Enough is Enough

He did not cancel. He texted when he was running late. He brought STELLA because he knows already. He brought popcorn...because he read my myspace profile. It was the old fashioned kind and he taught me to pop it in a pot with some oil and shake it over the stove. He brought his favorite seasonings, butter, salt, pepper, raisins and nuts. It was fun. My batch turned out better than his. He matched me drink for drink. We watched Project Runway. We watched will and grace. He drank what i was drinking. (we had one bottle of white and one bottle of red) He told me he was jealous of the coziness of my apartment. He laughed a lot. He made me laugh. He told me about his life. He held my hand....a lot. He kissed me a lot. He finally let me touch his belly even though he is insecure about it. He threw me on the couch and tore my clothes off and then respected my wishes to move slowly. He made penis jokes that weren't too corny. He then stayed another hour longer than he said he would. He complimented my looks. He praised our first date. He asked for another date. He left at 1:50am....It was well worth the over 4 month wait. Well worth it. Even though it never happened again.

Because...

It still was not enough for him.

Seasons Change

It took a lot for me to say what I did. I am not certain it's all the god's honest truth, but in that moment it was what I was feeling, thinking and foreseeing in our possible futures. I guess the reason I blurted it out could be blamed on the hour of the night, or the amount of alcohol I consumed. But, the burning desire to tell you came from a longing to hear you, see you, touch you and a fear of losing you. I couldn't watch someone come in and sweep you away from me. Not only as a jealous "possible" love interest but as your friend. A good friend. I know you so well. He will come in a sweep you away from this life. From this life of shared sodas and music critiques. From this life of twisted arms to venture to the next watering hole or stay even though we are drenched. Do you or anyone else for that matter realize that we abandon so many people for one other person. I know friends til the end, and friendships prevail. But, how can you move forward or on with this new person if I am not a part of it too...at least in some way?

I wished I could sweep all my control issues under the rug and let it all unfold in fate's hands. But, this is who I am. Control. Direction. Constantly in tune. You must know this by now. I wished I didn't care about your choices in life and your future. I wished I did not always think I was right about them. I don't know what's right for you, but for some reason I often think I do. I see things in you that I am not certain you see in yourself. Hence the contrived and manipulative demeanor your sometimes choose to wear. Or, the innocent, confused traditionalist you convince yourself to be.

It's harder now for me to be brushed by your arm. To pretend I never let the words escape. I don't take any of it back. I don't know if any of it is real. I must say, for those tearful, impassioned hours I had some odd sense of hopefulness and self pride. But, now it's harder to look you in the eye. Now, I wonder what it will be like, look like, feel like a year from now.

We will all still be here when this is over. But, don't forget we are here now. We are here to share a soda and have our arms twisted.

Did you get my text?

One should think that over time and experience you would get better at the waiting game that comes with the dating game.

I suck.

In an age of instant gratificatoin and constant communication, we are so used to rapid response. But, I hereby declare never to text again. Let me be more specific. I will, from this point forward, no longer communicate with a boy I am interested in via text until it is undoubtedly clear that feelings are mutual, affections reciprocated, and committement is the goal.

I say that today...then he will text me tomorrow or Sunday and I will crush all that I claim to stand for, out of sheer relief to hear from him, and widdle my thumb and pointer on my keypad in an immediate response.

OY! Men!

my lovely mixed company

visit this site before you ring in the new year....read this post and all the others.

Such thought. Such yearning for one's own life. I love you Joely.

www.mymixedcompany.com

Excerpt from DEC 7th 2007

It is possible to find some kind of God. And I don’t care what people say. There is a way to move, that pushes you to the edge that brings forth a kind of light that you can’t get from a bottle, or a sermon, or a group of people who convince you they know more. Even more than halfway through my night’s share, belly up to my favorite place, I can look across and remember that there was a point when all it took was for me to push my body to feel a certain Light that no thing or place can bring, and all that separates me is an avenue of rushing cars and some fear of being better than I am right now.

Stuff. It sucks.

I can't believe how fast a year goes by. Let alone this last month.
I haven't written because I have been eating, drinking and sleeping.

That's all I do. This is my truth. I do nothing. I do so much that it is nothing. I feel overwhelmed by the everything that is my nothing and the nothing that makes me feel like everything is left.

I said I wouldn't drink tonight. Last night. The night before. I did. I did. I did. And I have excuses for it all. Someone is visiting. It's the holidays. It was stressful at work. I am bored. I am alone. I need something to do. I said I wouldn't sleep in today, yesterday, the day before. I did. I did. I did.

60 year old man on 30 year old skin.

I hate to ramble and ramble on. But this is where I am tonight. Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. I am not so much unhappy as uninvolved. Uninterested.

I think about so many ridiculous things all at once. I will be jotting down some calculation at work while thinking of plucking my eyebrows. I will also be thinking of having sex with an ex while also thinking of trimming my body hair. I will think of exercise while eating something fried. I want to sing when I only have 20 seconds of freedom in a public restroom. I want to cartwheel or skip when I only have three blocks to the train. That bill needs paid. That email needs returned. I should have invested this year. Where is my favorite belt. There are so many thank you cards and notes I should have sent in the past year.

I will never be the same again. But, I am not certain I even know what the same was/is.

But, I like my Christmas tree. I like my candles illuminating my living room. I like the smell of pine cones and cinnamon. I like hearing from long lost friends. I like finding them on myspace or facebook. I hate having nothing to tell them.

Or,better yet...lying about it.

Almost Lovers by A Fine Frenzy

I wished I could say that I wrote this...but, yet again, someone else penned my thoughts for me...

