I wrote this on my way to work today. Hope you like it!
Music is a compilation of scales arranged in such a way as to tell a story, evoke an emotion or comfort a soul. You do not have to have the talent or skill to wield these scales to participate in the world it creates; You have only to listen, and you can visit anew anytime you like.
Those who do have the talent, be it by voice, composition or solid instrument,
Are the gift-givers to those of us rooted in firm earth;
To travel freely and with wild abandon to our most cherished memories, lost loves and far away landscapes,
We may otherwise be unable to see.
Deidre Tallett, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Divorce has BEEN over, now what??
Divorce is never a fun thing. It can be the right thing, it can even be an amicable thing. But it is never easy and there is always fallout in some way, form or fashion. Everyone's different and we're all the same too. It's just a fact that there are a lot of us divorcee's out there, and it's becoming more and more common all the time.
So, of course you make the obligatory mistakes when it's been a while since you've dated. You become over- eager, are sexually charged, date a lot, miss all the grossly obvious red-flags that tell you NOT to go out with him or her...you name it, it's done. You think you're ready for things, and you discover afterwards that you're not. As a woman, you can often put yourself in compromising or even dangerous positions without even realizing until it is too late.
All that aside, we learn that there is much that happens that's overwhelming, frantic, hurtful, weird, lonely, angry and of course sexual, in that first year. NOT a good time to take anything seriously, other than moving forward and giving yourself time to heal. I've yet to meet anyone that does that though. It's all about proving you've still got it at first. *Sigh*. Greenhorns all.
AFTER that first year though, the stories are as varied as the people telling them. Almost everyone slows down and begins to take their time in the dating arena, but there are others who need TWO years to reach this point, or even THREE.
So, is there actually a magic number?
I'm not sure. I know that even after that first year, I was driving through our old neighborhood, curious to see our old house. Gosh, I loved that house! It had new owners and it wasn't really being taken care of. And out of the blue that whole "failure" feeling overcame me. A year later! I'm crying as I drive away from a place that wasn't even a HAPPY home, but it had been MY home...and now it wasn't.
Things just hit you, it seems, no matter how much time has passed.
The other day (and it's been two years now), I was in the grocery. It's a place I almost AVOID now. I used to LOVE to go there. I would get food for the next two weeks, plan meals, be excited over special treat finds, etc. NOW, there's me and my son, certainly. But the buck stops with ME. If I buy out the store (spending $300 or so) like a used to, there is only ME to get it all home; load the car, and unload the car at home, and then put it all away. UGH.
It is nice having someone to make things for. It is nice having someone to bring special treats home to. And yes, I bring them home for my son. However, it really is a little different.
And though in my marriage I didn't have this, in a recent relationship I very much did: that EASE of communication. They know you, understand you and vice versa. You don't have to explain. THAT is something that to me, is GOLDEN.
I'm a woman with a good job and a good home. I'm a good Mom and a strong person, in general. I have been on my own more of my life than not, so it's not an "uncomfortable in your own skin" thing. It's more that while I LIKE my own skin, it'd be nice to every now and then, not ALWAYS have to be the only boss; to have that friend that you miss during the day and can't wait to get home to at night; to have that partner to bounce things off of and rely on here and there. Not to mention that person in your bed that ISN'T phobic about being there, that isn't trying to use you, and that isn't just a one night stand.
It's that sudden tinge of lonely that hits you unexpectedly in a room crowded with your friend's voices and your children's play. It's interesting, because for me for instance...it's not really been a focus for quite some time now. I got tired of the personal dating sites, and the mass dating rituals. That was within the first 6 months or so. I outgrew the need to prove that I'm desirable still.
I do still beat myself up every now and then about my imperfections as a parent, and I do occasionally still feel the emotion of failure when stop to breathe for a minute.
So, while I'm fine alone for now and am truly in no hurry to rush into anything remotely serious at this moment...I am not exactly sure what to think of these fleeting moments of painful memories and intrinsic longings.
Is three years the magic number for healing after divorce? Four?
So, of course you make the obligatory mistakes when it's been a while since you've dated. You become over- eager, are sexually charged, date a lot, miss all the grossly obvious red-flags that tell you NOT to go out with him or her...you name it, it's done. You think you're ready for things, and you discover afterwards that you're not. As a woman, you can often put yourself in compromising or even dangerous positions without even realizing until it is too late.
All that aside, we learn that there is much that happens that's overwhelming, frantic, hurtful, weird, lonely, angry and of course sexual, in that first year. NOT a good time to take anything seriously, other than moving forward and giving yourself time to heal. I've yet to meet anyone that does that though. It's all about proving you've still got it at first. *Sigh*. Greenhorns all.
AFTER that first year though, the stories are as varied as the people telling them. Almost everyone slows down and begins to take their time in the dating arena, but there are others who need TWO years to reach this point, or even THREE.
So, is there actually a magic number?
I'm not sure. I know that even after that first year, I was driving through our old neighborhood, curious to see our old house. Gosh, I loved that house! It had new owners and it wasn't really being taken care of. And out of the blue that whole "failure" feeling overcame me. A year later! I'm crying as I drive away from a place that wasn't even a HAPPY home, but it had been MY home...and now it wasn't.
Things just hit you, it seems, no matter how much time has passed.
The other day (and it's been two years now), I was in the grocery. It's a place I almost AVOID now. I used to LOVE to go there. I would get food for the next two weeks, plan meals, be excited over special treat finds, etc. NOW, there's me and my son, certainly. But the buck stops with ME. If I buy out the store (spending $300 or so) like a used to, there is only ME to get it all home; load the car, and unload the car at home, and then put it all away. UGH.
It is nice having someone to make things for. It is nice having someone to bring special treats home to. And yes, I bring them home for my son. However, it really is a little different.
And though in my marriage I didn't have this, in a recent relationship I very much did: that EASE of communication. They know you, understand you and vice versa. You don't have to explain. THAT is something that to me, is GOLDEN.
I'm a woman with a good job and a good home. I'm a good Mom and a strong person, in general. I have been on my own more of my life than not, so it's not an "uncomfortable in your own skin" thing. It's more that while I LIKE my own skin, it'd be nice to every now and then, not ALWAYS have to be the only boss; to have that friend that you miss during the day and can't wait to get home to at night; to have that partner to bounce things off of and rely on here and there. Not to mention that person in your bed that ISN'T phobic about being there, that isn't trying to use you, and that isn't just a one night stand.
It's that sudden tinge of lonely that hits you unexpectedly in a room crowded with your friend's voices and your children's play. It's interesting, because for me for instance...it's not really been a focus for quite some time now. I got tired of the personal dating sites, and the mass dating rituals. That was within the first 6 months or so. I outgrew the need to prove that I'm desirable still.
I do still beat myself up every now and then about my imperfections as a parent, and I do occasionally still feel the emotion of failure when stop to breathe for a minute.
So, while I'm fine alone for now and am truly in no hurry to rush into anything remotely serious at this moment...I am not exactly sure what to think of these fleeting moments of painful memories and intrinsic longings.
Is three years the magic number for healing after divorce? Four?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Mysterious Motorcycle Guy
He waited for her at a small town coffee shop; standing out with his dark hair, tattoos and heavy metal adornment. People went in and out and glanced at him with surprise and curiosity. A woman or two looked at him with desire mingled with fear, but he was used to that. His strength was evident in his build, but also his stance. He sat at an outside table, leaned back and casual, with an aura of a lion ready to pounce. He carried with him an air of power under control. It could be intoxicating, and he was counting on that today.
