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rape

I feel as if my mind is a cyclone.  I am overwhelmed by the horror and beauty that surrounds me.  I’m tired of my own thoughts.  Everything is clearing out at once and all I want is to be comforted by date#16.  I need him.  I am tired of pretending that I have it all under control, because I don’t.  I am doing things with him that seem completely ludicrous.  We are having conversations with words displaying our dignity and grace.  All I can do is rub my head in confusion, squint and open my eyes wide as I take in what is actually going on.  It’s about change.  I have come to a place in my life where I see that everything I have ever thought and ever done is completely wrong, and I am willing to do something different.  The more I say out loud what is on my mind the stronger I get.  I have become fearless.  

I met up with encounter#19 against my better judgment.  I saw his profile on okcupid.  He talked about how he rarely refers to himself using the “m word” which I think stood for man.  I continued to read through his profile and he seemed well rounded, interested in the outdoors, hiking and such.  I scrolled down and noticed that he was performing a little social experiment as well.  He had two very long paragraphs written about machismo culture.  He was beginning to notice how he had participated in patriarchal society and maybe he might want to examine and change some of his behaviors.  So he would be abstaining from all sex for a year.  No porn, no maturating, no romantic intentions.  Immediately red flags began to appear.  The nature of his experiment, as well as his extreme detailed descriptions made me think twice about messaging him.  He was obviously crazy and eccentric.  But then I thought  “Well I’m extreme and eccentric”.  Obviously there had to be a reason he was finding this to be an important lesson for him and I became curious as to what the motivation behind his idea was.    

     I sent him a message and he responded with his phone number.  I called the next day.  He answered and I was having a hard time understanding what he was saying.  He was talking so fast and the phone reception was a fuzzy.  He seemed to be in the middle of something and the phone kept cutting out.  Finally I just came out with it and said I was calling because I was curious about his idea and was interested in hearing more about it.  In my profile I say, “I can’t help but notice the beauty and horror that surrounds me.”   He said these words attracted him to my profile, and he would be open to talking.  He reiterated that he was not looking for any romantic encounters.  I said that I understood and wanted to set up a time to talk.  He said, that he would get back to me.  I said that I preferred to set up a time right then and there.  He gave some resistance but finally agreed to settle on a time that worked for both of us.  I told him Tuesday morning worked for me.  He said, “How about 7:30 am?”,  I said that would be fine except that I had to drop my daughter off at school that morning.  I said I was thinking more along the lines of 10:00 a.m.  He hesitated but then agreed.  I thanked him for working through his anxiety around making plans and said I’ll see you Tuesday.  

On Saturday morning I received a text from him reiterating the time and place we would be meeting for conversation and an encounter.  I felt my brow furrow.  There was something odd about the tone of his text.  I thought it was weird that he was being so specific when I felt we were pretty clear when and why we were meeting already.  I told Elijah, “This guy is crazy”.  He said that meeting him on the beach might not be such a good idea and suggested that we meet in a more public place such as a coffee shop, I agreed.  Tuesday morning came, it was very foggy and the sky and atmosphere were a mix of grey and smokey white.  The air was heavy, cool and damp.  It had slipped my mind to rearrange our meeting time and there was a small part of me that felt that it would upset him and I wanted to avoid a confrontation.  As I was driving over to Natural Bridges, I remember focusing on the space in between my hands on the steering wheel and I thought a very bizarre and strange thought.  I was kind of spacing out and in my own world.  What went through my mind is impossible to justify.  I thought, “What if he rapes me?”.   Then, for some reason my next thought was this, “Oh it’s ok I can see it coming so it won’t be so bad”.  I do believe this absurd train of thought played an important role in what I was about to walk into.  

I parked my car on a side street and made my way down to the sand.  I paced along the waters edge.  A few minutes after ten I saw him walking toward me.  He was wearing a short sleeve t-shirt which I thought was slightly unusual because it was quite chilly.  I think I shook his hand and introduced myself.  He kept walking, I said do you mind if we sit because I would like to look at you face to face.  He said that would be fine, but he wanted to take a little walk first.  We headed toward one end of the beach and within the first 2 minutes of meeting him he became confrontational.  He said that my daughter was sure to have abandonment issues since she was being raised by parents living in two separate homes.  I felt my defenses flare up.  I held my ground calmly and stood behind my belief that Lucy’s dad and I were doing what was best for her.  In efforts to change the subject I said “So tell me about why you are doing this experiment”.  He became very agitated.  His eyes narrowed, his body became tense and rigid and he began gesturing his hands in a sharp way.  I remained calm.  He was freaking out saying that he didn’t feel like there was fertile ground to begin this conversation.  I told him that I was surprised by his abruptness because we had talked on the phone and had text messaged about the nature of our meeting which was conversation about his idea.  He seemed to be unaffected by my pointing out these facts and remained disturbed.  I was fully emerged in my own spirit and in my body.  My feet were firmly planted in the sand.  He was energetically out stretching his force, trying to arouse anger in me but I didn’t budge.  I asked him what he needed me to do so that he would feel safe to talk.  I also stated that we didn’t have to talk, that he could walk away at anytime.  He argued that I didn’t understand what he was saying.  I said that I did, I just needed him to be specific with what he needed.  Finally he calmed down and said that he needed to know more about me before he would feel safe to tell me the motivation behind his project.  I don't know if it was because I got the sense from him that he was on a mission to learn something in the form of a year long endeavor of practicing different behavior or if I was being guided by a bigger force but I had this feeling that my focus as identifying as a witness to his story somehow kept me grounded throughout the next hour or so.  

