

I’m really looking at this with both feet on the ground, hard as it is. If you ask my heart, that’s another story. Still, he makes me feel as if I don’t have to rush, as if I have a secure enough place to take my time.

Okay, so let’s get in the way back machine.

When I met this guy, I was in the second semester of my freshman year. I’d just started to find my people on campus. I started to frequent the school nightclub and it’s been so long I’m not sure if that’s where we met, or if we just ended up there. Anyway, we had the same circle of friends and hung out together, and somehow, I can’t quite remember how, we ended up pairing off.

I remember really digging him, great conversations, warm hugs, romantic and sensual sparks/events. It wasn’t quite long enough for us to be in a relationship though.

Just when we were getting to know each other better, something happened to him – a project he was on brought him fame and fortune. There came a choice between that, and finishing school. And the smart thing to do was to chase that dream and finish your degree later.

We lost touch over the years. I thought about him on occasion and would get word that he was doing well. What I didn’t know is that he was really getting successful at what he was doing, traveling the world, meeting people I see on TV, hear on the radio, and read about in tabloids.

Now, I’ve never been one to be star-struck or to think that knowing/being with famous people makes you better than other people. I’ve known and met famous people and I only ever got geeked over literary icons. Because 1- I’m a nerd, and 2- some people regard me as famous in my tiny part of the internet, so I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of it.

However, in the field he is in, the people he worked with represented dream opportunities, they’re all names you would recognize, and I’m proud of the work he’s done, so I’m mentioning it here. It’s also relevant to the story.

To continue, this is how we got back in touch.

You ready?

FREAKING FACEBOOK!

I know, right? Crazy.

He was in touch with a friend of mine who I was recently back in touch with and she told him I was on Facebook. He contacted me in January. I bantered back and forth with him a bit, then he said he wanted to talk to me. I, asshole that I am, didn’t call him back for five days. I really wanted to let Valentine’s Day pass before I spoke to any male on the planet. Ha.

But I spoke to him shortly before Valentine’s day. And every day since then. During one of our discussions, we discovered that I had something rare he wanted to borrow. I’m barely 45 minutes from him without traffic, so we’d made arrangements to meet last week on Thursday.

We ended up seeing each other on Wednesday instead, then on Thursday as planned. Then almost every day since then, we’ve been together. He’s going through some drama, some unbelievable messed up crap that would make my hair fall out, but he’s driving nearly hour out of his way almost every day to come and see me.

So that covers the back story. I’ll talk about all the other stuff next.

you make me blush
at a smile from you
and after your touch

i know what junkies go through
wanting to be high
wanting to be high

and i
know it is not natural for my skin to ache
when your chest
does not flatten my breasts

but im not concerned with
whether or not my mind is bent

i just want another hit
i just want another hit
i want to be

blunted

on your love
to breathe your kisses on my skin in
and love that pain which results
when

your hairs aren’t mingling with mine.
your eyes lock us in between time.
you get me lost in your rhythm and rhyme

and i

flush
blush
rush to your
touch.

and i
lust
til i
bust

oh, damn
i wanna
fuck.

but no go
cuz you’re 2 hours away.

and so i will call
and ain’t got shit to say.

just i want to get high
on knowing you’re there
and your voice makes me have to wring out
my underwear.

though you’ve said nothing sexual
just wanted to ask
how my day was and how i plan to get past
these days
these nights

without you near

so i
cry
sigh
bloodshot are
my eyes

but i
stay strong
as i long
but
mmm-damn
i want to die.

but i’ll keep it togehter
until that day whenever
i see you again
my lover
my friend
and as i wait for your presence
to beam me up

i will think of your love
and
i
will
Blush.

* the audio version never follows the written exactly. Also, I recorded it in phone quality on purpose- it’s supposed to sound like a voicemail message.

As always, this is an incredibly self-centered post. The site is called “Tinu Stuff” people. Get used to it, LOL!

Seriously though, the reason I have a special site that acts as the public side of my personal journal is for three reasons.

First, I like to keep written records, both on and offline, of how I feel, what I think and how I came to certain conclusions, etc., to help with my own evolution. I’m always attempting to make myself into the best me. This helps.

Second, pure entertainment value. It amazes me how many people just enjoy seeing what is in someone else’s mind and heart.

