My people hopefully know who they are. But in case they were wondering, this is how I feel.
It’s all I have
And still I avoid it
I feel the pain of waking
And my heart hurting
Hours pass until exhaustion
Until it’s too late
The world is spinning
The day starts
They don’t see
They look at me
Acting like they care
Can’t believe them
So easy to lie
So easy to see
The thing is
I give chances out of the gate
I trust until trust is broken
But broken once
It’s never repaired
Reforged links are never as strong
But here I am putting off what might have saved me
Instead walk in
Wondering if I can save me
But I never have before
Instead lost in my own way
Stumbling for hearts too distant to see me
We run through the darkness
Hoping for light
But when it comes we find our way blind
Making the mistake that sends us back to its lack
They say you have to save yourself
But if I could I would have
I’m just a whispered memory
Lost in false reverie
Fueled by a pain too ephemeral to be embraced
Mounting higher until we break
Funny how it’s all about the money
Spent to survive, to get through the days
Until we break and what’s left?
To walk away
To die starving
Or embrace the eternal dark
The last home
When all other sanctuary is lost
At first the dream was like playing a video game. Like a really immersive rpg. I was rolling through completing objectives when I came to a fire level and I cast a ultra powerful blizzard spell which froze the entire world. This was all taken from bits and pieces of my last couple of days. For instance, the blizzard was something I saw on a TV show.
This is where it takes a turn, but still(I’m reading a detective story) consistent. I’m now a sheriff in a small town in the middle of a blizzard but I can still cast spells.
I think all of this is just framework until she steps into frame. I can’t describe her because she’s always been there, if that makes sense. We are working on a case and at some point we begin joking and we are forced to go on the run. But before that I mention burial rituals of South American indigenous people having similarities to what we were doing (burying her uncle so that he mummified, I don’t know…dreams) and she looks at me, like really looks and I see her and only her and I exist. We walk off the dig site and it is several months later and we are in a mall or gallery? There are kiosks but also it’s a college campus? Anyway, she pulls me into a kiss then asks who this woman down the way is who is looking at us in horror and tears.
I turn around and it’s an ex of mine. Actually someone I had almost married. (all of which knowledge seems to burst into my mind, having not known it before the moment I needed to)
I say that’s my ex, and I’m kinda pissed because the way she’s acting it’s like I betrayed her when she’s the one who left me. I say, She dumped me pretty quickly when she found out that I don’t want kids.
And I looks at this woman I’m now dating and I see the disappointment in her eyes. Then there is shooting and we are running again and I’m explaining while we run my reasons and she says, can we just put that discussion on pause until the crisis is over? We will figure it out together.
All the while I’m babbling that I might change my mind but I’ve never heard an argument which would counter my own beliefs and she looks at me with a wicked smile and says no worries, I already have kids and I was just worried you would reject me because of that, and I’m baffled because, the answer is of course that doesn’t bother me.
And it just clicked, like duh, this is what is needed. Someone willing to fight for us, who wants to explore and learn and change. Not someone who leaves at the first sign of trouble. Someone willing and wanting to have these discussions even though we are both vulnerable and maybe going to be hurt.
Then we hop in a gunship and flying out of there while under fire and I send someone whose been with us for awhile but in the background to man the .50 cal.
Then I wake up
I have this dream. Again and again. Where we are entwined naked. We are looking into each other’s eyes and you reach your hand between us and take my cock in your hand. I feel myself harden and grow with your simple touch. You guide my cock slowly into your soft wetness. Slowly, I disappear agonizing and slow. I feel you around me. I dip my head down and press my lips to yours. The touch wakes our need and we devour each other. Tongues sliding over and tasting each other. We exist in these slow agonizing moments of pleasure. My heart, my love, my girl. Until I wake, warm bed. Lost and alone. There is only memories and hopes. Adrift in the world. Looking for that perfect moment of connection. When we are fierce and unafraid. When our only thought is each other. When we belong in the moment. To each other.
When I meet and interact with someone I automatically am taking in their mannerisms. I listen to what they say, how they say it, and the bits of truth they give about themselves in normal conversations which are small and without seeming significance. What I’m consciously and subconsciously doing is building a picture of who the person is. Not just on what they say but what they do, how they move with and through the world.