I explained that I was writing a book on relationships and connection and that the original format had changed slightly since I had been continuously writing about the same man for quite a number of segments.  I told him I was fascinated by relationships and how doing things differently can be just the thing to help one get out of behavior patterns that seemed to have been previously set in stone.  When he was satisfied with my disclosure he began his monologue.  He referred to romantic or flirtatious interactions with women as charging and re-charging.  When interfacing sexually with women he felt weak and he would be subject to the itch, the compulsion to charge and recharge.  He made a gesture into his arm, like that of starting a line, and then a digging or burrowing motion.  He made it clear, this was clearly painful for him and at times a form of torture.  I asked him if I could take a few notes, he said that was ok.  He talked about girls on campus.  “Girls in their Ugg boots, their yoga pants, their breasts hanging out of their shirt”.  That they would just pass him by. “You know, that’s they way girls up there dress you know? Just asking for attention, it’s a status symbol” he said.  He said that they hook him, he sees them walking by and they get the hook in him.  Then he feels powerless.  He’s hooked but he can’t do anything about it.  He wants to have sex with them but he can’t.  His eyes narrowed again.  He sat up straight puffed out his chest.  He described his frustration.  He feels so angry and frustrated, and then I saw it, I saw something different.  I saw a confusion in his face and a switch of his eyes.  I saw a little boy.  A little boy who couldn't figure out for the life of him why this was such a problem for him.  Then in a split second, his eyes changed again into the protector of that little boy, like a momentum that couldn’t be stopped, the guy who would get his way.  The guy who would provide that boy with what he needed.  In my head I was following his story.  Then I realized he had deviated from the usual explanation of sex given by the men who are safe to me.  He was talking about rage and sex.  He was talking so fast, he would not let me speak.  

At that juncture I was compelled to say something, some little voice inside me said call his bluff.   “Prove to him you aren't afraid of him, this could save your life”.  I reached out and put my hand on his knee.  I said, “Can I interrupt you for a moment?” “Listen I have to tell you something really weird, I have no idea where this came from but I have to tell you.  On the way over here I had this thought.  I thought what if he rapes me?  I’m not worried about it I see it coming I’ll be fine, but I realized I wouldn’t be fine, that would be horrible.”  He just sat there and stared back at me.  He didn’t ask me any questions and said nothing about my statement.  Then he went on describing in detail how if we were to get into a physical fight I would clearly lose.  If we got into an argument, I would lose.  If I called the police on him they would believe him and not me.  I was starting to get the impression that we were not having a conversation, but the tone was beginning to feel more like a confession.  He started to explain that he had once attended an event on a college campus where victims of rape were invited to share their stories.  “These girls that were going up there in their Ugg boots and their yoga pants had that special piece of themselves stolen permanently.”  I was looking up at him and his face was completely framed in white fog.  Almost as if I was watching him on a screen or inside of a picture frame.  The world stopped.  I think I was seeing his essence.  I stopped him again and said  “Yes, you are right, there was a piece stolen from me,  I thought I could never get it back.  I was never able to trust men.  I couldn't allow a man to love me.  I could never have a man touch me without old wounds being re-opened and relived.  But this year I met men whom one by one, each put a piece back by loving me without asking for or expecting sex.  Then date#16 showed me how a man can be, how he can be gentle, loving and passionate.  My new found sense of wholeness and my love make it possible for me to fully give myself to him.  Wonderful, beautiful, kind and caring men helped me heal that broken piece.” He asked if he could hug me, I said yes. He held me tight.   He was the one who determined the release of the embrace.  I can’t shake it, he was all about control.

thank god I’m moving on this train.  take me away from him take me away from them those men who are sick, the men who were not protectors but were perpetrators.  Those fucking sick men who prey on the vulnerable instead of finding a way to heal.  The necessary evils “I cant help but notice the beauty and horror that surrounds me on an everyday basis.”  I feel my insides becoming stiff and sick my stomach tuns and I feel weak like Im going to throw up or hit someone.  I feel shame and grief and weak and disgusting.  You didn’t just take, you injected me with poison as well.   I texted lylah and date#16 just now as I am writing this.  I need them I need their support.  I need their love.  I am weak and fragile.  Just got a hug from each of them over text.  