It was an unusual August day in Texas; sunny and only a mild 75 degrees. It was a perfect day to ride and a perfect day to finally meet this woman. She'd piqued his interest because she radiated sex; not in an overt way, but it was there just below the surface. She also didnt' strike him as a mindless drone, which was always a plus. She was a little on the "good girl" side for his usual tastes, but he knew that he'd enjoy banishing that image completely from her if she gave him the chance. That was part of her charm; that mixture of innocence and sexual heat. It made him curious to taste what she was made of.
She was relaxed and loving this day. It was beautiful and finally, well below 100. She hated it when it was too uncomfortable to be outside. She loved the feel of the light breezy wind and the sounds of the lake in the distance. She liked living here and crossing that bridge at the end of every long day in the city; leaving that flurry of frantic activity behind for the easy, slow pace of the towns across the lake. Wednesday evening's sailboat races were one of her favorite sights to see on her way home. There was something powerfully beautiful in seeing them fly through the water so quickly, wind driving them forward. She sighed. It'd been a long time since she'd felt the water under her like that.
Today, she was meeting someone she'd been talking to here and there online. It'd been an interesting exchange of flirtations, and he was nothing like anyone she'd ever been attracted to before. His profile had been dark with motorcycles and classic music on it. It revealed a strong mind, strong opinion and someone who'd been through a thing or two and who had absolutely no tolerance for stupidity or weak minds. She wasn't entirely sure what brought her here. They didn't have much in common and as a matter of fact, she'd often felt like certain softer parts to her character were irritating to him. So, why was she here today? Because she was curious. He was persistent, and she was intrigued. It'd been a while since she'd gone a little wild, so why not today?
She wore her hair up, with a strapless halter and jeans with sandals. They were going to meet here and decide what to do from there. She went into the coffee shop glancing around, but didn't see him. She stepped up to the counter then, smiled and ordered her usual mocha frappachino and waited, looking around some more. Then she saw him outside, facing away from her, staring out into the day. He looked very confident and relaxed, and suddenly she wasn't so sure that she felt that way anymore.
Wow. He was tall. Even sitting down, it was easy to see that. She picked up on that same mixture of bad boy and intelligence she'd seen online. Her coffee was ready. She paid for it, smiled at the cashier and went outside.
She walked up behind him and touched him on the shoulder and then came around to face him. She might have said "hi", but couldn't remember if she did or not. She did remember that when he stood up, her mouth went dry and her heart raced a bit because the raw sex that flowed from this man was palpable. He invaded her space immediately and leaned in and very, very softly kissed her lips.
She was caught so off guard, she didn't know what to say. No one had ever done that before. It was as if every limb was paralyzed and she could no longer think for herself. She was grateful when he told her to sit down. She didn't know what had come over her but she appreciated that he had the presence of mind to take control and tell her what to do. Whatever her problem was, she'd most certainly lost any control she thought she had over this date.
She sipped at her drink, and looked at him across the table from her. She stretched out her legs and from shin to ankle, touched his leg. It was electric, and he glanced down, then looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled, hidden behind her sunglasses. He took her hand and began stroking it. Neither one said anything until she looked at him and said,
"So?"
"Even better in person."
They sat in silence again after that, feeling the chemistry between them weave back and forth; the two areas in contact with each other, distracting. Finally, he asked her if she wanted to go for a ride? She'd wondered if she'd be up for it or not. It'd literally been YEARS since she'd ridden. But of course that's not what she said. All that came out was, "Sure." She moved to her car and put her purse in the trunk, and then began to remove her sunglasses too.
"Uh, you're going to need those."
"Oh! Okay."
Silly. She should have known that! What was wrong with her? She felt an odd mixture of school girl sheepishness, excitement and ease. So far, this was not at all what she expected.
She managed to get on easily and without falling, which made her proud of herself. He of course knew his way around the bike. It was a Honda Valkyrie and it was large, covered in black and chrome. It was powerful. She'd never ridden on one that felt so heavy, but he managed it well. She pointed out a direction that would lead them around places on the lake she'd not really been to before. She knew it was a pretty direction and hoped that that would suffice.
She reveled in the air coming at them fast, and the nakedness she felt; exposed to the warmth and sun of the day. No WONDER people liked this so much! She could see the faces and attitudes of people around them, but none of that really mattered. She felt alive in a way she hadn't in a very, very long time.
He was careful with his driving, only occasionally doing things to make her react. He felt her every movement and while he was certainly aware of the area around him, he was also thinking of how he was going to get beneath that innocence. He could tell he had an effect on her, but he wanted to be sure that she knew he wasn't the relationship type, and he told her that. No sense in things getting messier than they needed to be.
He'd never really been good at settling down. There were so many sights to see, women to meet, and he liked the freedom to just go whenever he wanted to. At the same time, if someone ever really rocked his world, he'd just deal with that when it happened. Because it was nice having someone with you every now and then; to go through an experience together. He just wasn't ready for that someone to be the same someone each time. He smiled at the thought. SHE had relationship written all over her.
Finally, they came to an area off the lake that branched off into a myriad of dirt roads. He picked one and began slowly exploring it. This particular one, ended in a circle around a dead tree, in front of a burned out old barn. He stopped and her heart began to beat faster. He told her not to move, and she didn't. He got off, and propped it up. She was surprised that it stayed erect and looked at him coyly as he stood there looking at her. She felt unbelievably exposed right now.
He got back on the motorcycle, facing her. Before she could react, he kissed her. Their kiss was soft again, as the first one had been, with darting, teasing tongues. He drew her out slowly, taking the kiss deeper and then backing off. It grew powerful and more demanding, very expert and pulling reactions from her she wasn't used to.
She began to regain herself a bit, and began to respond more fully and in control. She moved her hands around his head to bring him closer and moved more towards him on the bike. As they explored the taste of each other's mouths, he moved his hands to her legs and moved them up and over his so that they could get closer.
That small movement, took her breath away and she broke their kiss. She looked at him and then down at the two of them a mere couple of pieces of jean material away. It made her head spin. He lifted her chin and then began kissing her again, causing her to circle her legs around him and begin to move in rythym to his movements. She moved harder against him wanting to get closer.
He leaned her back slowly and began exploring more of her with his hands. She was breathless and on fire and felt wanton in this open, exposed place. They teased and touched and tasted as much as they could there in front of that old barn. It felt wild, freeing and absolutely intoxicating. She opened herself up completely to the experience, and allowed herself every sight, smell and texture he gave her. But even a chemistry this powerful, had to end.
He wanted her. There was no doubt about that. She'd proven to be more than he'd imagined and was having a hard time controlling himself. The ways she moved and moaned against him, her hands finding places on him that made him want her even more. And then, the willingness and responsiveness was mind blowing. But it was getting late. They were out in the middle of no where and he had a long drive home. It was sadly, time to end this.
So, as hard as it was he pulled away, righted himself on the bike, and they rode back towards the coffee shop. It was quite a ride home. Every nerve ending she had was on edge. He'd stirred her up in ways she wasn't sure she'd ever been stirred before. His thoughts were filled with all the ways he wanted her. He liked feeling her behind him. With all they'd just shared, he was extremely aware of every bit of contact her body had with his. It made his thoughts race.
They arrived a little worse for wear at the coffee shop again, quite the spectacle. She, windblown with sunkissed skin, and he just as dominating a persona as before. They were quite the picture, and caught a few stares.
He walked her to her car and then whispered in her ear, "I will have you." kissed her, thanked her and walked away. She shakily got into her car and tried to process through all that had occurred in such a short amount of time. She didn't know if she'd ever see him again...or even if she really wanted to. She'd never known anyone remotely like him, and wasn't sure she would know what to do with all that he was. She did know one thing for certain, though. Her perceptions of people were far more acute after that day.
