It is when you stop looking that you find what you’re looking for.
What they don’t say is how often the person you were looking for is so often in a bad place or sees you as just a friend.
Or you found them and can’t hold on to them. Hold too tight like a drowning victim to a life preserver; It pops out beyond your reach ejected like a missile, an opposing force to your need. Hold too lightly and they slip past you like trying to grasp mist.
Then where are you left? Back at the beginning, how do you stop looking when you were that close. You don’t. You renew your efforts and end up adrift. A vessel without safe harbor.
You find people who are almost but not quite. Not because they are not seemingly great, but because they can’t accept something about you. You’ve fought your way through the competition and distinguished yourself as a champion but nah, your nose is crooked, you’re not what I thought you were, you aren’t enough in some way.
Denied entry from the outset due to some, to you, superficial slight. What are you left with? What do you do?
Thought this year, heralded by a storm would be my year.
And it was for a time
Walking in roses and wine
And works rhyme
All moving together in 4/4 time
Beautiful and crystalline
Sun exposure revealing it all
Composed of lattice steel
Held together by the thinnest framework
Of flaked snow
The chance meeting of point to point stemming the fall
Gravity pulling it and me down
The slow, inexorable crash of hopes beginning
It all began so beautifully
The first day I saw Michael he looked at me across the cubicles, green eyes sparking heat, black hair curling at the tips framing sharp cut glass cheekbones and soft full lips. I think my eyes lingered a bit too long and he walked over, invitation given but not consciously intended.
He spoke in a soft rasp, bedroom voice thrust full into the daylight, all the more attractive for it being out of place. “Do you always stare at the new hires?”
I froze, temporarily unable to speak. My mind consumed with the flash of his lips on mine.
I stammered “Sor..Sorry?”
He replied wryly, “Are you not sure you should apologize or not sure what you’re apologizing for?”
“How about this, I’ll come back when you’re less flustered and we’ll start over.”
He turned and walked away, smooth like silk on skin. Strutting out causing the muscles in his ass to clench and pulse.
I muttered under my breath, “Small chance of that.”
Is there some grand gesture I could make that would convince her that I’m worth a second chance? Or are we talking restraining order territory? Who do I ask about this stuff?
I could ask one of my sexual companions, but I’m their comfort not vice versa. I’ve tried going down that road and lost what we Did have.
Should I ask Erica, the last person I had a relationship with? But no, wouldn’t work. I love her and she loves me but we’re not friends. Not any more.
So who do I ask? I suppose I ask you. Sad but you’re my confessor and councilor. .
When I wake from an incredibly detailed dream, wherin I kissed a man with a trimmed beard, it looked good on him. But what woke me was the taste of the Marlboro red double fine that he mixes with menthol and rerolls and the sensation that I got a beard hair stuck in between my teeth.
So I wake up, alone in my bed. I want someone to hold me as I hold them. I think what can I do to chance another chance? Anything, something? But no, my councilor is silence and I’m alone.
Whatever you want from me, I won’t see
I constructed my world to compensate for my lack of vision
I want to see, I do
But I’m oblivious.
I can see hierarchies and weaknesses, I can tell you within hours, if not minutes the character of someone I meet.
But you, I can’t see you.
Say something, please, say something
I’m blind when my own heart is on the line
When you walked away
I was elated
an existence abated and full
When you walked away
it was simple
you didn’t want me
no other answer needed
When you walked away
my choices made for me
my hopes lost in dreaming
Intensity and honesty
When when you walked away
i crowed it to the heavens
and decried the only faults I could
used as leverage
to a bruised heart
When you walked away
I am pains’ pleasure and loves demise
A heart full of longing
Engorged, enraptured by carnality
Each night a new twist, a new flick, a new chain
Buried in it, burning in it
Knowing it diminishes me
Holding out, saying no
Until the only answer is yes
Yes, fill me with your scent, musk and sweat, sandalwood and smoke
Yes, drown me in skin, hands and lips, tongue, seeking, hot, wet and unerring
Yes, flick the lash, bind me tight
Let the burn of aching dissolve the ache
Submit to me our submission
Little is forbidden and limits are for the weak
Until I’m drifting, we’re drifting
Until release but no relief
Just a dull emptiness
I’m gone, you’re gone by morning
And I’m still empty
Not tonight, not again
The lies we tell ourselves.
Silent in my soul
Drinking bloody concoctions
Mixed in a alchemists dream
Hedged in by fire
Wanting the burning to end
Resistance but my bags are packed
Deliberate steps into the trap
And dreams release
Taunted on all sides
Unable to escape
No home or safe harbour
The terribleness of freedom
Brought to the depths just for me
So the previous two posts were obviously about someone. And a situation I horribly mishandled, but I’m actually relieved.
I hate Disneyland. Absolutely hate it. It perpetuates a false image of innocence on the backs of all of the Disney Princesses. Sleeping Beauty, original story, the “prince” rapes this 13 year old girl in a coma and she wakes up from giving birth. The other stories are all equally horrible.
Plus the Mussolini style rules and regulations for working there, creeps me out.
And yes, I went terribly overboard with the texting. I didn’t know what was happening and no offense to people who are cool with not hearing from someone for days, but that is nuts. And I did go a little crazy, shifty guy in the corner crazy. But no communication of any kind for the better part of a week, I’m gonna go a bit nuts.
Now if it were a call me at 2 am relationship, no contact for a week, whatever. Or a “I work 80 hour weeks and sometimes I just want to be spanked and held”, again no issue. But a actual emotional relationship, I feel it requires communication. Maybe that makes me old fashioned.
I don’t know. And I really don’t, too many of the first 2 varieties skews your sense of what works in other situations.
Back to my main point, I feel relieved. While I’m OK with pretty much anything and you can’t shock or make me uncomfortable, we should have some points where our passions meet up.
I guess I’m a Gomez and Morticia Adams type of person. I want something that passionate, and that strange and wonderful. So I’m just a man waiting for my Morticia, or my Gomez, or both. I’m open to it, as long as there’s love.
I find it hard to write right now
I feel weighed down
Like I’m walking under water
Though it may be that a karmic debt is paid
I once ended a relationship by cutting off communication
I was selfish and capricious
And about a year later I realized how horrible I had been.
I Have thought about and regretted it multiple times a week since then
So to have that happen to me feels a bit like karma.
But it doesn’t change anything, I still regret my inaction.
And the emptiness I feel is like a Phantom limb. You know it’s not there, but you can still feel it.
I guess thats where the metaphor breaks down. Because I still want to hear from you. Still want there to be something there when you clearly feel it’s not.
Still want to contact you.
I’m trying to be mature and let go
But I just want to make some grand gesture like show up at your work with a bouquet of flowers dyed teal and try and sweep you off your feet.
But I won’t because if you truly don’t want me then, I don’t want to make your work awkward. I don’t want you to be unhappy.
Well at least the emptiness is gone.
Note: the emotions in this were real but based on a fallacy. I made a fledgling mistake. Given how long it’s been since I’ve had a standard date, I guess I should have anticipated this. This was no fault of the woman I was courting, for want of a better term, this all happened inside my own skull.