Third, I’m hoping that some small part of this blog will be a help, inspiration or warning to someone. Even if it’s one person. I know that there have been several times where reading someone else’s thoughts on a situation they were in helped me immensely.

Today I’m thinking about what would make my relationships in the future more successful. And I’ve come up with several things.

First, in the beginning, I have to start keeping all thoughts about the situation to myself unless someone should expressly ask. I’ve become conscious of the fact that I vacillate between complete radio silence and bursts of emotion, and that it’s potentially quite unnerving. It’s usually because when I meet people, I watch and circle them for weeks or months before actually engaging. Then, in the few circumstances where I feel I’ve met someone I can connect with, I’m so happy about it that my filter turns completely off.

The problem is that while some people welcome this wholeheartedly and with relief that they can now do the same, other people don’t find it as cool. On top of that, I often do it in writing. And if you’ve been here or to any other site of mine before, you can see that I can sit down and write a 1000 word stream-of-consciousness brain dump in less than an hour, and read one in less than 3 minutes.

I easily forget that not everyone is a speed reader or particularly fond of reading long prose. Ah, well. In business, I learned to write for people who scan. Not so much in my personal life — if anything I’m more verbose.

Secondly, I really have to think about what I truly want in a relationship versus what I think I’m supposed to have.

Yes, I want to fall in love. But I don’t want, need or expect love to be all-consuming. I want to have a life outside my primary partnership and I want my partner to do the same. That’s how we can keep things fresh – space and lots of it. I believe true love is about freedom.

Yes, I want to get married. But I don’t want to have a traditional marriage. Not to say I wouldn’t adore being a house wife. I’m down for all of it expect cleaning, so I’d probably keep my business open part-time to guarantee we’d have household help. I’m not damaging my health for anyone, ever again.

What I mean by non-traditional is that I’m not a traditionalist in most respects, as far as relationships are concerned. I’m from a culture where a man and a woman go to a party together and everyone dances with everyone else’s spouse. I thought this was normal until I went to college and faced issues of possessiveness and jealousy whenever I was what I felt was a little flirty.

That’s really the shallow end of the pool though. I believe men can be tender and still masculine, gentlemen and still respect equality. I also don’t believe that you can or should possess another person, outside the romantic sense of the word. I believe we are brought together to love each other as we are, not “fix” each other. I believe in freedom, on both sides of the fence… while I want to be part of a couple that does things together, I don’t believe we have to, or should want to, spend all our free time together.

I’m a creative person, and when I get into my creative space, I need to be alone. That can last for hours sometimes and I need to be with someone who is okay with that, or better yet, just not around certain times of days or days of the week so I can habituate myself into summoning as much of my inspiration as I can in that alone time.

That’s not to say I want to end up with someone I don’t see. Not at all. Just that I’m the type of person who could be with a basketball player who was on the road for weeks at a time, as long as the quality of the time we have together is superior and prioritized.

Actually, judging by past relationships, I think I would thrive on it. And I also see how not having those options sometimes made me feel smothered. I was once deeply in love with someone who wanted to be with me every day, all day, no matter what. I appreciated his devotion, but was frustrated with the fact that we didn’t ever DO anything once we were together. So we had all of the time but none of the spark. No intellectual stimulation, no conversation, no exploration or travel.

Yeah, there was the sex, but since I was better at it than he was, that kinda sucked after a while – not horribly.

But have you ever had your favorite dish, prepared the exact same way for three weeks in a row, at every meal. Trust me by the time you get to week three you want to punch newborn kittens in the face.

I also feel that freedom is important here. Over the years, I’ve found that I’m not so much a jealous or possessive woman at all, it’s just the way I react when I feel the relationship is insecure. Once the declarations of love come into play and are reinforced with some regularity, and my position as his lady is secure, I get very laid back as far as feeling secure in the relationship.

In fact, I’ve come to realize that I’m actually not the jealous type at all when I’m feeling balanced. I was just unbalanced so often, in so many of the wrong relationships that I thought it was the norm.

This is important because I want to be married to someone who is ambitious or has some kind of purpose to their life with respect to adding to the world, not just living in it and taking from it. Nine times out of ten, that means you’ll be looking at a creative type, or a social type, both of which have to deal with either fans or making social connections.

