doubleblind

It takes a certain amount of stability to hand over the illusion of control when you care deeply about another person.  There have been times when I wanted someone so badly that it resembled a self serving, indulgence in endorphins rather than anything representing my true love for them. Oddly enough, it is the unspoken undeniable connection that makes it a little easier for me to justify some space.  I must rely on believing that love is not selfish.  I think the most powerful transformative type of love occurs with those who don't necessarily do anything for it.  We don't love them because they are good cooks, good listeners, the best in bed always, but because there is just something about them, we can’t quite put our finger on, that draws us in.  There is a curiosity, a desire to know more.  What if I was more patient?  Even if it didn’t turn out the way I expected, could I tolerate not slamming the emotional door and open myself to the possibility of not knowing what the future may bring?  Can I be open hearted with out being overwhelming?  Could we be cultivate a friendship?  

This weeks date was actually double blind.  He didn’t know he would be participating in my project, and quite frankly neither did I.  I decided to write about him, (whom I will refer to as dance#13), after realizing how juicy our interaction had become for me.  Many of the descriptions and lessons unfolded throughout the week and I felt it was essential to include our interaction in the project even though the events transpired without ever actually going on a date.   

Two weeks ago:

I felt pressure on the crown of my head and I pushed back.  I was laying on the floor and I wasn’t able to see the the body inviting me to dance.  I determined that it was indeed a foot that circled around the back of my neck, and tilted my face upward. It slid down my spine guiding my torso upright and I effortlessly came to standing.  I paused and listened.  He was new to me, I had not danced with him before and this was the first time I had ever seen him in the studio.  He was strong.  Beneath his loose fitting cotton pants  were padded knees and lean muscular legs.  I appreciated the clear channel being built between us, free of static and confusion.  We were open and sensitive to each others signals and energy.  I placed my hands on him with supportive intention.  My fingers extended flat onto his chest, as if I was placing my hand onto the surface of still water.  My arm draped over his shoulder from behind.  I etched the texture of his warm, damp, cotton t-shirt into my memory.   A lightness from my fingertips took in the influence of his body.  

His straight spine and smooth movements lifted me into swirling circles.  I rounded his hips and my feet gently returned to the floor.  I honed in on the type of connection we were creating.  My head was quiet and our bodies communicated simply.  I put pressure on his thigh.  He took me at my waist, and raised me up over his leg and we regained our balance.  I listened deeply and I was open to what was unfolding.  We spiraled around each other.  I could tell he liked to fly, so I let him. I waited for opportunities where I knew I could support his weight and he seized these offerings transforming any heaviness I might bear into fluid movement, sliding over me.  He was conscious of his weight and shifted seamlessly to accommodate my shape.  A bond was being built.  With each time we interacted in the dance, intimacy grew.  

That night, before I went to sleep I re-watched an amazing contact improv video I had posted on my Facebook page a few days prior.  The video of the couple began to play.  All of a sudden the movements of the the man dancing across my computer screen seemed very familiar.  I furrowed my brow and sat there in disbelief as I began to realize that he, in fact was the man I had danced with that morning.  I was beside myself.  I felt honored and extremely lucky to have an experience of such transcendental proportions.

Last week Saturday:

The morning after I flew in from New York I decided to go dancing.  I wanted another opportunity to connect with dance#13, even though I was getting over a cold and was still tired.  I walked in and began warming up.  I saw him enter the studio and I averted my eyes.  I was feeling self conscious of my energy.  The interaction I had with mr.ten ignited my fear of being too much.  I figured I would wait for dance#13 to approach me.  Maybe the trick was to always let them do all the work so that I will never feel rejected.  The problem was he never did.  I felt passive aggressive.  My incredulous attempt of control just lead me back to the same feeling of separateness.  I was simply swinging the pendulum in the opposite direction.  Expecting him to independently react to my odd manipulation, was still creating a one-sided dynamic.  I shut down and I knew I was falling into blame and that ever so familiar trench of feeling like a victim.  My somatic response was a cue that I was entering the territory of grey once again.  

