Thursday, August 28, 2014

Photographs


Nostalgia, melancholy.  I am looking back a bit.  Pictures of myself about 10 years ago, less.  Pictures of my sons.  A few of John. 

Sometimes it is inevitable to look back and consider what if's.  Remembering, seeing yourself, the people you love...remembering and acknowledging what was.  If you don't I believe you can miss what is, what can be, what should never be again.

I can see as well, I think, what others maybe saw. 

Looking back makes me wonder, 'What do others see now?'

I don't want to be what I was ever again.

After my sister stops by with the wrong kind of calculator for my sons AP Calculus and Macro Economics classes I'm going for a long walk with my IPod.  I need to be physical and hopefully my mind will let some of this go.

I want to be better.  I want to live better.  I want to love better.

The Touching Barrier


I'm not sure how to start this, but it's been on my mind. 

After John died I didn't want to be touched.  I had a hard time even being touched by my sons for a goodnight hug.  I remember before he died, there was a time when he and I weren't together, the boys and I would sit on the couch every night.  I'd be in the middle and they'd be cuddled in next to me.  We'd watch a movie and I'd fall asleep sandwiched in-between them.  It was the best feeling in the world.

That time has passed, thankfully.  My sons and I say good morning, and goodnight.  We hug.  We Touch.  My son freaked me out the other day swirling his fingers on top of my head.  It felt like something, like a tarantula, had landed on top of my head.

The best feeling in the world, in its own weird and terrific way.


As I have begun to move into the world of 'dating' I do not encourage touching, even if I am in a place where I crave touch intensely.  

My observation of touch in dating...

I went out on a handful of dates with a man named Don.  After the fourth date, being walked to my car, I was asked for a kiss.  I kissed him.  ... Nothing.  We saw each other again once more. 

The touching barrier had been breached.  On this last date he touched and touched and touched.  He wanted to kiss me over and over.  His rhythm was out of synch with mine, the kiss was nice because touch was nice.  His touch was nice, because being touched was nice.  I didn't really want his touch though. 

When I wanted a day to myself he felt threatened and worried I was cutting him off.  I'd been on the fence.  He made me laugh, he's cute, he's super tall (6'7"), he's nice. 

I'd have still seen him if he'd replied well.  Instead of understanding, instead of saying he understood he worried about himself.  If only he'd said, 'If you change your mind, I'm here' I'd have probably had a cup of coffee, showered and called him.  Instead I moved on.

I've been on a few dates.  I have met some really nice men.  Respectful, considerate, attractive (for who they are).  But no chemistry.  It's interesting though.  I have found that men, if they feel chemistry, think only of how they feel.  Assume it is mutual.  It's like they get blinded to the other person projecting their own thoughts, feelings, wants, desires onto that other person. 

I met a man named Edward.  Adorable, kind, excellent father and hard working man.  He felt a connection, I didn't.  He's respecting me, I appreciate his doing so.  Also, he lives several hours away.

I met another man, Matt.  He's shorter than I am.  I do have a hang up about this and I have often tried to work past it.  He's also a great guy.  Hard working, driven, caring father, considerate.  He's respected my boundaries better than any other man I have met.  He backs off just enough when he understands he's pushed too much.  We like a lot of the same things, we talk easily.  At least we did.

The touching barrier was broken one night.  I went out with him.  He dj's at a few clubs in town as a hobby/second job/he's been doing it forever.  He's quite good.  A guy he co-dj's with took over for a bit.  We sat on a lounge together and talked a little.  He touched my knee with the knuckle of his index finger.  A slight stroke.  He touched me at a time when I was craving touch. 

I can't describe what it is like to be celibate for a long time.  I am nearly going on two years.
There are times sex, desire, want...they don't register.  Then other times, the feeling inside is so intense.  On the outside I cloak myself with normalcy, but inside is something completely different.

That touch was distilled sensation.  It was more than touch.  I could feel him next to me, half a foot apart and I could feel him, smell him.  I was hyper aware.  I didn't want him, but I did.  I feel almost no chemistry with him other than friendship, but this night...different.

The night ended and he walked me to my car.  We kissed.  Nothing awkward.  It was just nice.  Outside of my intense internal sensation the kiss was just nice.  Polite even.