And if you’re constantly asking “Who the hell is Christine!?” and waving business cards in the man’s face? Probably not a good match. When I realize that this is what I wanted, and how the way I related was incongruent, I fixed it fast.

Now, granted, in my last major relationship, I fixed it TOO much, because who seriously goes for marrying a guy with 6 kids by four mothers, who lives in proximity to two of them, and can barely support themselves? And on top of that wanted to keep me a secret until we were at least 2 kids deep?

Yeah, I’m talking about Droplet. Let’s not even get into THAT.

I’d prefer it be an artist – it’s been a lifelong dream to find a way to marry a poet or a painter – or better yet be one – and still live a comfortable life.

I want – need – to be with someone who wants to travel. Who enjoys it. Because one of my favorite things in the wide world is to hotel hop for a couple of weeks and live off room service. In about five years, I’ll probably try to figure out how to turn that into a career.

There was a time when I used to make up reasons to travel, just because I had the money. Other days I would say I was traveling, and go to a hotel in my home city instead. I adored having a good reason to hotel hop in Vegas.

And I don’t need someone else to be there. I can have a perfectly fantastic time on my own, not to mention that since I can work from anywhere with a high speed connection, I never need miss work because I thought it’d be a nice day to island-hop. If I get bored, I just go out and meet people. Folks just like to chat with me for some reason. I’m told I have one of those faces.

There are physical and personality characteristics too.

Yep. I have a list and I’m ain’t settling. There are certain things I’ll give up to get other things, but some stuff is mandatory.

I’ll post that whole list later.

The point of all this is, I’m starting to see how deep my issue of choosing the wrong men goes.

Whenever I chose someone physically unavailable, who couldn’t be near me, it’s because I wanted to be in love without the responsibility of doing anything about it.

When I would chose someone who was emotional unavailable, it had a lot to do with how much I valued myself and my belief that I was worthy of love. And it was often because I wasn’t ready for the level of commitment – and I never will be because I want to be in love and married BUT I don’t want to be in the standard relationship….

I need a man who is away sometimes, whether that means marrying an entrepreneur who doesn’t work out of the home as I do, or being with some salesman who travels the world for his job and takes me with him.

Now, choosing someone technically unavailable must be sub-conscious. I’m so ready to find a person to be with and stop dating and starting over. I want to build a future with one person, in a relationship we define together, rather than one we find ourselves prisoners to because “that’s what people do.”

For a while, I even talked myself out of finding a man who was a friend to me first, simply because none of us hurts our true friends the way we do lovers. That friendship is the bedrock that I believe takes you through the hard times. When you know that other person is your captain or first mate, that it’s the two of you teamed up against the world, it adds so much to life.

And no, those aren’t all the things I’ve decided I want. Matter of fact, tomorrow or Tuesday I’ll put up the list – so if you find him you can tell him I’m looking.

Hm. Actually I might not be at the moment. I have one guy I’m looking really seriously at, and another waiting in the wings behind him (if he acts right), just in case.

Which I deserve a wrist slap for, I know but it’s not like I’m doing this on purpose.

Besides, it’s too early for me to tell with this person. The instant he says he’s mine, all other bets are off. So I’ll put it up for entertainment value, ‘kay?

you are my Beloved
my dearly beloved
the only essence enough
to fill the immeasureable expanse of my heart
which only opens to occurrences of your opulent adoration.

and i am beyond love
so i make up words and say I
Belove
you.

and what is it to Belove?

when i scribe memories of moments on the back of time,
when i invert rhyme to realize the poetic bliss of you and our union
when i exist on top of a minute of blue surreality, under the infinity of your eyes.

this is Belove.

when i burn in my yearning for the turning of churning a discerning tactile treaure between my lips locked on top of the soaring mist of sunrise’s kiss within you,
when i sit upon my fleshed throne with a supple smooth as silver sword sheathed in sublime suck-tion of scintillating sensual support,
when i taste temptation of a tongue which once turned trumpets into tunes and now turns tunes into torrents of tanka-like treats that tumble into trains of ‘Trane,
when i drink down the dearest of my delicious dreams which dance delighted out of my favorite pinnacles door,
when i stir cycles of commitment in circles completing cylindrical seas seeking the circumference of coming to your call to cum for you,
when i triangulate your want and become congurent to your desire, perpendicular to the spot you want blessed, laying diagonally from the best thing that ever happened to me,
when i surround your pain and subject it to sonnets of songs wrapped in love and dipped in tomorrow, simmering a healing touch, writing words directly to the heart that is parallel to my own, hoping i can soothe within as i stand on the perimeter of your spirit, the radius of us,

that is Belove.