***We've all had a date or two that totally took us by surprise. Sometimes in how awful it was, and sometimes in just the unusualness of it. Sometimes, it was just plain FUN, but nothing ever came of it. All of these things make up the fabric of who we are, and help us put together the pieces of what we are really looking for. So here's my example, again with a little bit of me and a little bit of an actual date I had a pretty long while ago. Have you had one that stood out to you recently or even NOT so recently?? Sometimes even in dating we lose the color we need to really consider it living. Occasionally, there is one that comes along that sort of awakens you, and makes you realize that there IS more out there...Tell me about your experience like that.
It was an unusual August day in Texas; sunny and only a mild 75 degrees. It was a perfect day to ride and a perfect day to finally meet this woman. She'd piqued his interest because she radiated sex; not in an overt way, but it was there just below the surface. She also didnt' strike him as a mindless drone, which was always a plus. She was a little on the "good girl" side for his usual tastes, but he knew that he'd enjoy banishing that image completely from her if she gave him the chance. That was part of her charm; that mixture of innocence and sexual heat. It made him curious to taste what she was made of.
She was relaxed and loving this day. It was beautiful and finally, well below 100. She hated it when it was too uncomfortable to be outside. She loved the feel of the light breezy wind and the sounds of the lake in the distance. She liked living here and crossing that bridge at the end of every long day in the city; leaving that flurry of frantic activity behind for the easy, slow pace of the towns across the lake. Wednesday evening's sailboat races were one of her favorite sights to see on her way home. There was something powerfully beautiful in seeing them fly through the water so quickly, wind driving them forward. She sighed. It'd been a long time since she'd felt the water under her like that.
Today, she was meeting someone she'd been talking to here and there online. It'd been an interesting exchange of flirtations, and he was nothing like anyone she'd ever been attracted to before. His profile had been dark with motorcycles and classic music on it. It revealed a strong mind, strong opinion and someone who'd been through a thing or two and who had absolutely no tolerance for stupidity or weak minds. She wasn't entirely sure what brought her here. They didn't have much in common and as a matter of fact, she'd often felt like certain softer parts to her character were irritating to him. So, why was she here today? Because she was curious. He was persistent, and she was intrigued. It'd been a while since she'd gone a little wild, so why not today?
She wore her hair up, with a strapless halter and jeans with sandals. They were going to meet here and decide what to do from there. She went into the coffee shop glancing around, but didn't see him. She stepped up to the counter then, smiled and ordered her usual mocha frappachino and waited, looking around some more. Then she saw him outside, facing away from her, staring out into the day. He looked very confident and relaxed, and suddenly she wasn't so sure that she felt that way anymore.
Wow. He was tall. Even sitting down, it was easy to see that. She picked up on that same mixture of bad boy and intelligence she'd seen online. Her coffee was ready. She paid for it, smiled at the cashier and went outside.
She walked up behind him and touched him on the shoulder and then came around to face him. She might have said "hi", but couldn't remember if she did or not. She did remember that when he stood up, her mouth went dry and her heart raced a bit because the raw sex that flowed from this man was palpable. He invaded her space immediately and leaned in and very, very softly kissed her lips.
She was caught so off guard, she didn't know what to say. No one had ever done that before. It was as if every limb was paralyzed and she could no longer think for herself. She was grateful when he told her to sit down. She didn't know what had come over her but she appreciated that he had the presence of mind to take control and tell her what to do. Whatever her problem was, she'd most certainly lost any control she thought she had over this date.
She sipped at her drink, and looked at him across the table from her. She stretched out her legs and from shin to ankle, touched his leg. It was electric, and he glanced down, then looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled, hidden behind her sunglasses. He took her hand and began stroking it. Neither one said anything until she looked at him and said,
"So?"
"Even better in person."
They sat in silence again after that, feeling the chemistry between them weave back and forth; the two areas in contact with each other, distracting. Finally, he asked her if she wanted to go for a ride? She'd wondered if she'd be up for it or not. It'd literally been YEARS since she'd ridden. But of course that's not what she said. All that came out was, "Sure." She moved to her car and put her purse in the trunk, and then began to remove her sunglasses too.
"Uh, you're going to need those."
"Oh! Okay."
Silly. She should have known that! What was wrong with her? She felt an odd mixture of school girl sheepishness, excitement and ease. So far, this was not at all what she expected.
She managed to get on easily and without falling, which made her proud of herself. He of course knew his way around the bike. It was a Honda Valkyrie and it was large, covered in black and chrome. It was powerful. She'd never ridden on one that felt so heavy, but he managed it well. She pointed out a direction that would lead them around places on the lake she'd not really been to before. She knew it was a pretty direction and hoped that that would suffice.
She reveled in the air coming at them fast, and the nakedness she felt; exposed to the warmth and sun of the day. No WONDER people liked this so much! She could see the faces and attitudes of people around them, but none of that really mattered. She felt alive in a way she hadn't in a very, very long time.
He was careful with his driving, only occasionally doing things to make her react. He felt her every movement and while he was certainly aware of the area around him, he was also thinking of how he was going to get beneath that innocence. He could tell he had an effect on her, but he wanted to be sure that she knew he wasn't the relationship type, and he told her that. No sense in things getting messier than they needed to be.
He'd never really been good at settling down. There were so many sights to see, women to meet, and he liked the freedom to just go whenever he wanted to. At the same time, if someone ever really rocked his world, he'd just deal with that when it happened. Because it was nice having someone with you every now and then; to go through an experience together. He just wasn't ready for that someone to be the same someone each time. He smiled at the thought. SHE had relationship written all over her.
Finally, they came to an area off the lake that branched off into a myriad of dirt roads. He picked one and began slowly exploring it. This particular one, ended in a circle around a dead tree, in front of a burned out old barn. He stopped and her heart began to beat faster. He told her not to move, and she didn't. He got off, and propped it up. She was surprised that it stayed erect and looked at him coyly as he stood there looking at her. She felt unbelievably exposed right now.
He got back on the motorcycle, facing her. Before she could react, he kissed her. Their kiss was soft again, as the first one had been, with darting, teasing tongues. He drew her out slowly, taking the kiss deeper and then backing off. It grew powerful and more demanding, very expert and pulling reactions from her she wasn't used to.
She began to regain herself a bit, and began to respond more fully and in control. She moved her hands around his head to bring him closer and moved more towards him on the bike. As they explored the taste of each other's mouths, he moved his hands to her legs and moved them up and over his so that they could get closer.
That small movement, took her breath away and she broke their kiss. She looked at him and then down at the two of them a mere couple of pieces of jean material away. It made her head spin. He lifted her chin and then began kissing her again, causing her to circle her legs around him and begin to move in rythym to his movements. She moved harder against him wanting to get closer.
He leaned her back slowly and began exploring more of her with his hands. She was breathless and on fire and felt wanton in this open, exposed place. They teased and touched and tasted as much as they could there in front of that old barn. It felt wild, freeing and absolutely intoxicating. She opened herself up completely to the experience, and allowed herself every sight, smell and texture he gave her. But even a chemistry this powerful, had to end.
He wanted her. There was no doubt about that. She'd proven to be more than he'd imagined and was having a hard time controlling himself. The ways she moved and moaned against him, her hands finding places on him that made him want her even more. And then, the willingness and responsiveness was mind blowing. But it was getting late. They were out in the middle of no where and he had a long drive home. It was sadly, time to end this.
So, as hard as it was he pulled away, righted himself on the bike, and they rode back towards the coffee shop. It was quite a ride home. Every nerve ending she had was on edge. He'd stirred her up in ways she wasn't sure she'd ever been stirred before. His thoughts were filled with all the ways he wanted her. He liked feeling her behind him. With all they'd just shared, he was extremely aware of every bit of contact her body had with his. It made his thoughts race.
They arrived a little worse for wear at the coffee shop again, quite the spectacle. She, windblown with sunkissed skin, and he just as dominating a persona as before. They were quite the picture, and caught a few stares.