A few days later we met for a glass of wine.  The touching barrier broken he touched me a lot.  My back.  We were sitting next to each other in a small restaurant/bar.  He touched my knees and below my knees as we talked.  It felt wonderful.  I could have closed my eyes and just felt it.  Later that night, after spending time with my friends I stopped by his house.  We talked out front.  He kissed me at my car.  I pushed for more of a kiss.  Deeper, I wanted more...

It just didn't come together and I was okay with that.  It felt good, but missed the mark. 

Since the kiss...well, of course his course has made a slight but significant change of direction.  He doesn't expect, but wants to be, more. 

I don't. I like him, but enough to move forward as anything more than friends? No.  I didn't rush in, and I was interested in him but there are too many little things that don't come together for me.

The touching barrier changes everything.

Such a little thing as holding hands, a polite kiss.  I want more, but it isn't there.  I'm not interested in settling and it seems like things unseen move themselves into place to surround me and block me from things I want but people that are not the right fit.

It's not frustrating, which surprises me.  I know it is naive to put out there, but I hope I can maintain a friendship with Matt.  I am hoping his circumstances (some details I am not putting here) will allow it.  I think his interest in me is as much an escape as it is to some extent genuine.





Monday, August 25, 2014

Breathe In, Exhale Slolwy


I am starting a deep breathing aromatherapy yoga class tonight at 6:30.  It is being taught by a life-coach.

I hope tonight what little I learn helps me feel less crowded.  I am sure my friend will help with that too when I talk to her.

I need to remember my promises to myself.

Breathe in, Exhale slowly.  Truth...patience...

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Rebound



As defined by Urban Dictionary:
Going from one relationship to the next right away to avoid the pain of a breakup. 
 
As defined by Wikipedia:
 A rebound is an undefined period following the break up of a romantic relationship. The term's use dates to at least the 1830s, when Mary Russell Mitford wrote of "nothing so easy as catching a heart on the rebound".[1] The term may also refer to a romantic relationship that a person has during the rebound period, or to the partner in such a relationship. Someone who is "on the rebound," or recently out of a serious dating relationship, is popularly believed to be psychologically incapable of making reasonable decisions regarding suitable partners due to emotional neediness, lingering feelings towards the old partner, or unresolved problems from the previous relationship. Rebound relationships are believed to be short-lived due to one partner's emotional instability and desire to distract themselves from a painful break up, and those emerging from serious relationships are often advised to avoid serious dating until their tumultuous emotions have calmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I am not rebounding.  Though I could have.  I had plenty of opportunity.  I have plenty of opportunity.
Love is the Drug entry was basically a purging of Full Moon Restlessness.  And it's a really good song by Roxy Music.  I also added Heart of Glass by Blondie.  She looks amazing in the video.  It all just fit the mood.

A moment I brought here and highlighted with music.

As for my dating life.  It is so very interesting.  You can say 'interesting' out loud with different inflections and they'd all apply.

I plan to 'date' a bit, but there's no one that has really appealed to me in any overall way.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Oh Oh, Catch That Buzz...Love Is The Drug



Heart Of Glass


Off balance.  I am off balance.  I could spin around and around on a wire, arms splayed out as a smile drifts over my face.  Stepping down is like standing on marbles. I can't stand it, and everything is grasping at air for purchase.  Heart rate increases, my torso tenses and it spreads out over my body.

I fall.  I always fall.  Tumbling down Rabbits hole, my skirt rising up to hide my face.

My hands fly up to grasp at fabric, skirt down and hair in my face I'll stand defiant and ask you why it's all monochromatic.

A touch would shatter me, even a damn smile...shatter into color and light.

Stay back because you can't handle this.







Monday, August 4, 2014

Offensive One, Offensive Two


Dan, 54, Christian...I Grow On People.


Often people treat that with Lotramin.

Starbucks mid-afternoon.  I have to take responsibility for this as I didn't really scrutinize his profile.  I guess early on I assumed when you put down age parameters men will look at them just enough to avoid rejection.  They do not.

Oh, and the Christian part.  Look, no offense to people of religion out there, but I am not interested.  I put Non-Religious for a reason.  Been there, done that.

Dan arrives and lets me know out of the gate, "Wow, you're really gorgeous.  Very pretty."
Thank you.
My first thought, Ohhhhhh no.  No, no, no.

I'd checked his profile again just before we met and saw his faith descriptor.  So as we went in to get my tea and his desert coffee drink I asked him, 'So you go to church?  Which one?'   He told me.  I know it.  It's very active in the community which I admire, but the few people I have run across from there sort of creep me out.