That’s all ongoing. So when I ask someone out, while I may not know the specifics about the person, I do know them. So it will then seem as if I fall in love quickly. Like “I don’t even know you”, but really I knew enough that I would risk my heart.
I also think that monogamistic thinking plays a role here. In monogamistic thinking, if someone loves you then they are placing you at the pinnacle of their heart with no room for anything else. That’s a scary focal point to be at.
But here’s the thing. I’m poly. And while I may not be with multiple partners being poly is more than a lifestyle choice, at least for me. Like being pansexual, it is a orientation. My brain and thought processes function differently. When I love, yes I love completely, but there is no pinnacle. You are in my heart, surrounded by my love, and while I can be laser focused, it works better when my focus is diffuse.
I suppose what I’m saying is that my thought processes follow patterns which may seem familiar. Ones which may remind you of some past experience. And I won’t say that the experience is wrong, but I will say that when dealing with individuals and not trends, it is better to be aware both of internal bias and the knowledge that false positives will be present.
There comes a point where you realize that the person you want most in your life, won’t be. Much as you may click and even keep in touch, that extra few steps from maybe to yes are just never going to happen. For me that means that I accept what is. If we are friends then I’m all in on the friendship. If we are acquaintances then I imagine we will fade until we are just memories to each other and the occasional birthday wish on social media.
It’s tough realizing the person who was your person will never be the one you hold safe in your arms. Times passing and it seems like you have forever until you wake up and see what behind is more than what’s ahead. Maybe then, you settle. I can’t know. I instead wait. And dream. And write.
I’ll stop hoping but never stop planning. Stop dreaming but never stop the dream. When you glimpse each others hearts, it already too late to back out. Even if you will never be.
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Tara is padding around, fox ears on her head and fox tail sprouting from her butt plug. She is snuffling and sticking her nose into things and generally having a good time. Her small smile says that she loves the game and wants to play.
Sara is staring in unconscious horror at the elaborate off-white dress. One of those flouncy meringue wedding dresses that shops try to sell to the happy and unsuspecting. She looks at me as if I’d lost my mind. I smile back angelically. Fallen angels count, right?
“You can’t be serious,” she states. Her voice empty with shock. Ah, horrible dress therapy, why did I never think of this before?
“Do you not like it? I had it special ordered just for you. I have it on good authority that your father’s second wife wore the exact same dress.”
“His SECOND wife?! You mean the tramp he left my mother for,” her voice rising in incredulity and anger.
“It could have been his third. To be honest, I’ve lost count. I’m sure it’s in a file somewhere. Would you like me to check,” I reply calmly.
Letting out a low groan, Sara turns to me and whines, “Why are you doing this?”
I look at her for a beat. Letting the silence stretch. Then reply, “Your parents deserve to know that you are happy and married. Just like you wanted. If you are wondering why that photo will include Tara nude and being a little fox…then ask yourself this: would you ask her and me to hide who we are? Is that who you want to be be?”
She looks at me and sees the disappointment lurking, waiting for her answer.
I know that she loves us and accepts us. But to expose these kinds of things to her parents is a completely different proposition.
She knows this is a punishment. She knows that I will not harm her. But still, she’s human. And exposure of secrets is one of the hardest things we do. Especially to people whose image of us is in contrast to the truth.
She turns away, eyes cast down. Almost inaudible, I hear her say, “Ok.”
Then she whips back around to me glaring fiercely and proclaims “But I won’t be doing this in that monstrosity. I have my own clothes and I will pick something I deem appropriate.”
I smile, wryly, and say, “Well, it is your day. You have 30 minutes to find a dress and get into it. The makeup artist will be done with us by then.”
I watch the triumph fade to panic then into something like horror. What am planning flies across her face?! Then she’s off like a shot into her closet.
I turn away and go to the hall closet where my tux is kept.
Moments later I hear a shriek and a cry of “Don’t lick that!” coming from Sara’s direction. Then out pranced Tara looking impish and smug.
This is going to be fun.
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Spin you gyre
In flame grown dark
In feast grown cold
Fierce and fury spent
Last raindrops fell
The wind dropped nothing
Pause in held breathe
Waiting in procession
Waiting to take you home