He walked her to her car and then whispered in her ear, "I will have you." kissed her, thanked her and walked away. She shakily got into her car and tried to process through all that had occurred in such a short amount of time. She didn't know if she'd ever see him again...or even if she really wanted to. She'd never known anyone remotely like him, and wasn't sure she would know what to do with all that he was. She did know one thing for certain, though. Her perceptions of people were far more acute after that day.
***We've all had a date or two that totally took us by surprise. Sometimes in how awful it was, and sometimes in just the unusualness of it. Sometimes, it was just plain FUN, but nothing ever came of it. All of these things make up the fabric of who we are, and help us put together the pieces of what we are really looking for. So here's my example, again with a little bit of me and a little bit of an actual date I had a pretty long while ago. Have you had one that stood out to you recently or even NOT so recently?? Sometimes even in dating we lose the color we need to really consider it living. Occasionally, there is one that comes along that sort of awakens you, and makes you realize that there IS more out there...Tell me about your experience like that.
Living Life and Moving On
It'd now been almost a full year since the divorce, and more than that since the separation. She could still vividly remember finding that half-filled whiskey bottle in his tool closet in the garage. It was the day she realized her danger. She'd blown it off before then, as angry outbursts, meanness even. But she'd been so unwilling to look harder and closer. She remembered the near death road rages with her and her young son in the car, the sledge hammered cell phone that had a recording of the spittle-filled verbal onslaught to her face she'd just undergone earlier that evening. It made her stiffen to remember those times. But they were over now. She sighed and relaxed her shoulders.
Those first few forays into the whole dating arena had been quite the learning experience. She'd been out of it for so long; how did people DO this thing?? The hardest part was weeding through the lies. Not that there were many of those, but there were certainly a few. And gaining intimate knowledge of Ruffies and date rape were not things she expected. Vague memories of locations and the flash of a camera made her shiver. Who knew what was out there of her? It made her take her time and life far more seriously...and she became much more careful and hesitant to let someone in right away. But time lessoned even those scars.
Lots of occurrances. Lots of experiences and lots of lessons learned. She'd emerged not too broken and shattered. Although the recent loss of a very dear and important friend had knocked a bit of her breath from her, it'd been worth it. Damn the cancer anyway! Cancer is a horrible thief that steals much from many, but this time it was stealing away something personal and precious to her. Her friend; amazing and strong though he was...was finally losing the battle. And she couldnt' talk and banter his way through it anymore. He was out of reach. But still..she'd remember their time together as some of the best she'd had with any friend.
Recently though, she'd begun to feel a bit more sure of herself. That feeling that she was worthless and ugly, had been left behind like old rags discarded in the trash. New life, new friends and new experiences had taught her much, and she was really beginning to enjoy meeting people and exploring the possibilities.
She'd also rediscovered how absolutely sexual she was. She wasn't entirely at ease internally with herself over it...still had remnants of church teachings and that persistent empty feeling that can come from making a poor choice here and there. But overall, she was comfortable with who she was and where her life was going. It was fun to relax and be herself and finally live and taste much that life had to offer. And the tastes were both varied and exciting.
And then she met him. He was tanned and strong, with blue eyes that seemed gentle yet persistent. His photos could look like an empty-headed gym jock, and she giggled remembering thinking that when he first said hello. She almost didnt' reply to his queries. But there was something about his eyes...and the way his words to her, seemed very honest and simple. He was exploring also. Broken a bit by a hurtful marriage, but determined to see what life post divorce had to offer. He seemed to be in a similar place of self-discovery as was she. Looking, asking questions...feeling his way around. She built up confidence and trust enough to allow him to call.
They talked for hours. Learning about each other, questioning, answering and discussing life in general on many levels. Her lower registered soft voice with a slight drawl, to his pure Chicago bad boy voice, were quite the contrast. And their words danced their dance until it became a daily event that both looked forward to with anticipation.
And there was an attraction...oh yes. The more she saw him through his words, the less she was even aware of the jock image..and he began to see her as the rare find in a woman that she was. She began to be playful and coy and he was having none of it. He drew her out. Made her take chances by the questions he asked and the flirtations he showered her with. It was very artful, the way he spoke. Art without pure intent, although that was there too..but mostly, because he wanted to know everything about her. He was deciding in his mind whether to pursue this or not.
He made his decision and began the long drive across the US to visit her. They talked as he drove. She planned what they would do and both began to get excited over the possibilities. The attraction continued to grow. There were a few playfully, naughty moments along the way...his voice wooing her into a frenzy of foreplay, as she bantered right back and did the same for him. It was exhilerating and fun and wow! She felt so sexy and alive.
At the same time, she began to battle those insecurities she'd been left with after her marriage deteriorated. Feelings she was boring, not interesting enough, not pretty enough, began to press at her. She pushed those aside over and over, finally banishing them on a shopping trip with her neighbor as she chose the outfit for their first meeting. It was fun; she had a blast at the store with her neighbor and her girls and all left the store feeling girly, playful and fun.
They met and there was electricity from the beginning, but he was careful not to allow it to get out of hand on his end. He knew she'd been through some things and was mindful of that. Plus, he'd had his own experiences which meant that he would only allow himself so much physical leeway. They smiled, hugged and went to his room for a small visit before heading out. There was at that time, only one introductory kiss which was soft and seductive with lips barely coming together and tongues lightly exploring hello. She felt herself being drawn in but he stopped things in deference to their newness with each other, and they left for dinner.
The restaurant was elegant and casual, with a south american feel and torches burning over the patio and was on a lake with the sun glinting off waves as they walked up. The food was flavorful and their conversation still came with all the ease it had from the beginning. Back and forth they weaved their live's tales for each other; his of his hurts from his marriage and subsequent healing and her some of the same. They had the comfort as if they'd known each other a while, and the sexual tension of two people who've just met but are strongly attracted to each other. She kept thinking of their kiss and wanted to feel his lips again..and he was lost in whatever story he was telling her. Silly man. She smiled and chuckled to herself. She wanted to distract him a little. She couldn't exactly explain why. But she did. She wanted to be HIS distraction.
So they picked a movie, which didn't start for a bit, and she showed him around her area. They drove along the neighborhoods on the lake's coastal line and still talked easily. They made it back to the theater and got their giant popcorn and sodas and found a perfect seat for two, with no one else on either side. They settled in with her glancing every so often at him in the dark and he doing the same. They were close now, she holding his arm; he was surprised she'd asked. Their hands playfully exploring each other. He glanced over once and couldn't look away. She happened to catch his look, and realized it was lower than her face.
She wore a black vest with a white, button-up blouse which was left open more than one or two buttons. Underneath, she wore this red and black bra that was a favorite of hers and as she followed his eyes, she realized that particular article of clothing was exposed and along with it, the white curve of the top of her breast. She gasped a bit and closed it..at first. But it happened again..and then she decided oh what the hell!! Let him look! She allowed herself to steal a kiss or two then, as quid pro quo for the look HE got! It was soft again, not pushing, not pressing, but still exploring and still controlled. It was intoxicating to her. She wanted more.
So after the movie, they decided to pick up some snacks and drinks and went back to where he was staying. It was a place on the lake, but without a view of it from where he was. Still, you could hear it and the wind stirring up the waves in the distance. It was a calming and exhilarating sound all at once.
They sat and talked; he kept a careful distance for a long time. Finally, he came over by her, still talking, but there was something in his look. She felt it too..but because he was being so careful, she decided to be less so and kissed him again. This time, there wasn't the control at the same level as it'd been...he wanted to let go, but didn't want to hurt her. He wanted her, and kissing like this was not making it easier.
He asked if she was sure, and she said, "Of course you should continue kissing me." Smiling and chuckling and deliberately ignoring his real question. She deepened the kiss and he allowed it. Then caught another glimpse of the breast he'd seen before and he decided to take over.