I did not run away, I looked into his eyes, I felt no fear.  When he pulled out his knife, I noticed the sharp steal blade.  It was about six inches long and it looked as if it had never been used to cut anything like a box or rope.  It was clean, shiny and sharp, very, very sharp.  I looked at the tip, it was as sharp as a broken shard of glass, the sleek curved edge of the blade tapered into a jagged edge which lead into the handle.  He began circling the top of his coffee cup with the pin point of his knife.  I thought, “He could cut me right here, right now, if he’s really this crazy, he’s not going to care if the man in the parking tower 100 feet away sees him.” We sat there on that log facing eachother,  he put the knife away only to pull it back out  a few seconds later, then he stuck it in the log.  I did not run away, I looked into his eyes, I felt no fear.  When he was finished talking we both walked back up to our cars and said goodbye.  I was slightly numb and feeling very overwhelmed.  I felt heavy and still as I drove home.  The sun was beginning to come out which intensified my feeling of emergence from a foreign dimension.

I can’t help but think about how things would have been different if I didn’t remain calm.  If I hadn’t said those things I was compelled to say.  When I got home I started to realize I felt like I had been sitting in a cage with a gorilla and had walked out free and unscathed.  The more I thought about it the more it seemed he was really acknowledging what he had done.  He was acknowledging what I believe he had taken from many women.   I thought about date#16 and all the good in the world in contrast to this sick man who was suffering.  Was he caught between his morals and his mind? I am overwhelmed.  I felt like as I was sitting there, he was apologizing to all the women he had ever raped or wanted to.   

the aftermath

I debated whether to email date#16, and decided to send him a brief message about what had happened and expressed that I was pretty freaked out and I thought a hug from him might help. I trust date#16 with my life.  He responded, saying anytime.  He came over to comfort me.  I told him the story and he was relieved that I was ok.  He said he felt protective of me.  We watched some TV and fell asleep in eachothers arms.  In the middle of the night,  I awoke with a dull headache and circular thoughts of encounter#19’s face, his mannerisms and the control he was exhibiting over me.  I woke up date#16.  I told him I was having a hard time, and I said I was scared, grateful and overwhelmed.  I began to cry.  Date#16 put his hand on my back and was a solid witness to my fear.  I felt safe to let it out in front of him.  I always do.  When the anxiety passed I fell back asleep, knowing the man lying next to me was pure love.  

three days later:

By Thursday I was having a hard time keeping my anxiety in check.  Panic attacks were brimming in my veins.  I was trying hard to take care of myself but I was breaking.  I couldn’t get the image of that knife out of my head.  I couldn’t control the adrenaline in my body.  I couldn’t help but play in my mind what could have happened.  At around 4:00 p.m. I went to get something to eat.  By 4:30 p.m.  I was rushing out of the restaurant, so I could begin walking as fast as I could to try and keep from hyperventilating.  I got a hold of Lylah.  I could barely speak.  I was sobbing walking down Pacific, just trying to get home.  She asked me what I thought would make me feel better.  I said, date#16.  She instructed me to go over to his house, and whether he was there or not, go hang out there until I felt better.  Barely breathing I made it home, got into my car and drove over to his place.  

He wasn't there so I sat out on his deck.  I felt a slight decompression.  I sat there for a few minutes and then decided to go inside and lay down on his bed.  I felt a little intrusive, but I did feel better.  I found some dull colored pencils and a piece of paper.  I drew a picture with the sharpest ones.  Gold, Red and black.  An abstract shape with a blade on one side.  Just being in his space provided a calm energy for me to feel safe.  Surrounded my earth and straw in his cob house, which he made himself, gave me immense comfort.  When I was finished drawing I could breathe again.  My plan was to to go to Kiva for a sauna and a tub and then go dance afterward.  Before I left I wrote date#16 a note on the picture I had drawn.  Along the edge in a circular fashion I wrote that I had come over to calm down, as I was having a rough time with my head.  I said I felt better.  And then in the very inside of the circle I wrote: I love you.  I was pretty convinced that I had lost my mind.  

After dancing I was feeling extremely raw and about to burst again.  Lylah came with me and we met at my house after wards.  I began to go into a severe PTSD episode.  I was too far gone.  When I am this triggered it begins to resemble a seizure.  I couldn’t speak, I was keeping my breath as steady as I could, I was sitting at my computer and date#16 had sent me a response to my note, saying sorry he missed me and that he liked my note.  I wrote to him over email, I was having a pretty bad attack, he asked If I wanted to come over.  By that time I couldn’t type anymore,  all I could do was rock and breathe quickly while taping my legs.  It was the best I could do.  Lylah replied yes for me.  I was losing it, but I knew I had to come up with some way to calm down enough so I could get out the door to safety, to him.  