Hard and fast rules simply don't work when it comes to relationships.  There are too many variables.  It reminds me of something a math teacher once told me.  Simply memorizing rules will not help you on a test when you maybe asked to solve a problem which may look unfamiliar.  We must learn how to navigate our feelings without a formula and with practice we wil become more comfortable with resolution and interaction on a case by case basis.  Society hasn’t made such incredible technological advancements due to following the same set of rules over and over again, in the same order.  We may use the same general concepts and improve upon them, but it takes a certain amount of sensitivity, gauging and creativity to be able to navigate one of the most complex specimens of all, human beings; ourselves included.  I left the studio that morning feeling sheepish and vowing that next time, I would make more of an effort. 

I went to a contact class dance#13 taught on Wednesday night, and brought my open heart with me.  I left my expectations behind.  I was ready to practice fearless vulnerability again.  The dancing begun and I joined him and a few other dancers.  He and I eventually separated from the group.  Our bodies began to converse, unspoken questions, answered calmly and softly in a soft inaudible whisper.  How are you? Where are you? What is your experience? How deep do you want to go? Are you warmed up? Do you wanna go deeper? Can I let go?  Are you letting go? I feel you going there, I am there too.  

Our dance was happening in my consciousness, my body became a receptacle for his energy.  He poured himself into me.  Slowly my energy dropped into his body once I felt confident he was ready for it.  Our rhythm quickened and intensified.  I let go.  All of my being flowed down toward my center, it swirled around inside of me preparing to be given as a gift.  

He was down on the floor his legs extended toward my back, which was faced away from him, hovering just in front of his feet.  I felt him root up onto the small of my back, which was now our only point of contact.  I instinctively collapsed backward and magically soared toward the celling.  I was laying horizontal, face up suspended over his body.  My arms and legs were outstretched reaching energetically upward.  The opaque darkness of my sweet surrender was surreal.  I felt beautifully light, a glorious resurrection.  For only a moment I came back into my conciseness.  I became aware of the distance between me and the floor.  It was crucial for me to maintain the state of trust I initially found from deep within myself and him. I was completely depending on him to keep me from crashing to the ground.  He's got me, I thought.  I was one-hundred percent confident in his ability to hold me and keep me safe.  He held me suspended in the air until the circuit was complete, and the exchange was fulfilled.  He released me and I physically came back to earth, but my mind was still completely immersed in him.  My spirt was swimming inside his body, like water in a balloon.  The studio session was coming to a close for the evening.  I came down to him and we embraced on the cool and now noticeably unwavering floor.  I swiftly brought my flushed cheek to the center of his rapidly rising and falling chest.  I was as still as possible.  His shirt was saturated with sweat and it cooled my flush cheek. I consciously released any musculature in my neck and the weight of my head sank deep into his heart.  I was fragile, even though my body had been safely retuned to the floor, I had concerns that I may be abandoned to process the sensations pulsing through my senses alone.  I prayed that his body would remain still with mine.  I felt as though any abrupt movement would have broken me.  I listened to his heartbeat, I was as open and vulnerable as I had ever been.  I was still listening to his soothing unspoken vibrations.  I maintained a solid boundary by not crumbling onto him energetically as to not overwhelm him, yet  I reveled in, and enjoyed our closeness.  Slowly the bricks of my being were transferred  from his body, back into mine.  They were dragged one at a time, stacked securely and properly atop one another.  When I felt my foundation had been securely laid, I slowly opened my eyes and I rolled up to sitting, one vertebrae at a time.  I witnessed him do the same.  When I was ready, I crossed my legs and our knees stayed connected.  He laid his hand over my leg at my ankle.  We sat there tenderly silent through the closing ritual of the dance.  I kept waiting for him to pull away be he didn't, not until it was over. 