He began seeking and exploring the openness of her shirt with more directness. Sliding fingers over and around..finding tips and crevices and spending equal time with both. She arched her back to his touch and moaned through the kisses and began to tremble because it'd been so long. And for a time, his mouth left hers and went to her blouse, finding the trails his hands had left behind. She was quickly becoming lost in the scent and sensations of him..and he climbed on top of her. There was nothing forceful or confining in anything that he did. It was deliberate, but natural--his movements with her. And she moved against him too, her passion growing, but now she was trying harder to hold back. He sensed this and moved off of her. But the coldness and emptiness he left behind was more than she wanted to deal with.
She moved over to him and got on top of him. She kissed him harder and pressed fully against his bare chest and began to move in rythym over him. Her jeans were getting warmer, and her breathing came faster. He reached for her then, to a more private area. His teasings and strokes were felt even through the thick material of her jeans. She exhaled and rolled off of him. Oh GOD, did she really want to do this? But if he continued to touch her like that..well, she wouldn't be able to stop herself.
He was patient as she fought this war with herself, but knew what decision he was hoping for. She was something. So soft and strong, desirable and a bit wild too. He wanted to taste that; to bring that out in her. He wanted to explore her fully with his own body, but it was ultimately up to her. And she succumbed then.
She tasted him and teased him and he played with her and explored her body. They came together in many different ways, with different forces and with different intents. They fit well together and the intensity and power of their attraction caught them both off guard. It was an evening filled with pleasant surprises. Afterwards as he slept, she thought about this whole dating thing. Maybe she'd get the hang of it after all. She smiled to herself and was happy.
Those first few forays into the whole dating arena had been quite the learning experience. She'd been out of it for so long; how did people DO this thing?? The hardest part was weeding through the lies. Not that there were many of those, but there were certainly a few. And gaining intimate knowledge of Ruffies and date rape were not things she expected. Vague memories of locations and the flash of a camera made her shiver. Who knew what was out there of her? It made her take her time and life far more seriously...and she became much more careful and hesitant to let someone in right away. But time lessoned even those scars.
Lots of occurrances. Lots of experiences and lots of lessons learned. She'd emerged not too broken and shattered. Although the recent loss of a very dear and important friend had knocked a bit of her breath from her, it'd been worth it. Damn the cancer anyway! Cancer is a horrible thief that steals much from many, but this time it was stealing away something personal and precious to her. Her friend; amazing and strong though he was...was finally losing the battle. And she couldnt' talk and banter his way through it anymore. He was out of reach. But still..she'd remember their time together as some of the best she'd had with any friend.
Recently though, she'd begun to feel a bit more sure of herself. That feeling that she was worthless and ugly, had been left behind like old rags discarded in the trash. New life, new friends and new experiences had taught her much, and she was really beginning to enjoy meeting people and exploring the possibilities.
She'd also rediscovered how absolutely sexual she was. She wasn't entirely at ease internally with herself over it...still had remnants of church teachings and that persistent empty feeling that can come from making a poor choice here and there. But overall, she was comfortable with who she was and where her life was going. It was fun to relax and be herself and finally live and taste much that life had to offer. And the tastes were both varied and exciting.
And then she met him. He was tanned and strong, with blue eyes that seemed gentle yet persistent. His photos could look like an empty-headed gym jock, and she giggled remembering thinking that when he first said hello. She almost didnt' reply to his queries. But there was something about his eyes...and the way his words to her, seemed very honest and simple. He was exploring also. Broken a bit by a hurtful marriage, but determined to see what life post divorce had to offer. He seemed to be in a similar place of self-discovery as was she. Looking, asking questions...feeling his way around. She built up confidence and trust enough to allow him to call.
They talked for hours. Learning about each other, questioning, answering and discussing life in general on many levels. Her lower registered soft voice with a slight drawl, to his pure Chicago bad boy voice, were quite the contrast. And their words danced their dance until it became a daily event that both looked forward to with anticipation.
And there was an attraction...oh yes. The more she saw him through his words, the less she was even aware of the jock image..and he began to see her as the rare find in a woman that she was. She began to be playful and coy and he was having none of it. He drew her out. Made her take chances by the questions he asked and the flirtations he showered her with. It was very artful, the way he spoke. Art without pure intent, although that was there too..but mostly, because he wanted to know everything about her. He was deciding in his mind whether to pursue this or not.
He made his decision and began the long drive across the US to visit her. They talked as he drove. She planned what they would do and both began to get excited over the possibilities. The attraction continued to grow. There were a few playfully, naughty moments along the way...his voice wooing her into a frenzy of foreplay, as she bantered right back and did the same for him. It was exhilerating and fun and wow! She felt so sexy and alive.
At the same time, she began to battle those insecurities she'd been left with after her marriage deteriorated. Feelings she was boring, not interesting enough, not pretty enough, began to press at her. She pushed those aside over and over, finally banishing them on a shopping trip with her neighbor as she chose the outfit for their first meeting. It was fun; she had a blast at the store with her neighbor and her girls and all left the store feeling girly, playful and fun.
They met and there was electricity from the beginning, but he was careful not to allow it to get out of hand on his end. He knew she'd been through some things and was mindful of that. Plus, he'd had his own experiences which meant that he would only allow himself so much physical leeway. They smiled, hugged and went to his room for a small visit before heading out. There was at that time, only one introductory kiss which was soft and seductive with lips barely coming together and tongues lightly exploring hello. She felt herself being drawn in but he stopped things in deference to their newness with each other, and they left for dinner.
The restaurant was elegant and casual, with a south american feel and torches burning over the patio and was on a lake with the sun glinting off waves as they walked up. The food was flavorful and their conversation still came with all the ease it had from the beginning. Back and forth they weaved their live's tales for each other; his of his hurts from his marriage and subsequent healing and her some of the same. They had the comfort as if they'd known each other a while, and the sexual tension of two people who've just met but are strongly attracted to each other. She kept thinking of their kiss and wanted to feel his lips again..and he was lost in whatever story he was telling her. Silly man. She smiled and chuckled to herself. She wanted to distract him a little. She couldn't exactly explain why. But she did. She wanted to be HIS distraction.
So they picked a movie, which didn't start for a bit, and she showed him around her area. They drove along the neighborhoods on the lake's coastal line and still talked easily. They made it back to the theater and got their giant popcorn and sodas and found a perfect seat for two, with no one else on either side. They settled in with her glancing every so often at him in the dark and he doing the same. They were close now, she holding his arm; he was surprised she'd asked. Their hands playfully exploring each other. He glanced over once and couldn't look away. She happened to catch his look, and realized it was lower than her face.
She wore a black vest with a white, button-up blouse which was left open more than one or two buttons. Underneath, she wore this red and black bra that was a favorite of hers and as she followed his eyes, she realized that particular article of clothing was exposed and along with it, the white curve of the top of her breast. She gasped a bit and closed it..at first. But it happened again..and then she decided oh what the hell!! Let him look! She allowed herself to steal a kiss or two then, as quid pro quo for the look HE got! It was soft again, not pushing, not pressing, but still exploring and still controlled. It was intoxicating to her. She wanted more.
So after the movie, they decided to pick up some snacks and drinks and went back to where he was staying. It was a place on the lake, but without a view of it from where he was. Still, you could hear it and the wind stirring up the waves in the distance. It was a calming and exhilarating sound all at once.
They sat and talked; he kept a careful distance for a long time. Finally, he came over by her, still talking, but there was something in his look. She felt it too..but because he was being so careful, she decided to be less so and kissed him again. This time, there wasn't the control at the same level as it'd been...he wanted to let go, but didn't want to hurt her. He wanted her, and kissing like this was not making it easier.