We came up with this game, a kind of free association question game.  We asked eachother any question and then gave the first answer that came to mind even if it was complete nonsense.  

Lylah: Whats your favorite food?

Me: wood chips

But it worked.  It even got pretty funny and my breathing was back under control.  We got to his house and we navigated the path to his place with the light of her computer.  I felt like a special delivery.  I felt so loved.  At my most vulnerable of times I was taken care of, I was not alone.  He gave me a hug and Lylah hung out for a minute, then left us to watch The Daily Show.  He was kind and present and available.  We got tired and snuggled close in his twin bed.  I kissed him.  It helped quiet the fear in my head.  Then we made love to eachother.  I am not triggered by him.  Having sex with him made me feel even closer to him and even more safe.  

we have to stay friends

     The next morning we woke up and carried on as usual.  I was content to let things be.  A few days went by,  I was working on giving him space.  But then Friday morning I realized that there was a voice inside me that was no longer in denial anymore.  I knew what I wanted, and what I wanted was him.  

“To compromise is to make a deal between different parties where each party gives up part of their demand.  In arguments, a compromise is a concept of finding agreement through communication, through a mutual acceptance of terms—often involving variations from an original goal or desire. Extremism is often considered as antonym to compromise, which, depending on context, may be associated with concepts of balance and tolerance.” 

How did you know he is the one worth staying for? Why do you stay? When is it time to move on? 

Elijah’s friend who is in her thirties, motto is “never be the one who loves more”, but he says she’s bat shit crazy and single.   So I started to wonder what if date#16 wasn’t willing to commit because he could tell I wasn’t either? 

Here is what I’m not going to do, I will not write him a message right now saying that I’m over it and I deserve better, or am I?  Well maybe I’ll write it, but I wont send it.

Dear Date #16,

As you know I have been torn between hanging in there with you or walking away.   I realized I want something more consistent.  I feel this is important and have decided to move on.  I hope that you continue to find yourself and I hope I can stay open as I continue to find myself as well.  You have taught me so much about staying present, communication, space, distance, sex and honesty.  You are a wonderful man.  I wish we could have continued to grow closer and perhaps turn that into a steady love and companionship.  I see this is not what you want.  After thinking about it, that is something that I am not willing to compromise.  I know that I am very desirable, I am capable of a healthy relationship that feels good.  If I’m not what you want, then there is no reason for me to wait outside your door.  I know you said that you wouldn’t hold me to this if I changed my mind, but the thing is, I want my man to want me.  I want to know that he adores me.  I am not willing to participate in a one-sided  relationship, friendship or other wise.    I wish you the best with all of your projects and I am sure your beautiful light  will shine through as you come deeper into yourself.  

Peace, Love, Dove,

ME

Except I just did,  I just sent it.

I called Lylah, and told her that I sent him that email.  She stopped me from going into blaming him and I cried in the shower.  All I could focus on was “Don’t lose it, hold it together” I knew if I really began to feel the implications of my actions I would be as good as stampeded.  I had to focus on taking care of myself and getting support.  

an hour later:

Oddly enough I feel fine.  I feel right, just and good.  This is what I have been waiting for, this feeling.  This feeling of stoic uprising of power that know that I cant’t lose.  I have reached my limit and he has said the magic words.  He doesn’t want a relationship.  I’m out.  Ok I wont lie, it kinda hurts but that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.   I just do what I can to be true to myself and at the very least I know I want a relationship, I want a partner, someone to share my life with.  I want a man who wants to be there in a romantic relationship, this is not something I can compromise.  

I called Mark and he was available to have breakfast so we met at Zachary's.  I was excited to share with him my perfect solution to my seemingly recurrent problem.  Upon meeting a new guy in my future, I would broach the issue head on and ask “Are you interested in a relationship ever, at some point, with anyone?”  It seemed logical to me.  I was so tired of crashing and burning during the lift off period. 

In the afternoon I went for a walk on West Cliff with a new dancer friend.  I was especially grateful to have friends keep me company.  I felt like I was on the verge of heartbreak catastrophe.  After my friend and I parted ways, I walked over to the Lane to watch the surf competition for a little while before meeting up with Elijah, later in the evening.  Some part of me was thinking a hot surfer boy would hit on me and get my mind off of date#16.  As I approached the fence I noticed Ted standing there.  The friend who had chosen to walk away from me because I wasn’t going to sleep with him.  I was feeling so emotionally vulnerable and tender I really didn’t feel like telling him anything that was going on with me, but figured I could say hi.  I was curious about what I might learn from this coincidence.  I stood next to him and said hello, he said hi back.  He asked me how I was.  I answered “Crazy day but don’t really feel like talking about it”.  It was awkward.  I tried asking him about his life but he gave short answers.  I asked him to tell me something enlightening.  He said he had a girlfriend.  I was surprised, as he struggles with commitment and I was curious what changed for him, maybe I was being too nosey.  He told me they had been together for eight months,  I asked if they said, I love you to eachother, he said no.  I was surprised, and maybe a little judgmental.  I said “How did you do it? commit?”  He said that he would be fine if they broke up.  I was confused.  They were in a monogamous relationship, but didn’t say I love you and seemed that he could take it or leave it.  So I opened my big mouth and said, “So does that mean you don’t care if you are with or without her?”.  He got mad and snapped “How do we get always get into conversations like this?” he said.  I was caught off guard by his anger and I quickly responed, “Oh, I forgot you don’t like talking, I’m going to go sit over here”,  and moved down the cliff and sat on some ice plant.  Eventually he left, then I left and went home.  