and since this is that and all that is also this, i guess that’s that, at least that’s what Deepak said.
but let me break it down some more.

we are
Beyond Love
we are
Souls Mating
In Unconventional Ways
Our Love Affair
is one where
we cannot measure our mutual pleasure
in seconds, eons or days.

so until they come up with a better way
to say forever
i will find or make up words to convey
This One Thought
that sets my spirit to melody….
I Will Love You Always.

So greedily do I gulp down memories of your sweetest flesh, hot against my mouth.

Playing my tongue against a recollection of your lips, I slow down to a sip, not wanting the drink of that image to ever fade. Because I remember, yesterday, the wave of euphoria, back to that first day you kissed me.

Pondering the lifetime and wanderings between now and then, it feels like I’m in a fairy tale, one of those where the protagonist follows fortune with a young expectant heart, constantly blessed with abundance, even a child, but not a lasting love. And he returns home, one day, hunts down the sweetheart who was there before the fame, and returns for her, sweeping her off her ground onto a cloud departing for the paradise only two twinned hearts can create.

That look in your eye then. I knew you were leaving and that I adored you but wasn’t ready for you to stay. How lost I was after your departure, not realizing you were the missing piece. Amazed at your nature to just treat people so humanely. Acutely aware of the extra you endow me with.

Which somehow whirls me back to when we reacquainted, just a few heartbeats ago. Hearing your voice filled with excitement upon seeing me before I knew you were there. Returning to you and being enveloped in … strength. safety. warmth. affection. Like a huge blanket of sweet fond feelings.

I could feel more from that hug that in some of the more lavish verbal expressions of love I’ve been offered.

Pulling away from you in surprise and experiencing delight at that approving, devouring look of yours that I remember. Then hearing you verbalizing it on top of my own glowing review of you.

Suddenly it was as if something electrical had reconnected, something so subtle I didn’t know it was gone until it was back. Powerful, but subtle, like beautiful music playing at a background level.

There is much of you that is unexpected. I thought I would find someone who was not nostalgic, missing me, finding me again, a pointed search for who I was, the me I still am. I prepared myself for a different type of approach to affection than I’d prefer.

Wrong again. From the easy way we fell immediately into holding each other, to hugs upon request and walking hand in hand so easily and comfortably, I could imagine how a less worthy woman would complain, as your ex had, that you were too affectionate with her. Whereas I believe there is no such thing. That an abundance of physical affection can compensate for so many other shortcomings.

And I know you have them somewhere, shortcomings. I have yet to make their acquaintance and memory does not serve me well there. I imagine that yours are many minor, rather than one large unmanageable.

None of which were shown in this first time you kissed me. Like some merciless attack against every logical counter I could imagine. An eraser of all doubt.

Bringing me to here. To a trust I once thought impossible. To a budding in me I thought I had buried again. Back here again. Staring up in your eyes, believing.

Faith in the entwined portion of our destiny.

And.

I, again, am yours, for that moment. We’ll see what happens next…

I am sick. If you’ve seen me around the web you know that I’m not keeping it a secret. I’m whining as if I was the only person ever to have the flu in life. That’s mostly because it feels like a cross-strain of the ebola virus and bird flu.

But I’m not unhappy. And in no small way, it’s because I’m being courted.

I’m being called several times a day. Sweet nicknames are being given to me. I am regaled by tales of my beauty. The depth of desire for me is often referenced.

I’m being enveloped in the type of energy I most prefer. And apparently, I’m not even getting the good stuff yet.

It’s more than that though. This person is going through a difficult time in their lives, a painful, humbling experience, and yet still finds time to prioritize me.

You know, like lovers are Supposed to do.

Yay.

So. Now a darn near Perfect man is in love with me.

He’s tall, he loves the way I’m shaped, loves everything about the way I look *now*, is divorced with an 18 year old daughter, is ten years older than me, has a great job with an oil company, works and lives in Kuwait for the next several years, writes poetry (!!),

… is articulate, intelligent, shares my ancestry, is supposed to come visit me in the next few months, emotionally available, has a mind only slightly dirtier than mine, is courting me(!),

… has written me love letters, deeply spiritual, romantic, loves kids, wants to have kids, likes dancing, drinks socially, verbally affectionate, wants to send me gifts, and so far, treats me like a princess.