We talked after.  Our conversation strengthened my trust in him.  He felt so safe.  He said he would’t run.  I loved that I had this stable connection with a man in the container that we were operating in, that of dance.  Nobody wants to fall.  Taking a leap of faith is not just about choosing the right person.  I trust dance#13 but I can’t just jump onto his body hoping he’ll be able to catch me with no buildup, without a connection that has been previously and mutually established.  The more complicated, intimate moves need to start with a base of stability, connection and mutual communication.  

I feel a loosening and state of ease in my body as I become enlightened to the fact that my responsibility is to hold the space for the relationships I want to develop, so there is a safe container for response. 

Sunday afternoon:

I ran into dance#13 at the grocery store.  We began talking about confusing  indeterminate lengths of certain relationships.  How are we supposed to navigate intense singular connections?  Do we hold back when really we want to give, because we aren’t looking for more than a few independent interactions with a particular person?  What if they want more?  Does that leave us ethically liable?, in emotional debt?, or worse emotional overdraft?  What about all those outrageous fees?  What about the issue of communicating clearly what we want, but are still not met with respect when it comes to our boundaries?  Can we impose time limits or expiration dates on interaction?  Not every relationship is intended to be life long.  We are fallible humans.  Sometimes an influx or an overflow of connection can’t possibly be maintained with everyone we meet.  Relationships do take our energy and in turn we have to hold the energy coming our way as well.  I believe the solution lies in whether we are willing to stay open to the possibility of reuniting after an inevitable pause?  Often our relationships are looked at in terms of positive space.  In other words the actual events of what happened between two people.  But what about the time in between?  

Can relationships be defined by space apart?  The interval of disconnection sometimes leads us to forget what occurred in the past, and spark our desire to reignite a connection and give it another chance.  So in the mean time we wait.  We wait to make the call, or we wait for the call to come in.  Dictation of the appropriate assignment of whom will assume one role or the other is impossible.  The tipping point usually occurs when one person is called to undeniable action.  

What does giving up on a relationship look like?  How do we determine the final fatality of a relationship?  What if I said there were certain individuals I committed to not giving up on?  What if I reciprocated?  Most of the endings of my relationships stem more from my not responding than the other way around.  Probably because I am too busy chasing the ones who aren't responding to me.  So what if I did that? Respond to those who respond to me, and put all others on hold.  Not close the door, but maybe give space and revisit later.  A kind of relationship hibernation, not a relationship funeral.  That would be beautiful.  My grief would lessen.  I could feel held even by those who I previously labeled as having abandoned me.  I, in turn could practice being more available myself.  Learning what I can give and what I can’t.  Accepting my limitations and setting boundaries so that I am also participating in relationships I want to be in.

After we finished our conversation in aisle 5, Lucy and I made our way to the parking lot. He came out while I was getting everything in the car and he stopped to talk again.  It was as if the universe placed him in my path to witness his greatness as it relates to my journey.  I am sure on some level the energy coming from me will influence his journey as well.  During our conversation, Lucy was playing DJ and the music was so loud that it served as the sound track to what was beginning to felt like a scene in a movie.  Lucy looked at dance#15 and asked him if he liked the particular song that was playing.  Right at that very moment the lyrics “so I’ll leave it in your hands now, to come through” flowed out of the car window.  Clearly I was participating in a very kismet scene in my life story.  I was able to contain my astonishment and remain present.  I became aware that we were encased by an intentional flow that was surrounding us.  

Looking into his blue eyes, I got a glimpse of something that I have never really experienced before, a stringless powerful, smooth and balanced exchange.  Our words had a texture to them, a sight, a smell, a touch and a sound.  They were dimly lit and felt like someone running their fingers up your arm.  They were perfumed with the scent of a lover’s pillow and sounded like the best part of your favorite song.  I felt moments of hesitation on his part to open up, but I think once he realized I was a safe person to share with, he opened his channel as well.  I put my arm around him and his center emitted a gentle softness as he held me in return.  It makes me smile just thinking about it.  We met each other right where we were, each of us in the midst our individual processes.  We didn't bring any parasitic need rooted in past hurts, to each other.  He was a reflection of the loving care I was so freely extending to him.  The way he shared his fear, his nerves and his confusion were easy to cradle, it wasn’t about me.  Right there in the parking lot my soul was wrapped in the softest blanket, and offered fragrant hot tea.  This intimate sacred space glowed an orange blossom hue and was positioned somewhere between the pavement and heaven.  