 

Processing my grief around my distancing myself from date#16, was feeling oddly familiar.  I have experienced it so many times with him before.  It’s a very odd sensation.  Yet, in the forefront of my mind I still can’t imagine my life without him.  But I can’t even think about being just friends at this point, I need to put some distance between us.  It funny because in the past this is what would lead to one of those back and forth break up get back together relationships.  But somehow through this process I made sure of what I wanted, and was very clear about the fact that if our status was going to change, it must be completely initiated by him.  I have an odd sense of joy and hurt and something like he is still with me in my heart.  I would be lying if I said I don’t expect a miracle to happen and that we will still be together somehow, someday.  But once again I know this about me, not about him.  He is an awesome person and he did not abandon me.   I know he would be willing to go to dinner with me if I asked.  He liked me, it wasn’t about that.  Right now my job is to take care of myself, surround myself with loving friends, and stay open to letting the surprise stuff happen.  I can redefine this loss.  I can look at it as a break, he’s still here and I will love him from a distance.  I truly have no idea what the future will bring.  I can love within this mystery too.  The mystery of not knowing where his story will lead him and where my story will lead me.  I have this sense of peace that all is not lost.  He showed me what love is.  I never would have admitted this yesterday, but I loved him.  My fortune cookie after dinner tonight at Little Shanghai said, “Everyone has the right to choose ones own lifestyle”  Well off to a bonfire on the beach with friends.  

Elijah met me at my house and we drove over to Mark’s beach party.  I told Elijah the whole story and he listened intently, as he always does, with amazing supportive intention.  He listened with out blaming.  We stayed back from the group so that we could talk privately.  We walked down onto the sand.  Mark seemed gruff and admitted he was grumpy.  I leaned on him.  I asked him if he wanted to dance it out.  We walked a few feet away from the group and began throwing each other around, down onto the sand.  We were blurting out words of frustration.  The physical push and resistance was therapeutic. We kept wrestling until we felt a shift.  We slowly tapered down and rejoined the group.  The moon was yellow, enormous and headed toward the horizon.  I stood there with two men who loved me even in my weakest moments.  They are not waiting for their turn to sleep with me, they care about me as a person.  Night fell and the bonfire grew, and Mark arranged for us to burn a woman figure as an offering, representing what we wanted to be rid of.  We sang together accompanied by drums, the voices of community helped us let go of our fears.  I let go of my fear of rejection.  

Elijah and I went to Kiva for a hot tub and sauna.   Elijah listened and validated my feelings.  He did not attack date#16.  Over the next few hours I let myself feel my feelings and I shared my grief.  I cried in the sauna emptying my sadness, I liked date#16 so much we just wanted different things.  I went back and forth from the hot sauna to the cold shower.  I revealed a secret to Elijah, one which I had never said out loud before.  I told him one of the ways in which I cope with extreme bursts of pain such as ripping off a bandaid, jumping into cold water or getting a shot is to convince myself that if I experience this short moment of extreme pain,  I will get the love I wanted from my soulmate.  I was sweating, my skin was hot and sadness traveled through my body.  I stood under the shower waiting to pull the handle to release freezing cold water to pour over my head and flow down my body.   I thought of him, I thought of how if he would only say he loved me back that I would endure all the pain in the world.  The shock of the cold water, brought me back to reality and refreshed my senses.  

By midnight I had determined that there was no way I was going to be strong enough to follow through with my plan of never seeing him again.  Anytime I heard people talking about politics or heard a pun I cried.  I had no idea how separating from him could be the right thing.  I realized that all I wanted to do was tell him about it.  I wanted to tell him that was having a hard time with my decision.   By 1:00 a.m. I was sure the solution to the extreme pain I was feeling was was to tell him about it, after all telling him about what’s bothering me always makes me feel better.  By 2:00 a.m. I was pretty sure I had no idea what I was talking about.  I fell asleep to the thought of pure defeat.  I was clear concerning one thing, I knew nothing. 