I feel like I can’t be in love again this fast but he’s getting me there. It doesn’t hurt that he’s already in love with me (we’ve known each other since November 6th, 2008), and he tells me so, even though I told him I can’t quite return his feelings yet.

I don’t like to flit from relationship to relationship, not my style. At the same time, I don’t like to put false limitations on love or feelings.

If there’s more news after Friday, I’ll share it. But I’m soon to be indisposed, probably for a few days. I have a recovery cycle coming on after tomorrow morning that will probably take me down for two or three days if experience is a good indication.

So until then, I hope you’re grabbing life by its heart, and caressing it into doing your bidding.

just the breeze from our twin passion could light candles
to burn a flame only this desire could handle…

I dream of you.
when my eyes are open
and I wait
to see if you are my dream come alive.

Because I had this idea in my head that love ends. For the longest time, I built my business as a distraction from heartache. Somehow it became my built-in barrier to falling in love. And of course it doesn’t have to be, because I can technically work anywhere.

Then one day, my heart broken particularly harshly, with someone I was passionately close to, whose growth as an artist I groomed, went to visit a lover I didn’t know about on our company money, and fell in love with her.

On a weekend when I was really sick, immobile in bed sick. And yeah, then he stole a bunch of my stuff from the place we were staying in together. While I helplessly watched.

Clllllllllassy. I sure can pick ‘em, right?

But that’s the thing. I can pick ‘em.

This guy wasn’t all bad, in fact, he wasn’t bad most of the relationship – it was almost like he curdled, like spoiled milk. And this is why, even though I yearn to love, I’m also AFRAID to love. It’s not the heartache and pain that’s possible when you risk it all.

It’s that I never want it to end in flat-out Betrayal again. Because of some of the things that happened during my youth, I have a huge problem with someone betraying me. I don’t mind so much losing a man to someone else. I do mind when someone can’t wait to break up with me before they go off and sleep with that someone else.

And all of that amounts to why I’m afraid to love – I’m not afraid of the possible pain in general, which I always assumed. I’m afraid of the possibility of Betrayal.

Isn’t that crazy?

It’s crazy in the most beautiful way though. I understand myself so much better now. I know why I prefer to be friends with a guy first – I believe if you’re good enough friends with a person, they won’t hurt you the same way someone who only knows you as a lover will.

It’s why I have, on and off, chosen unavailable men. Not just to enjoy the yearning, not just because it meant I could be in love but not have to DO anything about it.

But because I was afraid to be able to do something about it and then be stabbed in the back.

Now that I realize this about myself, consciously, I can accept it, and so quickly it’s shocking to me, overcome it. I’m absolutely feeling fully ready to love someone who can be with me, here, right now.

I’m absolutely ready to risk the fact that it may start out lovely and then not work out. I can even risk that I could be betrayed. I wouldn’t like it. But first of all, what are the odds that it would happen again to who I am today, versus who I was then? I wasn’t as honest with myself then as I am now, and I certainly didn’t push myself to live as fully.

Even more importantly, I’m ready to accept that it might start out perfectly lovely, and stay that way. I’m willing to accept that it’s likely, even probable, that while we’ll have our ups and downs like any couple, we’ll be happy in love too.

I’m accepting of this to the point that I believe that my belief is drawing this person ever closer to me. Not my belief alone of course, I’m big on action when the time is appropriate –in fact I told a friend of mine what the perfect man looks like to me, and had him start working on finding this gentleman out.

As of right now, today, I’m making the space for this love that will come into my life to breathe and flourish. I’m open and accepting of whatever direction it may come from, however, I’m also watching that I’m not settling for less than what I want out of the desire to get this love moving towards marriage.

I believe in this love and that it’s already coming towards me, as I move forward to embrace it.

What do YOU believe?