Our conversation was contained in a space free of all trauma and childhood hurts.  This is the place I have been searching for.  I wish I could have run here during those days,  all of them; the exotic dancing days, the days of abuse from my father, the abuse from all of the others, the attacks from my mother, when I felt alone with a brand new baby, during the inner monologue that told me I was too different, the hangovers, the rejection from guys at the bar.   All of those times I needed someone, but there was no one to be found.  How did this manifestation occur?  Why now?  It’s about the container, me.  I had to learn to be able to hold my own feelings first, before I could relate to being wrapped in unconditional love.  In the past I wanted someone to take my on feelings and relieve me of my inner suffering.  Today I desire something very different.  I allow my feelings fly as they will inside of me, and I crave only a witnesses to the emotions I am holding myself.  My trusted anchor preventing gravity from washing me away.  I drove out of the Whole Foods parking lot full of energy that was so clearly showing me the miracle of paying attention.  Somehow my interaction with him has quenched a thirst I possessed for non-sexual intimacy with a man that I was drawn to.  A man whom I found physically attractive, emotionally drawing but whom I did not expect anything from.

I witnessed this manifest for dance#15 when he danced blind.  He had his eyes closed for about 10 to 15 minutes while another dancer and I kept catching him as he figuratively fell, over and, over and, over again.  We were his eyes.  He didn’t collapse his knees, he leaned into us,  bending without caving in.  I am in awe of what I have never experienced before.  So impermanent and so perfect.  It culminated all of the beauty I had ever experienced, washing over us in and endless wave of pure love.  

In this moment, as I am writing, I am experiencing the most amazing emotional high I have ever felt.  I feel safe in feeling it fully and deeply because it’s not dependent on anyone changing their mind.  It is based on the isolated experience of a shared moment, which can never be taken away.  It will always be mine.  It may aways be ours.  The intensity may fade, I may forget exactly what it felt like but no one can ever take it away from me.  I will continue to stay open to loving connections like this more often.  

say hello and wave goodbye

He’s just gone.  It’s just over, just like that.  My heart was feeling so heavy it took me about 20 minutes of laying down to finally re-balance and sit upright.  Aftershocks continued to pulsate through my psyche, I took deep breaths to help relieve some of the pressure.  But it’s over.  Finished.  How very strange.

I had decided last week that I needed to practice not grasping for control when it came to the destiny of my romantic relationships.  Since I have put this into practice, my intrigues have been much shorter than in the past.  If I was as diluted as I was five to ten years ago, these encounters would have gone on for much, much longer.  Today my  un-returned text message and two unanswered phone calls followed by my hanging up without leaving messages, assured me that what was coming my way was most certainly not “I cant wait to see you”.  I would normally feel sorry for myself.  I would reflexively jump into feeling victimized, annoyed, and believe that I would never recover.  However the funny thing is all this rejection lately is actually helping me see more clearly the things I don’t want.  

The reason I texted mr.ten today in the first place was, as a result of being hurt buy our “commitment” conversation, I decided to withdrawal a little and give him what I perceived as some much needed space.  Once the space had been established (a few days without contact)  he texted, I responded. Then he texted, I responded.  This went on for a few days but all of the texts were one sentence long and he never did respond to my email concerning my response to his general explanation as to what happened that Saturday morning.  All of the signs were pointing toward continued involvement.  But we had still not set up the next time to see each other and he never called me to talk.  