He asked if she was sure, and she said, "Of course you should continue kissing me." Smiling and chuckling and deliberately ignoring his real question. She deepened the kiss and he allowed it. Then caught another glimpse of the breast he'd seen before and he decided to take over.
He began seeking and exploring the openness of her shirt with more directness. Sliding fingers over and around..finding tips and crevices and spending equal time with both. She arched her back to his touch and moaned through the kisses and began to tremble because it'd been so long. And for a time, his mouth left hers and went to her blouse, finding the trails his hands had left behind. She was quickly becoming lost in the scent and sensations of him..and he climbed on top of her. There was nothing forceful or confining in anything that he did. It was deliberate, but natural--his movements with her. And she moved against him too, her passion growing, but now she was trying harder to hold back. He sensed this and moved off of her. But the coldness and emptiness he left behind was more than she wanted to deal with.
She moved over to him and got on top of him. She kissed him harder and pressed fully against his bare chest and began to move in rythym over him. Her jeans were getting warmer, and her breathing came faster. He reached for her then, to a more private area. His teasings and strokes were felt even through the thick material of her jeans. She exhaled and rolled off of him. Oh GOD, did she really want to do this? But if he continued to touch her like that..well, she wouldn't be able to stop herself.
He was patient as she fought this war with herself, but knew what decision he was hoping for. She was something. So soft and strong, desirable and a bit wild too. He wanted to taste that; to bring that out in her. He wanted to explore her fully with his own body, but it was ultimately up to her. And she succumbed then.
She tasted him and teased him and he played with her and explored her body. They came together in many different ways, with different forces and with different intents. They fit well together and the intensity and power of their attraction caught them both off guard. It was an evening filled with pleasant surprises. Afterwards as he slept, she thought about this whole dating thing. Maybe she'd get the hang of it after all. She smiled to herself and was happy.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
No Longer Lost
The GBE is a group of bloggers who write on an agreed upon topic each week. This week it is “Alone”. Here is mine. It’s another part of my story…even if you are not particularly religious, I hope you enjoy it. It really happened. I’ll never forget it.
The young woman arrived in a new place so different from where she grew up. There were trees, there was snow sometimes. It looked like a beautiful Christmas card as she drove up to HER new place. Wow. She was here. She’d wanted to be here, ever since she was a small girl living in the Texas heat. She’d visited Asheville and fell in love with the Blue Ridge Mountains; the granite and sparkling mica rocks, the crisp air and the fall leaves, the smell of the early fall morning fog. It felt like home, as no other place had.
She’d been on her own for some time. She wasn’t particularly happy with where her life and her choices had taken her so far. She felt like she was living in a walking shell of anger. Always waiting to explode. So alone in her thoughts. She would only share versions of herself. Never the real thing, because that was just too ugly. She carried the scars of bitterness and self deprecation wherever she went. Anyone who tried to use her, was justified. Because she knew that there was inherently something wrong with her. There must be for those things to keep happening to her. But also because men thought it was okay to ask her for things. Things only prostitutes do. It was the only thing she felt she could do well. Sex. And she would. Do them.
Then, at work, someone noticed something inside her she never saw. Value. This person took the time to introduce her to another girl at work that lived near her. When they met she felt all her scars, and shrunk back inside at the obvious happiness and bright joy this new friend exuded. It was fascinating and horrifying all at the same time. It highlighted to the young woman, how different she was. She showed her the “strong, successful” persona. Pretended to be bright and happy herself.
Later that day, she went to her new home. A little furniture, quiet. Her answering machine empty. She settled in for an evening alone and when a couple of people did call…she shrank back from answering them. She never understood exactly why. This was her cave right now, and she wanted to be alone. Sometimes it was exhausting to be outgoing. She wanted to be alone every bit as much as she wanted to answer that phone and feel the contact. She wanted that. But she felt so faulty. Sometimes, it paralyzed her.
She’d always answered if it were one of the men though. Always. They always wanted something sexual from her, and she always provided. Sex had become something she just did without thinking; without feeling. She’d become hardened to it. It made her feel powerful and needed. Afterwards, she felt empty and worthless. She never acknowledged the after. It was her life. She’d come here reaching for a new life, but her old one followed her here. And she felt helpless to change that. She was this way and this was all she’d ever be. Happiness was something so foreign to her..even in the best relationships, she’d always felt like a part of her heart was broken. Only able to feel to a certain point. Never able to fully warm up. Never able to see past her scars to them. Her viewpoint was rarely hopeful and she firmly believed that anything that seemed good would not last. And it didn’t. Of course she was partly responsible for that. And the negative voices that plagued her would use that against her too.
But she allowed this new friend in. She found herself agreeing to things that made her cringe inside. Agreed to go to church with her. She hated churches. Hated the fake people, the polyester and slicked back hair. The judgmental ladies that saw through her façade and into her wounds and made her more acutely aware of them. She’d already been to some others. The first, like the ones at home…but there were portraits of black cardinals on the walls. She’d never seen that. Cool. She was told that perhaps she would be more comfortable at a church in Chapel Hill. This one was primarily African American, but perhaps they could be multiracial. With ONE? She left there astonished that such things existed. She’d seen the movies and read stories. She’d even seen picket lines at one job interview she’d gone on and worried whether or not she’d be hired because of her race. But this was church. Defeat.
She went to another one and not even the different coworker that invited her, said hello. She went in and out. Watched the people talking to each other. Watched the friendships around her and was envious. Hated that time in the service where you had to greet your neighbor. What if no one reached back? She wanted to just sit there and disappear. They did reach out -- sort of. There was a brief, limp contact of hands, with no eye contact and mumbling something about peace. No one would look at her. In this crowd of people, she felt invisible. It was comfortable and uncomfortable all at once. Thank goodness that moment in the service was over. She left without coming in contact with anyone. Not even her coworker.
Then she went to the church the bright, joyful girl invited her to. She arrived with trepidation. No stained glass. Was this really a church? There was that girl coming in from the parking lot. It wasn’t actually her, but it was too late to back down at this point. This girl had that same open, bright look. This one smiled, said hello and walked her in. Then, rather than uncomfortably looking around to see who she could leave her with, she sat with the woman. Introduced her to others. She treated her as if she were a weary traveler who had just come in from the desert needing nourishment and water. It made the woman feel strange. It was surreal. Who WERE these people? There seemed to be happiness all around. How alien. There were different people everywhere. The music wasn’t formal and proper like she’d known growing up. Some of it was African. Some was from the radio, and some was evidently written by the man leading the music. She realized again how different she was. She felt like an alien again. But this time, it wasn’t because anyone couldn’t look at her. It wasn’t because women sized her up as competition or not. It wasn’t because lustful husbands wondered what she’d be like in bed or couldn’t stop looking at her chest, even around their wives. It was because of their joy. She wanted that. But didn’t believe she could have it.
She’d seen churches before. Full of people who were one way on Sunday, and different throughout the week. She waited. She watched them like a hawk. She went to things. Then she would stop because it was overwhelming. But it was also a test. Would the happy people disappear? She kept searching for the chink in their armor. To see the hypocrisy surface. It was a year and a half later before she trusted anyone there. It was a year and a half hearing about God before she had enough hope to begin to reveal who she was..really.
And here she was on the snow, crying and curled up like a fetus. Spewing that ugly black hatred for men she’d been carrying around. It was here on the snow, that all her hatred for her father, the scars left from the abortion, the sex with strangers, the horrible things she’d heard about herself and thought about herself, came out. All that separated her from everyone else. And no one shied away. They listened, even though she was fierce when she was angry. She was taller than these women, yet they were unafraid. They were outside with her and they were cold. Yet they faced her demons with her. The listened without judgment. Some even had knowing looks. Looks that showed empathy. No disgust. No anger. Her hope grew. She got up with her shattered, broken heart and went inside with these women. For the first time ever, in all her 25 years, she didn’t feel alone anymore.
