mental manure

 9/9/82-8/14/07

dedicated to Adam 

Yesterday I began reciting affirmations.  I admit it’s a seemingly silly practice, but the negative thoughts just won’t stop spewing from some burst vessel in my head and I can’t get it to clot.  I am convinced that they will sabotage my relationship with date#16.  My extreme thinking tells me if I have doubts, I should just drop the rope (run away) and see if he picks up the slack, but how many times have I tried this?  Enough to know it will not result in improved intimacy.  Should I assume he doesn’t want a committed monogamous relationship because he wants to date and sleep with other women?  I guess I could ask him.  I teeter along the line of wondering what’s my business and what’s not when it comes to his dating of others.  My ideals have really flipped since I began this project.  In someways I am embedding philosophies completely opposite the ones I started out with.  I am willing to participate in a relationship with a man who may want to fuck women other than me, but I have hopes of eventually finding a relationship worth committing to forever.  

The more I think about commitment and relationships, the more I see what I am really talking about is sustainability.  

Sustain:  to give support or relief to, to supply with sustenance: nourish;  to keep up, prolong, to support the weight of; to carry or withstand pressure, to support as true, legal and just;  to allow or admit as valid.  Also defined as: a method of harvesting or using a resource so that the resource is not depleted or permanently damaged.  

At this point I believe that commitment is irrelevant and what we are all looking for is sustainability.  After all here are the definitions of commit:  

to pledge or bind; or to carry out or perpetuate a mistake or a crime or immoral act; to place officially in confinement or custody, to consign for future use (memory), entrust,  to give over to another.  

Commitment seems to have to do with the transfer of power.  I don’t think that its any coincidence that this was the  original basis of marriage.  Perhaps a commitment is not what I am longing for after all. 

We philosophized for hours.  Date#16 is somewhat of an idealist when it comes to politics and environmentalism.  He pointed out that all things in life are circular, the natural process of most things is expulsion and absorption.   Farming without conscious intent has led to infertile land, which lacks essential nutrients to grow a thriving crop.   Mass producing synthetic fertilizers to introduce nitrogen back into the soil has become common practice  So what are we supposed to do with compost and other organic fertilizers that are being produced whether we repurpose them or not?  

        We began discussing how people produce emotional waste as well.   We experience sensations of jealousy, anger, rage, sadness and embarrassment.  These emotions are deemed undesirable, negative by our culture and most of the time people want to get rid of and hide our filthy feelings from friends, lovers and partners at all costs.  I really do mean all costs; lying, cheating, demonstrating passive aggressive behaviors have become social norms, which all lead to the deterioration of intimacy in relationships.

        Since I met date#16, I have been inspired to override my fears and expose my ugly feelings.  The manure of my mind, if you will, sometimes feels irrational, while other times my thoughts seem to be based in reality.  One of the benefits of exposing these thoughts is to get some feed back on which is which.   So just like in farming, the solution is to use my mental manure to fertilize for the relationship.  My fears and less than desirable feelings can circle around and be communicated.  Talking about such feelings can be used as a tool to be understood, to feel more secure and introduce new questions and ideas into the relationship.  Basically this is a process of composting and using our vulnerabilities to bring us closer instead of letting them tears us apart.  

        Date#16 and I went out of town together, we stayed at his friends house.  When I picked him up he told me  he had been hanging out with her, mostly as friends.  I had a mini heart attack.   In theory, this was not a problem but in reality my feelings were being shaken and stirred.  I could tell my body language became stiff and my face became sullen.  I tried to hide it but I knew it was no use, it was obvious that I wasn’t as engaged as I would have been otherwise.  Typically what I would do in a situation such as this, is deny my feelings and hope to get over it, but similarly to physics which states matter never really disappears, feelings don’t just evaporate into thin air either.  They are concrete imprints that may change and morph upon processing, but feelings that are denied will find away to surface one way or another if they are not properly handled.  In the past, I convinced myself that my stellar acting ability would fool someone into being unable to detect my discontent.   However,  humans are intuitive beings, and inevitably that person would ask “What’s wrong?”  

“Nothing”, I would say, invalidating the person who is perceiving the discontent, as well as invalidating myself.  And so the great divide begins.  On the surface things may seem copasetic for a while, that is until someone forgets to close the refrigerator and suddenly the mines begin exploding for seemingly “no reason”.  