On Saturday, I confided in one of my male clients who is 26 years old and in a committed relationship. He has amazing insight when it comes to romantic advice.  I asked his opinion of the concept “playing hard to get”.  He scoffed and said, girls that play hard to get are just overanalyzing types. He pointed out, it would be much more beneficial for me to just be myself.  I was relieved and ecstatic.  I revealed that I find playing mind games excruciatingly impossible and didn’t see how that could lead to the type of relationship I wanted anyway.  I expressed to my client, I sometimes was scared, feeling I was too creative, artistic and intense and how just being myself would surely be too overwhelming for a nice guy.  He shook his head, meaning no.  He told me I was a deep thinker, therefore I needed to be with a deep thinker; not someone who was shallow and insecure.  I believed him.  He gave me his number incase I needed any on the spot advice and I was flattered.  I have been cutting his hair for about a year and have really grown to respect him.  I also mentioned that one of the amazing byproducts of this project is how I am able and have become increasingly comfortable, reaching out to others for support as the subject matter is often quite confusing and I cannot do it on my own.

There is a balance of give and take in relationships.  In the beginning it is hard to gauge timing and which is the appropriate next course of action.  I have confronted my propensity toward dominating the direction of my romantic involvements and I find myself settling into on a balance.  As I sat there waiting in the wings, contemplating my destiny with mr.ten, I began to wonder if this is how I would like my next enduring romantic relationship to feel like.  Is the symbiotic exchange occurring in ways that I would desire long term?  And the answer was clearly no.  It was obvious to me, there was now an apparent disconnect in what he was saying and what he was doing.  I became uncomfortable.  I felt like the dishonestly was beginning to fester like a rotting piece of food in a hard to reach place, only discovered by the sudden unpleasant odor .  So I texted him, telling him I was beginning to sense that he was either in the process of, or had already lost interest.  I assumed a response would help me to clarify where things were headed sooner rather than later.  However it took him a bloody eight hours to respond.   I felt as if I had been romantically taken hostage. He explained, he was at work, sick and in no condition for talking, but my intuition was pretty correct.  My initial reaction was, what?  really? Just like that? 

I could go into all of the judgments and place blame for my hurt feelings which would resemble an emotional baggage version of hot potato, but I’ll get straight to the point.  This is not how I want to feel.  I want to know that I am loved, stable and secure in my relationship.  Not hanging by a thread waiting days on end for the next move.  I want there to be consistency.  Mutual adoration and a respect for one another’s feelings.  I want a man who is emotionally mature enough to know what he wants, and what he wants is me. I am getting so much closer in my minds eye to believing that a man out there of this description exists. 

everlasting gobstopper

We all have hard outer shells.  These shells can be shed.  Relationships are about the timing and depth of the disrobing process.  Beneath the first layer is another layer, and another layer, and another, and another.  What would it feel like to know there was someone whom you could take them all off for?   Disarm ourselves of the protection and the armor, and just be.  It takes some time to soften our defenses and realize that no matter what our defenses look like we are capable of love, giving and receiving it.