The next morning I woke up at eight o’clock and I knew what I had to do.  I needed to tell him we had to stay friends.  I felt it in every cell of my body, and I had to tell him now.  Should I get dressed and stop by his place on my way to work?  Nope, right now.  In my pajamas, teeth not brushed, hair disheveled, coffee in hand I drove over to his house.  I knew there was a possibility he might not be there, that she might be there, or some other girl  could be.  I tried not to think about it.  I drove over to his place with one thing circling in my mind, I could’t lose him. I pulled up, his van was there.  I walked around the corner his bike was there.  My feet crunched leaves and sticks as I walked on the path back to his place.  He heard me coming and I saw him sit up in his bed through the glass door.  I opened the door poked my head in and looked for her.  He was alone, deep breath.  I went in and sat down on his bed.  He looked at me with an expression of excitement to see me, which quickly transitioned in to a look of fear.  Fear of what I might say.  I said “Can I just sit here until I figure out what I am going to say?”  He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me tight.  I looked at him and said, “We have to be friends, I don’t care what you do, we have to be friends”. “OK” he said.   “I’m just so accustomed to telling you how I feel, I think I might need it”, I said.  I laid down next to him and we talked about our week’s events. We were friends there was no denying it.  We love to talk to each other.  He squeezed me tight, our faces got close but we didn’t kiss.  I felt right again.    

later in the week:

I haven't eaten anything except cheese and crackers all day.  I’m feeling overwhelmed.  I feel like I am spinning out of control. I just booked a train ticket to Albuquerque, New Mexico, to go visit Jude.  Everything is spinning so fast.  I feel like the ground is just moving and my feet are supposed to just the ground running.  I am feeling like I don’t want to think about anything anymore.  I just want to do what I want.  I’m tired of reading into things.  Im tired of obsessing about shit that doesn't matter.  I am ready to let go.  So I will take a shower now.  

sick conversations

What is it I really want?  Since I don’t know when I am going to die and I may not get the luxury of a death bed, I want to know that at any given moment I could say that I loved.  I want to know that before I die, I lived.  I want to feel like my time was worth while.  Here is how I do that.

Yesterday date#16 was the sweetest man alive in my bed eating chicken soup and today I am convinced he is trying to cause me to have an aneurism.   Last night, he came down with a cold and I was more than happy to play nurse.  I made him chicken soup from scratch and kept his mug full of tea with lemon and honey.  He wasn’t feeling great the next morning but his friends were in from out of town, whom we had stayed with.  I said I would be able to hang out with them after I finished work, he said that sounded great.  In the middle of the day I began feeling a little under the weather and when I got out of work I sent a text and waited for his phone call.  

At 7:30 p.m. he called me to tell me he was in an awkward situation and she was at his house.  My first instinct of course was to say “What the fuck?”.  But since my goal is to understand where he is coming from, these are the types of situations in which I must remain calm and not run away.  I told him how I felt.  I said because he  broke plans with me to hang out with her, I felt like I wasn’t important to him and that I felt like an idiot.  There were long silences on his part.  I told him I wasn’t going to call him an asshole and hang up,  I refused to do it.  I know what your thinking, why are you putting up with this?  Because my focus is no longer inflating ego, my purpose is no longer creating enemies.  I no longer expect everyone around me to read my mind.  In the face of conflict I can drop down into my heart and see the person with whom I have conflict with compassion.  I no longer desperately use anger to control situations.  They unfold as they will and I witness my emotions ebb and flow.  I repeatedly asked him in a calm voice, “How did this happen?”,  there were some awkward periods of silence.  This is very important.  I gave him space to answer the question. I didn’t lose my temper.  Eventually he said that he neglected to speak up and she ended up over there.  His friends from out of town wanted to see her and he was not able to peak up and say that he has already invited me to come over that night.  We had already been on the phone for 10 minutes and it kept cutting in and out.  He said he felt like, the conversation wasn’t over but he also felt like he needed to get back to the food he was cooking and should get off the phone.  I emphatically said,  “I am all for finishing the conversation later but you need to say something to make this better, because I am not going to spend the next 24 hours feeling like this!”   He said that he didn’t mean to imply that she was more important than me.  But he realized how  I would interpret that way.  I stayed calm.  He apologized and said that he looked forward to talking more about it later.  He offered to come over and make me soup and tea the next day day.  I agreed and said I felt good enough to table the conversation until tomorrow.  We very clearly said he was to come over at 1:00 p.m. I reiterated that meant he wasn’t supposed to make plans with anyone else for that time.  We both laughed and agreed.  We made it through.  