The young woman arrived in a new place so different from where she grew up. There were trees, there was snow sometimes. It looked like a beautiful Christmas card as she drove up to HER new place. Wow. She was here. She’d wanted to be here, ever since she was a small girl living in the Texas heat. She’d visited Asheville and fell in love with the Blue Ridge Mountains; the granite and sparkling mica rocks, the crisp air and the fall leaves, the smell of the early fall morning fog. It felt like home, as no other place had.
She’d been on her own for some time. She wasn’t particularly happy with where her life and her choices had taken her so far. She felt like she was living in a walking shell of anger. Always waiting to explode. So alone in her thoughts. She would only share versions of herself. Never the real thing, because that was just too ugly. She carried the scars of bitterness and self deprecation wherever she went. Anyone who tried to use her, was justified. Because she knew that there was inherently something wrong with her. There must be for those things to keep happening to her. But also because men thought it was okay to ask her for things. Things only prostitutes do. It was the only thing she felt she could do well. Sex. And she would. Do them.
Then, at work, someone noticed something inside her she never saw. Value. This person took the time to introduce her to another girl at work that lived near her. When they met she felt all her scars, and shrunk back inside at the obvious happiness and bright joy this new friend exuded. It was fascinating and horrifying all at the same time. It highlighted to the young woman, how different she was. She showed her the “strong, successful” persona. Pretended to be bright and happy herself.
Later that day, she went to her new home. A little furniture, quiet. Her answering machine empty. She settled in for an evening alone and when a couple of people did call…she shrank back from answering them. She never understood exactly why. This was her cave right now, and she wanted to be alone. Sometimes it was exhausting to be outgoing. She wanted to be alone every bit as much as she wanted to answer that phone and feel the contact. She wanted that. But she felt so faulty. Sometimes, it paralyzed her.
She’d always answered if it were one of the men though. Always. They always wanted something sexual from her, and she always provided. Sex had become something she just did without thinking; without feeling. She’d become hardened to it. It made her feel powerful and needed. Afterwards, she felt empty and worthless. She never acknowledged the after. It was her life. She’d come here reaching for a new life, but her old one followed her here. And she felt helpless to change that. She was this way and this was all she’d ever be. Happiness was something so foreign to her..even in the best relationships, she’d always felt like a part of her heart was broken. Only able to feel to a certain point. Never able to fully warm up. Never able to see past her scars to them. Her viewpoint was rarely hopeful and she firmly believed that anything that seemed good would not last. And it didn’t. Of course she was partly responsible for that. And the negative voices that plagued her would use that against her too.
But she allowed this new friend in. She found herself agreeing to things that made her cringe inside. Agreed to go to church with her. She hated churches. Hated the fake people, the polyester and slicked back hair. The judgmental ladies that saw through her façade and into her wounds and made her more acutely aware of them. She’d already been to some others. The first, like the ones at home…but there were portraits of black cardinals on the walls. She’d never seen that. Cool. She was told that perhaps she would be more comfortable at a church in Chapel Hill. This one was primarily African American, but perhaps they could be multiracial. With ONE? She left there astonished that such things existed. She’d seen the movies and read stories. She’d even seen picket lines at one job interview she’d gone on and worried whether or not she’d be hired because of her race. But this was church. Defeat.
She went to another one and not even the different coworker that invited her, said hello. She went in and out. Watched the people talking to each other. Watched the friendships around her and was envious. Hated that time in the service where you had to greet your neighbor. What if no one reached back? She wanted to just sit there and disappear. They did reach out -- sort of. There was a brief, limp contact of hands, with no eye contact and mumbling something about peace. No one would look at her. In this crowd of people, she felt invisible. It was comfortable and uncomfortable all at once. Thank goodness that moment in the service was over. She left without coming in contact with anyone. Not even her coworker.
Then she went to the church the bright, joyful girl invited her to. She arrived with trepidation. No stained glass. Was this really a church? There was that girl coming in from the parking lot. It wasn’t actually her, but it was too late to back down at this point. This girl had that same open, bright look. This one smiled, said hello and walked her in. Then, rather than uncomfortably looking around to see who she could leave her with, she sat with the woman. Introduced her to others. She treated her as if she were a weary traveler who had just come in from the desert needing nourishment and water. It made the woman feel strange. It was surreal. Who WERE these people? There seemed to be happiness all around. How alien. There were different people everywhere. The music wasn’t formal and proper like she’d known growing up. Some of it was African. Some was from the radio, and some was evidently written by the man leading the music. She realized again how different she was. She felt like an alien again. But this time, it wasn’t because anyone couldn’t look at her. It wasn’t because women sized her up as competition or not. It wasn’t because lustful husbands wondered what she’d be like in bed or couldn’t stop looking at her chest, even around their wives. It was because of their joy. She wanted that. But didn’t believe she could have it.
She’d seen churches before. Full of people who were one way on Sunday, and different throughout the week. She waited. She watched them like a hawk. She went to things. Then she would stop because it was overwhelming. But it was also a test. Would the happy people disappear? She kept searching for the chink in their armor. To see the hypocrisy surface. It was a year and a half later before she trusted anyone there. It was a year and a half hearing about God before she had enough hope to begin to reveal who she was..really.
And here she was on the snow, crying and curled up like a fetus. Spewing that ugly black hatred for men she’d been carrying around. It was here on the snow, that all her hatred for her father, the scars left from the abortion, the sex with strangers, the horrible things she’d heard about herself and thought about herself, came out. All that separated her from everyone else. And no one shied away. They listened, even though she was fierce when she was angry. She was taller than these women, yet they were unafraid. They were outside with her and they were cold. Yet they faced her demons with her. The listened without judgment. Some even had knowing looks. Looks that showed empathy. No disgust. No anger. Her hope grew. She got up with her shattered, broken heart and went inside with these women. For the first time ever, in all her 25 years, she didn’t feel alone anymore.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Who am I really? What will I take from you?
Well if it helps, imagine an intimate dinner party, fire going in the fireplace, wine, food and life discussions all around. There is always light laughter and general enjoyment of everyone's company, hilarious and funny stories, and then there is always someone who starts a topic that takes the conversation to a different and deeper level. I just read "Just Kate"s blog "Beauty from Ashes" http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=367628121&blogID=452743906&indicate=1.
It touched me in a way I didn't expect. It was the start of that deeper conversation at the dinner party.
So, I thought about my life and some of my choices. I wasn't as strong as Kate. I thought of those things that as a person you decide to take, in exchange for what you perceive as love. I tend to fall and have fallen into this state a lot, I think, because I am open to new things, new experiences, new thoughts. I love exploring life, learning about people and am passionate about life in general and my involvement in it. And I can lose myself in it. Forget my value, or my convictions on life and love.
On the flip side, I am fearful also, of all of these things, and occasionally hole up in my cave, like even the best men do, to sort through my life, wounds, and where I've been lately. This weekend has been that type of weekend of sorts, but not entirely. I did go out and see a movie and have a great dinner with a wonderful new friend from here, Richardttu (yes, you) and that was a wonderful diversion from taking myself too seriously. It was great fun and now I've seen the infamous Razoos "Cheers"-like hangout of his, and feel like I've been allowed to see into the fringes of a long term set of friendships. It was neat to feel the energy and curiosity of his friends, and also the energy of their love for him. Thanks Richard!
I also spent some quality time with another friend about whom I've talked here and there to the good and bad...yes, my friend Lee (don't cringe Stephanie). We always have interesting discussions about life, and like it or not, I value the friends we are and the stark differences we have. He keeps my thinking on my toes and challenges the way I see life from time to time. Never a bad thing in my book. Even if he did wear that horrible MILF shirt once..