        A solution to changing the outcome of unprocessed feelings is to simply acknowledge my change in body language.  I may not be ready or willing to talk about my insecurities or my frustration in that moment, but I can acknowledge that I am acting discontent.  This validates my own feelings, as well as validating the other party’s suspicions that something is fishy.  So that’s what I did.  I acknowledged that hearing about her had irritated me but I wasn't really ready to talk about it.  I told him that I would prefer to listen to some loud music instead.   It wasn't until we passed the summit that I said, I wanted to talk about my insecurities.  I said it was hard for me to hear about her.  I wanted him to know it was because I liked him, I tell him a lot.  It’s humbling, not playing games.  In the past I would have judged myself and not revealed why my jealousy buttons were getting pushed.  He understood that I liked him and confessed that he was starting to believe that I would always be there, he had concerns that he could start taking me for granted.  I explained that I understood the risk I was taking by making myself so open, but I was also convinced that pretending that I was not interested in him was just a form of manipulation.  I said that if he started taking me for granted,  I probably wouldn’t feel very good and I might want to distance myself as a result.  I reiterated I didn’t want to be taken for granted.  Then he realized after he said it out loud that he didn’t want to take me for granted either.   I remained firm in the fact that I was going to keep on liking him and we would see where that took us.   

         We arrived at out first destination and I got to meet two of his friends.  We decided to take a walk down the street to the water.  I didn’t make the move, I waited.  He reached out and held my hand.  We walked out on to a wooden path over the water, under an electrical tower (it wasn’t as dangerous as it sounds).  It was windy but not too cold.  We stood next to each other looking down into the water mesmerized by the patterns and shapes.  We sat down on the end on the makeshift dock and kissed.  When I kiss him I can’t help but feel excitement for just knowing him.  So much of the time there is a sensitive trepidation between the two of us that I have never felt before.  I suppose it’s a feeling of balance, we are careful about putting one or two heartbeats on at a time.  I give, he gives.  It feels as if we are continually adding to the weight, not taking any off.  

         We went back to the house made dinner and hung out with his friends.  They went to bed early and he set out blankets out on the floor.  We started kissing.  I was so excited to see him all week but I just couldn't let go.  I wasn't willing to take things further because I was wondering if I was in the moment with him, or if I was for the moment for him.  His statement earlier made me winder if I was already being taken for granted.  I said it out loud.  I told him I didn’t want to be a girl on the side.  He said I wasn’t the girl on the side, “Then what am I?” I asked.  He said, I was the girl he was going to go up to the city with to have an adventure.  In my mind I heard, you're a “for the moment girl”.  I didn't panic, we kept talking I said that I was sad because I had been so excited to see him all week, and now my mind was being a major buzz kill.  I told him I wanted to know that he was invested in our relationship,  he said needed time to think about that.  I said I just didn’t want to get dropped.  He asked if I thought that being out of my comfort zone was contributing to my fear of being dropped.  I hadn't thought about it that way.  “Yeah , probably”, I said.  We kept talking.  Eventually the conversation turned to his end.  He said that he often filters what he says and remains quiet unless he feels he has the perfect logical answer, but the thoughts in his mind keep bouncing around like a ball in a pin ball machine, and he began to question why he just doesn’t just say those things out loud.  He acknowledged that once they were out of his head they could be changed morphed, re-routed and refined based on what the other person had said in response.  So he refined his earlier statement, just because I was his companion for exploring the city tomorrow, didn’t mean that it discounted anything that had happened previously or anything that was coming our way in the future.  We communicated and we were both heard.  I reiterated that the point of conversations of this nature wasn’t to find the perfect answer and solidify anything, but to participate in the act of breaking down and building up, the process of communicating our ideas and exposing what is going on for each of us.  

The next morning we had the best sex of my life.  There was something about feeling real with him that was so clear.  Arching my back I could see out the window behind me and saw blue sky and perfect little fluffy clouds.  There was a trust there that let me release in a primal scream.

We went to the San Francisco, visited with more friends we were staying with that night, and then took the Muni into into Union Square.  We asked a woman sitting across from us on the train to help us clarify of our directions.  She was very outgoing and from LA on vacation.  She asked us where we were from.  Santa Cruz, we said.  She noticed that he was the physical incarnation of the beloved beach town.  She said “You guys been together 3 years?”  We looked at each other, and then shook our heads, She kept counting down backwards.  I finally stopped her and said we met each other two months ago.  She asked our signs and told us we would work well together.  