In the morning:

I’m seriously at a loss for what to do, which means I should not decide anything and I most certainly shouldn’t run away.  I think one thing that not running away has taught me is that I can state my needs and stand my ground instead of withdrawing.  Sure sometimes I feel like I am being squashed like a bug but I think a little deflating of my ego could’t hurt.  The truth is I am not really afraid of running away.  I think its to late for that,  what I am more afraid of is feeling bad and worthless based on the fact that he has a lot of growing up to do.  I guess I have to weigh my options.  Does what I feel for him make putting my pride aside and knowing that his lack of communication up front and planning have nothing to do with me?  I can allow space.  More than anything he is a sweet man that I can talk about all of this with.  We have productive conversations.  He does things that piss me off.  He can be irresponsible.  He makes decisions without considering the consequences.  I get my feelings hurt.  He’s coming over today to watch movies.

In the afternoon:

I’m sick and I am waiting for him to come over.  He said he would be here at 1:00.  It is now 1:01.  I feel my stomach tense, I feel the fear rise into my body and my head calm it back down, I wait to hear the knock on the door.  I take a deep breath, I know if he doesn’t show up now I am going to be faced with a serious dilemma of having to acknowledge that this relationship is not fulfilling.  I have certain bottom lines and following through with your word is one of them.  I am not willing to compromise trust and or following through.  Where the hell is he?  What the fuck am I doing, oh for god sake.  With every minute that goes by I feel more and more stupid.  He better show up soon.  Is he testing me? That whats it feels like.  I feel like he’s testing me to see how far he can push before I break.       

conversation#1

“I’m an asshole and I suck at life”.  I told him he must be getting some sick pleasure out of saying that because he wasn't really taking responsibility for what he had done or how it would be different next time.  He said “And you want rob me of that pleasure?”,  I burst out laughing.  “Yes, yes I do” I said.  I brought up seeing other people and how I was considering going out with other guys again.  He said that he thought that was a good idea, I said that I didn’t want him to think it was a good idea. I confessed I was tempted to skew it into making him feel jealous.  It started to become clear that he was not thinking in terms of where we were going.  This was very difficult to hear.  Sounds of shattering glass fell upon my ears.  He just said he was not looking for a relationship.  I told him I wanted to pick apart everything he had ever said and try to prove him wrong.  He said that seemed the expected logical thing to do.  I said I wasn’t going to do that.  I asked if he had slept with her, last night.  He said yes.  I felt enraged, I said I was getting too upset and suggested we take a break and go for a walk and go rent a few movies.  In hind sight, as I am remembering how that happened it feels so good,  almost like I want to do it again.  It’s like coming to the edge of orgasm and then backing away from it.  Anyway we walked to the store and rented some movies.  

conversation#2

We came back to my house and started the conversation again.  We must have come to some satisfactory resolution, because we had sex.  I walked him over in front of the mirror while he held me by all of my hair, performance oriented, but that is where we are right now.  He is leading the dance right now.  I wanted to ask him at some point if I still make him feel stuff, like he had said in the beginning.  I felt him withdrawing.  Him withdrawing is new,  he feels me becoming attached.  He has fear that being in a relationship leads him to not having freedom, like certain avenues are closed.  He is not talking about just freedom to have sex with other women.  He is talking about feeling emotionally responsible for them.  I said I understood his point of view, and until now I didn’t know that a healthy relationship meant that no one felt trapped.  We don’t make eye contact much during sex anymore, we stopped having slow passionate sex weeks ago.  We are meeting each other where we are at.  He is pulling away and I am letting out the line.  I find I am still able to put my passion into sex if my mouth is doing the work.  He can’t really feel the intensity in my heart when it’s in his lap.  It’s a compromise.  I tell him to come right away and I have some control over this sex that is only partially satisfying.  He always gets me there, and can get me there fast because I am so attracted to him and I feel safe with him regardless of his guarded disposition.  If we do make it through this period of separation, we will eventually be closer together again.  This is why space is important.  He said the other day that you can have a ton of space and not a lot of distance.  Two houses can be on 50 acres of land each but they might be 10 feet from each other over the property line.    He is telling me with his sex what he needs.  I believe men speak with their bodies first.  Their bodies are in tune with what they feel before the word form in their minds.  By the time it occurs to them to use words to describe how they feel, it’s to late, they already feel in over their heads.  Knowing this, I interpret  body language to represent talking in a whisper, a warning sign.   The first sign of a need being stated.  I don’t believe that body language should be interpreted as permanent statement.  I can look at it as his subconscious asking for what he needs.  The way to make this work in a healthy way is to not predict his need but to be in-tune with my intuition and be aware that his needs are being communicated in a non- verbal way.   

conversation#3

In the middle of the movie right at the part when they had agreed to be open free lovers, I had to say something.  I couldn’t get around the fact that I saw us headed toward a relationship and he was so clearly saying that wasn’t what he wanted or where he thought we were headed.  We had talk number three. Somehow we came to the conclusion that it might just have to be ok like that for a while.  I was allowed to have my feelings and he was allowed to have his.  We continued to watch the movie.  