And then there was even a little bit of Myspace drama. And that spawned the whole trust blog..although, it did not really deal with the actual drama that occurred. That part is truly unimportant. It's really more about the fallout and thoughts that have come up since.
I absolutely believe that there is love. The real thing. Not the Valentimes day marketing version, or the movie, fall-in-love-in-thirty-minutes version either. The real thing. Unmistakeable. Tangeable. Worth it.
It's that place filled with the action of taking care of each other, trusting and working at something you both find precious and miraculous. The place where passion is natural and intimate, where there is effort at real communication and considering the other before yourself. There is the whole unselfish part of it, that makes it deep and unforgetful. There is an uncompromising part to real love. The one that will not allow certain things in to damage it; that recognizes areas of weakness and doesn't entertain them. There is a fierce protection that comes from a deep respect and mutual admiration for each other. Not jealousy. That comes from a selfish need to feed your own ego...insecurity. There is the trust that allows us to be who we are, warts and all and still be valued. Still seen as the gift to each other we never expected to have in this lifetime.
There is that knowledge that even during rough times, you know this person and their level of committment to you. It inspires you to try harder, to be more than you are alone.
There are paler versions of this out there. Illusions of what appears to be love, but once you try it out or on for size, you discover it was nothing but a cheap imitation of the real thing. Or, smoke and mirrors. It seemed to be there and now, it's gone.
But if you really look closely, knowing what love really is; what it looks like, smells like and tastes like, the imposters become easier to spot. And as you become better at spotting them, you're less likely to buy in to what they are selling.
This is true of not only the love between a man and woman, but also the love between friends. I misjudge sometimes, as do we all, for a variety of reasons and human failings. However, for each instance of misguided trust, comes a clearer glimpse at what the real looks like. It becomes a better look at the finished piece and a realization of where I was wrong. Then there is growth and hope, along with the pain.
Each instance of pain becomes less, not because it doesn't hurt, but because it has it's place in life's tapestry of colour. Having that place and knowing its place, makes it just another part of life and less about what's wrong with me.
I realized that once again, I've almost accepted another imposter. An illusion of closeness, but ..under closer inspection, it was one-sided. The appearance of love, but isn't because it only involves the outer trappings, without any of the meat of the real thing. There is time spent together, sharing, and even discussing the future in such ways that don't match up with the emotional depth, or lack thereof.
Sex without the depth of time, committment and love, is just sex. Animals do that. Anyone can, frankly. You can dress it up however you like it, but knowing there is not a hope for a future, and yet acting as if there is a relationship, calling it love or even 'falling in love...is delusional. And it isn't fair for anyone involved. It is a taking from each other, things that haven't been earned and aren't deserved. It's having the perks, without the committment. I realized, I don't want that.
This is a common view of love today. The supposed freedom to live single and sexually uninhibited. Have as many lovers as you like, it'll make you more able to commit later. I don't believe that and I don't really see that as freedom. Giving myself away to people just because it feels good, cheapens a part of me that I value very much. And I don't want to share that part of myself with just anybody. I love sex as much as the next person, but I'd rather do without than waste my time with something shallow and pale. Something without depth. I'd rather hold out for more. Demand more.
I almost forgot my value. I urge you to not forget yours
It touched me in a way I didn't expect. It was the start of that deeper conversation at the dinner party.
So, I thought about my life and some of my choices. I wasn't as strong as Kate. I thought of those things that as a person you decide to take, in exchange for what you perceive as love. I tend to fall and have fallen into this state a lot, I think, because I am open to new things, new experiences, new thoughts. I love exploring life, learning about people and am passionate about life in general and my involvement in it. And I can lose myself in it. Forget my value, or my convictions on life and love.
On the flip side, I am fearful also, of all of these things, and occasionally hole up in my cave, like even the best men do, to sort through my life, wounds, and where I've been lately. This weekend has been that type of weekend of sorts, but not entirely. I did go out and see a movie and have a great dinner with a wonderful new friend from here, Richardttu (yes, you) and that was a wonderful diversion from taking myself too seriously. It was great fun and now I've seen the infamous Razoos "Cheers"-like hangout of his, and feel like I've been allowed to see into the fringes of a long term set of friendships. It was neat to feel the energy and curiosity of his friends, and also the energy of their love for him. Thanks Richard!
I also spent some quality time with another friend about whom I've talked here and there to the good and bad...yes, my friend Lee (don't cringe Stephanie). We always have interesting discussions about life, and like it or not, I value the friends we are and the stark differences we have. He keeps my thinking on my toes and challenges the way I see life from time to time. Never a bad thing in my book. Even if he did wear that horrible MILF shirt once..
And then there was even a little bit of Myspace drama. And that spawned the whole trust blog..although, it did not really deal with the actual drama that occurred. That part is truly unimportant. It's really more about the fallout and thoughts that have come up since.
I absolutely believe that there is love. The real thing. Not the Valentimes day marketing version, or the movie, fall-in-love-in-thirty-minutes version either. The real thing. Unmistakeable. Tangeable. Worth it.
It's that place filled with the action of taking care of each other, trusting and working at something you both find precious and miraculous. The place where passion is natural and intimate, where there is effort at real communication and considering the other before yourself. There is the whole unselfish part of it, that makes it deep and unforgetful. There is an uncompromising part to real love. The one that will not allow certain things in to damage it; that recognizes areas of weakness and doesn't entertain them. There is a fierce protection that comes from a deep respect and mutual admiration for each other. Not jealousy. That comes from a selfish need to feed your own ego...insecurity. There is the trust that allows us to be who we are, warts and all and still be valued. Still seen as the gift to each other we never expected to have in this lifetime.
There is that knowledge that even during rough times, you know this person and their level of committment to you. It inspires you to try harder, to be more than you are alone.
There are paler versions of this out there. Illusions of what appears to be love, but once you try it out or on for size, you discover it was nothing but a cheap imitation of the real thing. Or, smoke and mirrors. It seemed to be there and now, it's gone.
But if you really look closely, knowing what love really is; what it looks like, smells like and tastes like, the imposters become easier to spot. And as you become better at spotting them, you're less likely to buy in to what they are selling.
This is true of not only the love between a man and woman, but also the love between friends. I misjudge sometimes, as do we all, for a variety of reasons and human failings. However, for each instance of misguided trust, comes a clearer glimpse at what the real looks like. It becomes a better look at the finished piece and a realization of where I was wrong. Then there is growth and hope, along with the pain.
Each instance of pain becomes less, not because it doesn't hurt, but because it has it's place in life's tapestry of colour. Having that place and knowing its place, makes it just another part of life and less about what's wrong with me.
I realized that once again, I've almost accepted another imposter. An illusion of closeness, but ..under closer inspection, it was one-sided. The appearance of love, but isn't because it only involves the outer trappings, without any of the meat of the real thing. There is time spent together, sharing, and even discussing the future in such ways that don't match up with the emotional depth, or lack thereof.
Sex without the depth of time, committment and love, is just sex. Animals do that. Anyone can, frankly. You can dress it up however you like it, but knowing there is not a hope for a future, and yet acting as if there is a relationship, calling it love or even 'falling in love...is delusional. And it isn't fair for anyone involved. It is a taking from each other, things that haven't been earned and aren't deserved. It's having the perks, without the committment. I realized, I don't want that.
This is a common view of love today. The supposed freedom to live single and sexually uninhibited. Have as many lovers as you like, it'll make you more able to commit later. I don't believe that and I don't really see that as freedom. Giving myself away to people just because it feels good, cheapens a part of me that I value very much. And I don't want to share that part of myself with just anybody. I love sex as much as the next person, but I'd rather do without than waste my time with something shallow and pale. Something without depth. I'd rather hold out for more. Demand more.
I almost forgot my value. I urge you to not forget yours
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