Date#12 and I met on Friday night.  Since he got a little turned around trying to find the coffee shop, I was talking to him on the phone while trying to find his exact location.  I saw him zoom right by me so I ran into the street and chased behind him telling him to look in his rearview mirror.  I  caught up to his car and I jumped in, out of breath and said hello.  I sat there, a passenger waiting to get my wits about me.  We decided to have Thai in Soquel.  By the time we merged onto the freeway, I knew his name and his line of work.  He drove very fast and sped up to stop just before hitting the cars that were ahead of us on the freeway.  I completely tuned out most of what he was saying on our car ride to Star of Siam, as I was seriously concerned about the chances of us getting there in one piece.  I didn’t get a good look at him until I was seated across from him at the table.  Once we sat down he pulled out his wallet, a watch (from where, I am not exactly sure), and his cell phone which he lined up side by side on the table.  He put the phone on a stand, facing him.  I told him it was nice to see him face to face.  He lives in San Jose and works in the tech industry.  He told me that he lives in a small apartment, but was currently looking to buy.  His profile mentioned that he was very settled in his life and that all of the goals he had set out or himself were falling into place.  He was ready to settle down with the right person.  He said it would be nice to find someone who shared the same interests but that it wasn't necessary.  I got the feeling he was nervous because he laughed louder and longer to make things funnier than they really were.  He was very good at small talk, but I was having a hard time gauging who he really was.  I started asking questions.  After most of his answers he would make a comment about how weird he was.  I wasn’t quite buying it.  He did seem a little different from the guys I have been going out with but I got the impression that he was really apologizing for himself.  He has been skydiving, loves a day at the races, fast cars and guns.  His hobbies and interests were not explicit on his profile.  I became curious as to what his insides were all about.  He told me that he believed in “traditional american values”, and he was all red white and blue.  I didn’t mention that I was Canadian.   I asked him what he considered “all american values” and he couldn’t tell me.  Then he said he was pro-choice and wasn’t against gay marriage.  I asked him what he liked about guns, he said the mechanics and he believes that guns make people more safe.  I dug deeper.   “So does that mean you believe that if we all had guns we would all be safer?” “Yes” he replied, I told him that I wasn’t a big fan of guns, although I had shot one once before.  At one point in the conversation when we were talking about motorcycle engines, he said, “I bet all that just went over your head.”  I stared him right in the eyes and asked him exactly what he thought was so hard for me to understand.  Then I said, just for emphasis, “Could you explain that again?”.  There were moments on this date where I felt my pulse elevate and my eyes darted toward the door.  I brought myself back by reminding myself that I am here to learn and that meeting new people is a gift.  It may not have seemed like it at first, but date#12 was a sensitive, successful man holding it together by a thread.  We left the restaurant and our next destination was Marinis.  His driving was still erratic and I gave some pretty obvious signals that it was making me nervous.  He asked me if I would like him to be a little more careful, but being that nothing changed even after his offer, it seemed to be pretty much out of his control.  We got downtown and walked together to get some candy.  To be honest had there not been the prospect of fudge in the future, the date might have ended sooner than later.  He and I waited to be helped and he told me a few things that helped explain why he was self conscious and why I felt it was hard for me to let my guard down around him.  He disclosed to me in middle school and high school, he was considered an outcast.  Pieces of him were starting to come together.  It seemed like had I not had the focus to really try and see him and what makes up his essence, I might have missed him alltogether.  We took our loot and found a bench to sit on and talked.  I started to feel the energy calm down.  I let my guard a little.  My jaw softened.  I saw him as another human being lost in the world just looking for a little softness and comfort.  Even though his conversation and attitude at first was more representative of a combatant republican.  He noted that he was having a really good time.  I was glad.  I felt good about the fact that we were finally able to feel a glimpse of connection.  

Our individual covers have different thicknesses and textures.  These layers are designed to keep us emotionally safe and intact.  I believe the ultimate goal in life is to find the way to the center of what it is we are guarding with such care. Relationships are the roadmap, guiding us and others to that sacred space within ourselves and each other.  Last year, I messaged a friend for help after a taste of revealing  the next layer to be peeled.  

October 17, 2011

Jude:  it could be as simple as the natural human need we have to connect with someone, even if it's just for a few hours

we all get lonely

especially those of us that are going through this craziness alone

Me: I think that would apply to both him and I

Jude: okay, well here's another thing to bear in mind, and I’m just going by my own experience

the older you get and are still single, the more complicated it gets

a lot of fear and caution

Me: but I long for more, I want my heart to have regular connection on a regular basis

Jude: I want the same thing....

sometimes it just seems so out of reach for me

Me: well it did to me too, and then this thing just kinda happened with this guy last night.....we have been getting to know each other for a little while and it just seemed so right at the time

I’m just really attracted to him

Jude: been there...