So we sit outside, a rare comfortable day in our usual summer oppression.  We talk a little and I find myself beginning to pepper in curse words and I realize even my subconscious wants to become unappealing to this man.

He is working hard to let me know he's loaded and retired and free to pursue entrepreneurial interests, such as making t-shirts perhaps.  That he plans to move to the coast in three years.

If I were a gold digger, he'd have found his arm candy.  However, I am NOT.  I was uncomfortable.

He mentioned if a movie is r rated, kids, meaning teen aged kids, shouldn't be allowed to watch it.  Another strike against me! Darn it.

 We talked a bit about online dating and he said that some women's profiles were a curiosity to him, that women in their 40's and getting into their 50's, their bodies start to change and they seem to get desperate.  That my pictures were decent enough (gee, thanks dad considering they are head shots and I am clearly fully clothed) but that other women have cleavage and then complain that they get a lot of sexual messages.

I wanted to point out that he seemed a little desperate and utterly out of shape, but I'm not a bitch so I just let him keep digging his own grave, because I handed him the shovel with my 'Let Her Eat Soap' dirty mouth.

At the end of the date he let me know he was going to ask me something, and that he was just curious, and to not be offended.  I already didn't care.  He mentioned my cursing and asked why I do it.

I said, I'm not offended at all, more than likely it is a bad habit.  Every once in a while I control it, but sometimes I feeel it is more than appropriate for certain situations.  **Like This One**

He said his daughter asked him, 'Dad.  Dad can't I Pleeeeeeez start saying the 'S' word?!'  He smugly explained to me it is not The 'S' word, but that it was suck, because he explained to his kids that even suck was a bad word...

I think I responded with, a Blank Stare.
This was on the heels of him telling me his daughter is just like her mother, his ex-wife.

What a Gem. Dan? Have you ever considered maybe 'I'm a control freak ChristianMingle.com'? 

So, what the Fuck was he thinking?  He'd appeal to me with his money and then help me find religion and stop cursing and life would be just be creepy clouds and G rated fun?

I think he was thinking that, and he let me know that I should really let him get to know me, that he grows on people.

I was grateful to get in my car, drive away, go buy pastries and a strawberry pie, drive home to pick up my corrupted sons, and then have bbq at my dysfunctional sinner friends house.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

And Just Like That...


I let it go.

Thanks to two friends, one in particular. 

Learn from it and let go. 

I guess that is it for now...

Friday, August 1, 2014

Be Merciful


The other night a storm came crashing over my home.  It was 3:30am.  What initially woke me was the lightening flashing again and again.  My eyes opened to my bedroom window.  Then thunder cracked and rolled and I felt it go right through me.  That was all it took for me to be fully awake.  I continued to watch the lightening remembering that time it hit the parking lot one hundred feet away from me when I worked at the hospital.  I then remembered body surfing in the ocean and how powerful the waves were.  Nature can make a person feel very small.

Then I heard it.  The rain.  I got out of bed and walked to my window and looked out.  It was sheeting down and I thought, if this were somewhere out in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico there would be a flash flood.  I walked into the kitchen and looked out at the flashing sky and hearing the rolling thunder and watching the rain and the rain gutters fully flooded with water pouring out onto the ground and the water flowing over the sidewalk and pavement.

I opened the sliding door to smell the rain.  The humidity wrapped itself around me and poured into my lungs all heavy and wet.  It was hot outside.  Eighty five degrees.

I went back to bed hoping to recover something of the night before the morning came.  I eventually drifted off thinking about lightening striking the body and the fern pattern it leaves behind in the flesh.

The morning was broodingly overcast and the sun was working its way through.  The temperature rose quickly from the night, but for a few minutes I'd opened my doors and windows anyway just to let the smell in.

There is a storm inside of me.  Flashing lightening, the crack and boom of thunder, the rain can be soft and misting lifted by a breeze or it can shower down, sweeping away the gathered dust of long summer days with no end.

The lightening and thunder can not be harnessed, neither can the rain in the sky.  It can only be experienced from safely inside, or dared to be felt...elemental, powerful, unpredictable at its peak, gently touched as it fades leaving the clouds fingering the clearing sky.

There is a time to every season.  Perhaps this is not the season I believed it to be.