My latest melancholy song by A Fine Frenzy


Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images
You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes
Clever trick
Well, I never want to see you unhappyI thought you'd want the same for me

[Chorus]
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me
Images
And when you left, you kissed my lips
You told me you would never, never forget These images
No
Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me

I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that Easy to walk right in and out Of my life?

[Chorus]
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

Please Sir, I want some more....

I wring my hands. I pace back and forth. One minute I am giddy, the next I am nervous. It's all I can think about. It charges me enough to busy myself at work, but occupies my mind enough to keep me glued to my sofa when at home. I am so out of practice and out of shape that one fleeting romantic moment, one silly touch of my thigh or hand, one open mouthed kiss sends me into a prancing, dancing, tight-rope walking, dizzy, sissy, paranoid fit.

It was only a kiss.

But, he was so cute. And it was soooooo good.

Start Talking

I haven't written in awhile. Mostly, because unlike most artists, writers and creative types, I don't always thrive with rich and full creative juice when I am down and out or just plain tired. I guess another reason might be because may be only a dozen people actually read this and then when you hardly ever post you lose even more readers. So, although, I have never really written for my readers (more of a cathartic process for me to revisit after publishing), when you come to the realization that you are reading your blog more than anyone else, checking to see if it is updated more than anyone else, and still not writing anything. You have to ask yourself why you still maintain it? Or, better yet, do you have anything to say?

I do. A lot actually. So begins my new blogging step. I plan to be more consistent on this site. I plan to write more frequently. No, not daily. And, no, still not like an online diary of daily crap. And, no, still not some literary piece of brilliance (misspellings and bad grammar and poor punctuation and run ons stay!). It just means I plan to put more stuff out there. Maybe some fiction, pieces from plays I wrote in my younger days, poems even (although so bad they are good), and of course personal stories in metaphor style, and some of my crazy dreams (since I tend to have plenty of them).

So, I begin with this quick quote that rings so true of mine and other's recent situations as we continue to mature.

"Never allow yourself to make someone a priority while allowing them to make you an option"

Now, as Linda Richmond would say..."Talk amongst yourselves."

Dreams Lend To Reality

I had a dream last night. I have tried to so hard to stifle you and bury you that you have entered my subconscious mind and now I have had my first dream. Isn't that the way the world works. Just when you think they are out of your mind the have entered an entire different realm.

The clouds were low in my dream. Like, right by my window-low. They were puffy and thick and I was sitting on my window ledge hanging my legs out the window letting the thick fog of the clouds run over my legs leaving a murky film over my shins and calves. I heard my name. I couldn't see down to the street through the thick and cumulus clouds to see who was calling me. But, when I heard my name it was as if it was softly whispered in my ear, even though I knew it was coming from five flights below. My name kept being called, so I stood on the ledge of my window and dove into the clouds using them as cushions and bouncing from one to the other until I landed on one cloud right above the sidewalk. There you were. It was you. You were calling my name. But why? You looked up and tried to swipe away at the clouds to get a better view of me. You told me to fall into your arms. I began to panic. I didn't know how I was going to get back up to my window five flights above. I tried grabbing on to clouds but no luck. I tried leaping onto one above me. But, every time I landed on one it made the cloud sink a level lower. The last thing I wanted in this dream was to fall into your arms. You stood there. In your postman sort of outfit. Pressed shorts and a nice polo. You smiled but it could have passed for a cynical sneer. You kept telling me that I could fall into your arms. But, the thing was, you weren't holding your arms out. I started to call to you to hold your arms out. I knew I was falling. I knew there was a chance that I might not make it up to my window ledge. You still didn't throw your arms out. You stood there. Stoic. Sneering/Smiling. With your hands in your pockets. Whispering my name and telling me to trust you. But, you didn't lift your arms. I was so tired of fighting the clouds. I laid on my back and sank into one. My dream moved to slow motion. I passed by three clouds on my way to you. I passed by you. You didn't catch me. You stood with your cynicism in tact and your hands wringing in your pockets. I sank into the ground which seemed to be made of a soft slate colored sand. It was moving so slowly. The sand began to wrap around my legs, my body, and soon my face. I blew at the sand to keep it from my mouth and when I did, I created a strong enough wind that you blew over as if you were made of paper. The deterioration of your reality inspired strength in me and I began to sit up and wade out of the sand until I could grab a cloud and rest on it. You were a paperdoll. I made another blowing gesture and it was aimed right at you. You picked up and were whisked away in a moment. I sat with relief and comfort at the fact that you were not real. I made it back to my window ledge determined to never again to fall for a paperdoll just because they can be beautiful and joyful.

I thought I was first.
But I also thought you were real.
I can admit to being wrong.
You will never have this privilege.

No Sense....

I don't speak. I don't want to hear.
I knew that a storm was brewing. But, I closed my shudders and windows to remain blind to it.
All I wanted was to know I was safe. Safe in your arms. Safe from danger.
The dangerous push and shove of the crowded world of normal boys.
Normal.
Feeling Love is Normal. Hiding it is not.
"All the uncertainty, the insanity, of super fluidity" My friend reminds me.

Are you ashamed?

My foolish hopes. My hopelessly fooled heart. Tears fall on pillows where stray hairs cling.
Are you liable? My vulnerability taken advantage of...
Do they know? Do I really know? Will you ever know....exactly...ever?

The taste in my mouth is of dirty metal or tin or copper. It lingers with a stiff bitterness.
What do you taste? Was it worth the licks and ticks?

I push you away bitterly.
You curse my name.
Apologies fall on deaf ears.
All I can do is keep breathing.
The song remembers when.