Me: which side

Jude: both

Me: I’d like to think that I could cultivate this openness and attraction with whomever whenever I want.....maybe thats whats going on

Jude: like I said, it gets complicated as we get older, since we've all been hurt, rejected, etc. people get more guarded and cautious perhaps cause there's simply more at stake when we get older

seriously

Me: very, very true but for me it has been almost the opposite in some ways too

Jude: I mean, look at me. Im 42 years old, single, never married, only had 3 girlfriends in my whole life

sometimes, you cant help but question yourself

Me: the truth is, that was the first time I have had sex in like almost 4 years, so it was good and it felt right

Jude:

I understand

I think the best thing I can suggest to you right now is, just take it slow and don't read too much into it yet

Me:

mmmmmm good advice

processing old stuff sucks and changing behavior is sooooo humbling

Jude:

well, sitting there making yourself crazy about it isn’t gonna help at the present time, ya know?

Me:

totally

that’s why it helps to chat it out with you

Jude:

I miss you

I really do

Me:

miss you too

you're a good friend jude

"Speak the truth, do not yield to anger; give, if thou art asked for little; by these three steps thou wilt go near the gods." Confucius

My initial reflections on this week’s happenings were heavily geared toward self soothing sabotage.  I was convinced the lesson was in letting go.  I had come up with analogies, comparisons to change, and simply accepting the failure of my relationship with mr.ten as the expected and inevitable outcome of our last four dates.  However,  these brainstorms were simply a warm up for the deeper meaning which was yet to be revealed, as if by pure luck or chance.  The true meaning of this weeks events, confronted how I deal with unpredictability in relationships.  At first my self-talk was quite harsh.  I stated that nothing ever goes as planned and I might as well just count on complete detachment as my only safe and viable option.  I had succumbed to the fact that despite my best efforts to have a positive attitude, and ignore my internal predictions, I was hurting.  However, it was unclear as to what exactly I was hurt about.  I assured myself that if I were to continue on with mr.ten, I would surly be guaranteeing myself more heartache.  So I kept repeating the falsely comforting message, “I refuse to chase” over and over in my head.  It is clear to me now,  that my feeble attempt to shut down all vulnerabilities, was not going to reach and resolve the origin of my discomfort.  