What do you accept into your life today?

all i do
is think about you

old stevie wonder joint
cranking in the background
that joint that makes you think about love
that joint that makes you feel your love
that joint that makes you look for your Love
whether you have one or not
your mind wanders to a face or a place
where you once or still find love

all i do
is think about you

old stevie wonder joint
has me remembering times in the park when we
danced in the sun
tumbling down a hill of green pleasure stretching before us

i thought i was in love
in love with being in love
though i knew i wasnt in love
with you
we had a great time
didnt we?

all i do
is think about you

old stevie wonder joint
pumpin in my head
i remember when i realized that i didn’t actually love you
and that feeling of being in love came from being around you
and seeing all that you do

how you selflessly were living
and constantly giving
straight from the heart
no bum was too dirty
for your spare change or your uneaten lunch
it’s because of you i will endure an afternoon of hunger
for strangers i have never met….
thank you for helping me find myself

all i do
is think about you

old stevie wonder joint
got me all blue and yet happy
cuz you made a real difference in my life

and because of you
i can make a real difference in other people’s lives
it started with my little publication in college
and now i’m an activist for life
you taught me how to be free and i thank you
you taught me who was me
and i thank you
and

all i do
is think about you

stevie wonder joints
about freedom, or love make me think
i think about the difference you
would have made
i think about how hard you worked for others
with no money paid

i think

about a drunk driver taking your life when you were pulled over to the side of the road to sleep so you wouldn’t hit the other people on the road why couldn’t you just go to a rest stop you make me so mad but i still love you you will always be my big brother and i miss you so much it hurts and i feel the impact and the fire of the explosion and heard your voice in my bedroom that night 100 miles away from the place where you died on impact

no one understands my grief cuz they don’t think i knew you well enough
but they don’t know how you changed me
and they never saw us together, laughing
and they never knew we kept in contact

and they don’t see that if you can fall in romantic love at first sight, you can
fall in friendship, too

and the night before you died i remember your eyes
hopeful and ready for a journey
cuz we had spent the afternoon together
our mind messiah and the 13 of us

i remeber your eyes
talking about the journey of the soul
and, as i told my girlfriend that night
overcast by two red glowing lights

all i do
is think about you

…and.

the picture of you in my mind is of the softness in your eyes and
a reflection of the love i have staring back at me.
there are moments i’m so sure you feel it
not that i feel i have to wait
for what you’re feeling
to address what
i am

…but.

i am holding back. naturally out of concern for you, but a lie is a lie is a lie
is omission and my level of contrition in the face of our redefinition
of integrity – well it’s killing me. my love for you is bursting.
i swim in it whenever my head is filled with your words
secretly coming undone during innocent exchange
moist and clandestine the blush flushes
imagining your touch. you see?
it makes me wander from
the point of all this.
which is
you…

…well.

i’m digressing because i’m procrastinating and, well, i’m procrastinating
because i’m scared. and i’m scared because i don’t know if this
from me would be a new complication or a blessing to you
then i realized yesterday just how much i loved you
once. enough to drive me to tears and i haven’t
cried like that in years not even over death.
not too profound to say but i’m – doing it
doing it again see? what you make me
can’t take the anxiety. not anymore
so i’m going to go ahead and
open up to you no more…
bs.

…so.

back then, when we were … so … entwined. press rewind and pause
and you’ll see that i didn’t just adore you. it went so much deeper
and if you click forward one frame you’ll see me loving you
and not loving you, to be clear, like one loves a dear one
or even how you love a dear one you fell into a
lust-ship with for a few months, more like
i was in love with you. so deeply
i wore it casually but it was
a formal affair to me
i loved
you.

…yes.

i was in full on, yes i will marry you like you asked me the first time, love.
and was is the wrong word. especially in the space where i write
because i am still in love with you and to tell the whole truth
i’m fairly sure i never stopped loving you
just gave up that we could be. i know
you can’t love me back. probably not
now at least, but if you could i’d
do
say
be

anything.

go anywhere
as soon as
we’re
free.

precisely because i know you’d never
let me change. not for you.
then, you loved as is.
and that is why.

i’m no longer ashamed of it, and.
it’s the same, my part of us
it’s the same this love,
we’re the same

it’s
still
the same.

and i?
am out of the keep it secret game…

the saddest thing is that I’ll always think of you in shadow
what might have been
what almost was
how happy an us
the sensual side was great
but it was never
just
about lust -

though I still rub my flesh
in absent-minded attempt to erase you -
no.

no matter how unlikely
no matter how premature

it was love.
and now all I have
is the memory of.