We spent most of the day in a five story building  on Geary Street with nine different art galleries.  We took a break half way through and got some coffee.  I pulled out my notebook and began writing, and he started sketching on a napkin.

We had a great time together.  Slowly but surely we are getting to know each other.  And the waxing and waning of my confidence continues.

FEAR:  I’m thinking the best solution at this point is to start seeing other people again (running).  I need to spread the impact again (running).  I need to get some of my power back (running).  I would like to feel more secure.  I feel a lack of security.  The funny thing about getting my power back is this; I already have all the power I am ever going to posses.  What do I have to lose by remaining open?  Nothing absolutely nothing, except my fucking pride.  It’s all about pride.  I gotta let it go.  I have to be fearless.  What’s the worst that could happen?  I love, love, love, he just happened to get in the way.  I will fearlessly be myself, I will be eccentric.  This is not about him, this is about me.  I will give freely.  I will open up.  I will not expect anything in return.  I will dance, I just want to be loved.  

A softer side of me, peaceful dove, in pinks and browns and flowers in my hair.  We are little hippie kids, with petals for cheeks.  The space is ok, it lets us breathe.  I let go over and over and over, releasing my grip and feeling the softness of pillows and warm comforters with cool breezes that cool his skin.  I brush my hand over him to warm him up.  Is he dreaming of freedom?  I’m tired of getting mine, I want to adore him.  I want to knit socks out of the softest cotton for him.  I also want to give more freely to Lucy, to Lylah.  I still hesitate about giving completely, that’s why the space is there.  I will write him poems on paper I have made myself, out of his recycled story.  What can I do?  Rock climbing?  Making pies?  Sewing, painting, mending my clothes, reading newspapers, massage him.  I need to calm down.  Chamomile.  He makes me tea and we drink it together.  I love looking back and thinking where we have been.  I never want to stop writing about him.   I want to remember it all.  I don’t want to miss this part of my life.  The part where I met him.  The part where we grew together.  The part where I learned to love.  The part where I learned to be selfless and really see someone, where I am hanging on the edge above the ground and have faith that the fall might be worth it.  When I think about all that has happened, all that I have felt, all that I have processed, I can’t believe that it landed me here.   Here is a place where I am present, where I am inspired to create everything around me.  I want to build, beautify everything, give, give, give, be whole.  Where I feel whole in myself.  When I am writing I feel I have a purpose.  

I no longer fantasize about the house and the kids and the fence. My fantasies now consist of trust, friendship and amazing sex.  When I was younger I was so caught up in finding the perfect mate.  I was looking for someone to “settle down” with, someone who would take care of me and buy me stuff, especially things like an engagement ring and a house.  I was unconsciously looking for a parent, not an equal.  I am beginning to see what really matters.  I asked my friend Wendy a serious question.

Me:  I want to know something.  It’s a terrifying question so don’t answer if you don’t want to......... What would you have done differently if you would have known Adam was going to die?
Wendy:

wow

that gives me chills

give me a minute to answer that...

Wendy:

I would have loved him with even more abandon than I already did! It makes me cry but it makes me smile too... I would have been less cranky about stupid things like him tracking mud into the apartment with his shoes

there's more... hold on

I would have spent a LOT more time hugging him and just generally being ridiculous which is what he and I enjoyed the most
Wendy:

I would have taken more pictures of him, family pictures... and I would have married him (he wanted to go to Vegas but I said "No, not until you have a year clean" ha. didn't happen

I would have married him in a heartbeat if I had known. I miss him so much! I can't seem to find another "soul mate" you know? I keep asking him to help me find love and I keep praying about it... but I just loved him with all my heart
Me:

I’m so sorry Wendy.....

I wish I could give you a hug, and cry on you now

Wendy:

oh one more thing... I wouldn't have participated in his relapse, heroin. I would have been the lighthouse if I could have... ok. wow. I wish I could cry with you in person.

Me:  Thank you Wendy, I love you.

My chance is now.  I have let go, moved on and now I am ready.  I have done the work, clearing the wreckage of my past.  I am ready for love.  I welcome it with open arms.  Love is all there is.  My writing has taken a turn from looking at connection, to looking at romance, to looking at love. Some of the greatest love stories are tragedies. If you love someone, show them, don't wait. Do it for those who have passed on before realizing how truly loved they were and for those of us who loved them.