Friday night we met up at 8:30 and went out for dinner, then went down to the Penny Creamery for ice cream to go.  The evening progressed as usual but in hindsight I think the distance was apparent from the moment I walked in the door.  I wonder if the shift in his demeanor was as a result of my sending him a copy of last weeks writing. Perhaps it was not as well relieved as I had anticipated.  I guess there is a part of me that takes for granted my comfortableness with my feelings and their intensity.  I understand that not everybody is as forgiving when it comes to their emotions or holding somebody else's for that matter.  We returned to his apartment and I spent the night.  The next morning I got up before he did and went to get us coffee, tea and a couple of muffins.  I also brought up the small gift I got for him last week, from the new Stripe Men store that just opened downtown.  I put it, still in the paper bag, on his night table.  I crawled back into bed with him.  He still felt noticeably different but he was tired so I assumed the shift from his previously enamored ways was just due to lack of sleep.  Finally I brought it up.  I told him he seemed different and a little distant.  I asked him what he was feeling.  He took a full minute to respond.  When he was finally ready, he said, “I don’t want a commitment”.  What happened between mr.ten and I, Saturday morning was very confusing.  I wish I could describe all of the details of what happened, but honestly I don’t remember.  The statement itself caught me off guard.  I was pretty sure that we had already agreed that a commitment was off the table for the time being.  I noticed that familiar feeling emerging in my body.  My stomach began tensing and then a rush of insecurity pulsated through my limbs and my head started swimming.  I became frozen.  Here it was, the inevitable moment of where he pulls away.  The odd thing was, I did say to him that I didn’t feel a commitment was a pressing objective at this time.  But for some reason it felt like we were really talking about something else and that the subject of commitment was just the cover.  Regardless of how and why he was saying it, he was saying it, and it hurt.  I had all of the pyscho-somatic responses of a break up, even though I’m not sure that some assemblance of such, is what really even happened.  It seemed as though he was preemptively telling me that someone was going to get hurt.  But even as he was saying so, he was looking at me with a deep care in his eyes which obviously created more confusion in me.  I started to wonder if I had been mistaking the provenance of his gaze from the beginning.  I kept my cool.  I went into my wordy, ego driven lecture on how I am not going to gravel at anyone’s feet and my annoyance at how many times I have participated in conversations with nauseating similarity.  I explained, the only reason I believed a committed, loving relationship was even possible was as a result of this blog.  I made it clear that I craved closeness with a partner, only as a result of what I had learned from the project thus far.  I tried to ask good questions that would lead me to some sort of clarification, but I’m pretty sure most of his answers were “I don’t know”.  I was trying to have an open heart and an open mind.  But I could tell my anger was creeping up inside of me like a crouching tiger, hidden dragon.  I told him I knew eventually I would get angry.  And then I did.  I began rushing around his apartment trying to gather my clothes and underwear.  This entire conversation occurred shortly after having sex and I was still naked.  I was trying to pay attention to my body.  I was trying to listen to what I wanted to do to protect myself emotionally.  My first instinct was to run, get my clothes on, and run.  I was driven to get out of his house, get away from him and keep my integrity intact.  I could feel a little sensitive part of me having trouble resisting the temptation to feel victimized and used.  But as I began to put on my shoes another voice inside me said, “What you really need to do is feel heard, let him know that you feel sad.  Go back.  Talk to him.  Don’t blame him.  Just tell him how you feel.  Complete the circle.  Don’t just leave with unfinished business.”  I came back to his bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.  I was still upset.  He was still looking at me kindly (I think), I said “You're not a jerk”, retracting a comment I had made earlier.  “I just feel really sad”.  I began to cry.  I cried, not because I wanted pity from him, but because that was the path that my body and mind wanted to take.  He was sitting on his bed and I was standing in between his legs and we hugged as I cried.  Then I sat next to him on the bed and cried some more.  I can’t remember how he was reacting except when I looked up, I swear he was still looking at me with some sort of admiration.  We kissed.  It was pretty clear that the only thing we both knew for sure was that we were both very confused. I think mid-kiss I said, “Are you willing to let it be messy?”  “Yes” he replied, but I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt or I’m going to get hurt, or both”.  I asked him how much time he spends in his relationships avoiding conflict? “All of it”, he said.  With a small sigh of relief inside,  I said this is what relationships are about, the mending of miscommunications and healing the hurts. No one is perfect, people are not black and white and avoidance is unfulfilling.  Relationships are messy, they hurt but they are also so beautiful, satisfying, ecstatic, joyous and worth it.  I told him I thought he was worth it.  I got in his shower and got ready for work, as it was to late to go back to mine to do so.  We kissed at the door.  I told him he would have to call me because it was pretty clear that he needed his space. 

I find it very difficult to work through conflict which I cannot predict.  I have spent a lifetime believing that people were transparent, predictable and everyone fell into two categories; those who did what I wanted and those who didn’t.  If you were a member of the latter group our time together was limited.  I have very little practice or experience in maintaing relationships when I feel that I am not getting what I want.  Even as I write this I have a hard time believing that such relationships are even possible.  However the impact of acknowledging this incredible deficit in my human relations skills gives me a sense of immense hope. This discovery appears to be a possible key to a secret lock, that I have been trying to pick for as far back as I can remember.  On my window sill are three picture frames each displaying pictures of me with people I am no longer on speaking terms with.  I can’t help but notice how this is a visual representation of my relationship pattern.  I have made strides in the last year pausing when I feel like abandoning friendships and talking to those friends about how I feel instead.  

Last night I realized the joy and safety that emerges from honest and open communication is priceless.  Villainization of people who do not comply with my demands only hurts me and I become isolated from everything that is most important to me at this time in my life, intimate connection.   On my way to work I received a text message from him saying “if it’s to be messy then the soap is the most appropriate gift”

I admit I don’t know how to act.  I don’t know where to go from here.  So I guess I can just be honest and say.  This is who I am like it or not, but at least you will be able to tell, if you keep paying attention.