conversation#4

I just couldn’t stand it.  I told him I wished there was an alternate universe I where I could say what I needed to say to him and then come back like it never happened.  What was about to come out of my mouth wasn’t going to be peaceful, loving, or sane, I was erupting.  I didn’t have to yell, but I felt like I had been pushed over my edge.  I couldn’t stop thinking about him and his ex having sex.  I tried to fight it, but against my better judgment  I asked him who was better in bed.  He said he didn’t really think about it in those terms.  I gave him a “This hurts me more than it hurts you” look and said “Lie to me”.  He said she smelled funny.  It helped.  I laughed and couldn’t help but notice, how he came up with an insult rather quickly.  I adored the fact that he knew exactly what I was asking for, without me having to spell it out.  Of course I wondered if he would say the same about me, if she had asked. but I don’t think she’s that smart.  Yet, there was no escaping her, she was keeping me trapped  between hell and and a hard place.  Him being the hard place that I wish I was between and underneath. 

My hurting head was spinning, words were flying out of my mouth.  I didn’t even knowing what I was saying.  Out of panic and despair I said “We can’t see each other anymore”.  I felt my heart attack, then I said, “I can't survive that I’ll be crying for days”.  Fuck, Fuck, I must love this suffering, or love him.  I must why else would I keep doing it.  Ok I’ll just stay and be humiliated by her on a weekly basis.  What the fuck am I going to do?  He said I don’t have to make a decision right now.  He said that if we didn’t see each other then he would be ok with that.  I said I didn’t want him to be ok with that.  He said that If I changed my mind, he wouldn’t hold me to it.  That’s when I felt it, I felt a strange and peculiar shift.  I felt like my insanity was accepted.  I let my guard down a little.  I went off on a tangent concerning my distaste for her.  He just sat there listening to me as I continued to rant from the bathroom.  I exclaimed a number of reasons why I didn’t like her and why I thought he shouldn’t either.  After my tantrum, I came back out and took a seat in front of my computer.  He looked like he was falling a sleep, I fooled around online for a little while and then joined him in bed.   

He’s has changed my values.  I was thinking about sex and what it means.  I used to think that being a sex goddess was the final destination and as long as I had them interested in sex, then I had them wrapped around my little finger, but the thing here is, he is getting sex from someone else so I’m left with what?  On the third day that we had known each other we were laying in my bed and with tears in my eyes I acknowledged what was really important to me was his interest in me as a person.  He said that he could see us being friends for a very long time.  

Then today, he asked me if I’d be interested in a platonic friendship only?  I said no.   Thinking that it would be too hard but maybe that wasn’t what he was asking.  After thinking about it for a while,  I retracted my earlier statement and told him I was willing to be just friends.  I guess I just got lost in the jealousy and the track and  I wanted expected to go down.  Did I forget my resolve to be his friend no matter what? Apparently I did.  I got caught up in my desire, yet the desire is also so important.  It is what fuels this fire.  If what I am going for is equality in my relationship, then there is way more to intimacy than my using sex for power.  My desire for an equal and fulfilling relationship leaves me feeling inadequate since I have always used sex to have the upper hand.  Once again he breaks me down.  We should work on the friendship it’s where I need work, in big way and where he is getting his needs met.  Seems like a nice compromise to me.  

What the fuck?  What the hell am I doing?  Everyone is going to think I am an idiot.  Everyone will think I should have walked along time ago, everyone including me.  I feel small and unimportant.  I keep practicing trust but then inevitably I come back around to distrust.  The disgusting details, of how I feel are something I wish I could keep off the record.  I even thought about taking date#16 out of the writing completely.  But Lylah insisted I keep on writing, and telling the truth so here goes.  My head tells me I am stupid, my desire for peace is causing me to feel like a doormat.  My desiring of him and not wanting to part ways is pummeling my ego and pride.  I look pathetic.  I have come so far, and what I really think is that at this point is I know absolutely nothing.

Dear Date#16,

I’m considering not putting you my blog/book from this point forward.  The reason being that in the beginning my intention was to navigate the crazy world of dating, which turned into the crazy world of me, which turned into the crazy world of us.  I feel on some level I was trying to demonstrate how open and honest communication and sustainable relationships can never fail.  Now I am pretty convinced that I have no idea what I am talking about.  All of my rules and lessons learned are irrelevant, each situation with you morphs and mutates depending on where you are and where I am emotionally.   I like that you said that you wouldn’t be the one to say that you didn’t want to hang out with me.  You have to understand that I am being as real as I can be and am trying to be happy.  In one of my writings I say the lesson is in the mess.  Well things between us certainly feel messy.  Thank you for not becoming angry and freaking out last night when I was having a really hard time.  Your baseline of friendship is really proving to me that it is ok to be myself around you.  I hope you can feel the same.  I love our conversations and how we try to stay calm and connected even when I slip and freak out every now and then.  I love how you get along with Lucy and I enjoy when we all hang out together.  

ME

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.