forgive and hold pinkie fingers

I will remember to let go of my fear as I am writing this.  I will remember the joy and excitement I feel when I am near him.  Date#16 came over and we decided to go surfing.  It had been almost a week since I had seen him last and living within the mystery, not knowing where we were headed, was a package still waiting to be opened.  I had not worried all week about our next move until the last few hours before I saw him.  Not knowing how to act when we first see each other is a predictable unpredictability.  It was a hot day and nothing in the world sounded better than pulling on a wetsuit and navigating the ocean with him.  We drove over to Cowells beach, where I learned to surf, where I worked my first summer job in Santa Cruz and where I feel at home.  We suited up, took our boards under our arms and walked toward the stairs.  I followed closely behind him.  My toes were like antennae, informing my foot when I could flatten my heel.  Carefully I stepped around the the green and black moss covering the stairs that lead down into the ocean.  There was a clearing at the bottom, but rocks can suddenly appear, depending on the tide.  I didn’t want to fall in front of him.  The tide was low enough where we could see a path when the water was drawn out.  The waves were practically were nonexistent.  The moment my feet hit the water I become aware of the danger zones.  Entering and exiting the powerful ocean, a force of energy where unpredictable things happen, is all about timing.  I needed to find the opening.  Being aware of the space can mean the difference of feeling safe or working hard to stay above water, depending on the day.   I still get nervous until I get out past the break.  I have always liked the feeling of smooth sailing once I am happily balanced on my board.  My world is split into two parts, what’s above and whats below the surface of the water.  I loved being out there with him on the same level alone.  The last time we were in the water together was a week after we met and he was heartbroken, it felt like years ago.  This time it felt like we had a history that had not yet established the first time.   The water was cool and fresh, I was on crappy foam board that my friend had given to me and he was on a 9 foot fiberglass long board.  I was struggling to keep up with his pace, as I am out of practice and my board was not efficient.  He slowed down and asked if I wanted me to trade boards with him.  I told him “It’s ok, I’ll just wait until I get tired”, so he went on paddling.  I looked at his feet getting further away and he was gaining speed.  I began paddling faster and faster but after only moments, both of my arms flopped at my sides, my hands feeling like ten pound weights.  I couldn’t keep up.  I yelled “ You know what? The lesson of you if nothing else, is deflating my pride and ego.”  

“That doesn’t sound good”, he said, 

“Oh yes it is”,  I replied.  

He stilled and let me catch up.  I abashedly paddled next to him and eventually my embarrassment subsided.  I remember telling him last time we went surfing, it always felt good to go out surfing.  But I then remembered there were times where I would go out by myself and I would be so self conscious of my ability, I would feel shame and it would leave me feeling like I didn’t want to try anymore, eventually I didn’t.  I wanted to keep surfing but I couldn’t shake the feeling of people judging me.  It kept me out of the water for over a decade.  It wasn't until I met date#16 that I even realized how much I missed surfing and remembered how fun it once was.  

We floated close to each other and found a stillness,  he laid on his back and I laid on my stomach, each on our respective boards.  I rested my head on my arm and our hands floated toward each other.  We closed our eyes and locked pinkie fingers so we wouldn't drift apart.  I noticed the silence and the comfort.  We laid there for a few minutes, bobbing up and down and drifting closer and then further apart.  I imagined the sensations out of context.  With my eyes closed I imagined that we were no longer in the ocean and our bodies were somehow just magically seemingly weightless, bouncing through space.  We sat back up and traded boards.  We spotted a mama otter with her baby on her tummy.  I made my way closer to them to get a better look.   All of a sudden I was compelled to paddle straight off toward the horizon.  It was nearing dusk and the water beneath me was clear, then faded into a deep green.   With each stroke I glided over the surface of metallic blue, the water was so calm it looked like a sheet of mercury.  The horizon was a deep black line and the sky was light blue edging into lighter purples and pinks.  I loved knowing that I could break away from him, knowing I didn't have to hold back.  I let my arms take me as fast as they could and sounds of the board lapping at the nose, and water coming off my fingers were the only sounds I heard.  I stopped to check and see how far behind I had left him, he was on his way over to me.  We followed the otter and her pup back toward shore, oooing and ahhing over their cuteness.  I liked the way he revered the mother/baby relationship.  On some level it created a sensation of safety in me.  Without saying so we paddled back toward the stairs and he caught two waves, which makes my heart sink just thinking about it, truly exhibiting his expertise.  We made it up he stairs unscathed.  

We got in his van and once we were on the road (after nearly leaving our boards there) I asked timidly, where things stood with his girlfriend.  I was so nervous.  I had been trying to stay neutral about what his week would reveal to him and there it was, the moment where we could either mover closer together or further apart.  He told me he had a realization that his preoccupation with being with her was more about her and other people, and not about his relationship with her.  He said that sometimes they would get along but inevitably they would end up fighting and then he would be left wondering what he was doing.  He said that controlling what she did didn’t seem appealing.  He wanted to be free to do what he wanted to as well.  I was ecstatic.  “I’m so happy” I said, I really was.  I sat the in that moving vehicle knowing that my patience had allowed space for him to flourish and take care of himself.  It felt amazing.   We drove to the grocery store, and I was on top of the world.  We pulled in to the parking space and he was taking his time putting his shoes.  I walked around to his side and reached my arm around him, he had the greatest smile on his face.  Happiness, pure happiness.  

We came back to my place and made perogis listened to Frank Zappa and shared stories of gentle debauchery.  Being in a secure healthy relationship seems unreal to me.  Granted my friendships have been improving over the last year or so but put against a background of 30 years of dysfunctional and unhealthy relationships, I feel a little like I’m dreaming.  Waiting for the other shoe to drop, yet really having confidence that this time is different.  I have to, if  I don’t want to sabotage this.  I have never tried trusting before, I’m not inventing problems, care taking or falling into victim mode and it’s quite surreal.  We were eating dinner and he commented on how he felt pretty out of it too, like he was dreaming.  I’d like to think that his sensations are as a result of him being swept off his feet.  My gut feeling was he was surprised by the ease and safety of our interaction as well.  Our interactions seem to have a magic about them, a certain kind of kismet energy that is easy.

Recently my friend told me “Be careful who you get introduced to, you might end up marrying them”.  I laughed, I think the deeper meaning of his statement was about letting go and letting the surprise stuff happen.  I think it has to do with the power of perception. Sometimes I wonder had the timing of my meeting of date#16 meting been different, would this still be the way things would have unfolded with him.  It makes me consider the romantic notion,  How could it be that I have wandered the planet not knowing what I never knew I absolutely could not live without.  When I’m around him I feel like he is a dream.  When I reach out and touch him I can’t believe that he is reaching back.  

I can feel it in my heart expanding, humility is washing over me like a solid wave of energy.  Every time I think about becoming angry and possessive over him, I take a deep breath and let go.  So much of my body wants to think that if he was the one for me that he would make me feel great all of the time, like a drug.  But he is not a substance, he is a person, with his own life, his own beautiful qualities.  This is a practice, a steady practice of letting him be.  It will overflow into everything about him, I must trust him.  When I think about why  I have never been able to maintain a long term relationship (past 2 years), I know it is because I have left stomping my feet, angry that they didn’t comply with my demands.  Most of the time it had something to do with the person of my affections finding it impossible to keep me on that infatuation high.  I have looked at relationships as something that was ingested, and once the effects wore off then I moved on to the bigger better high.  At this time in my life I must look at what I can replace that feeling of unrest with.  Whether it is focusing on my own life and moving in a forward positive direction or congratulating myself for not running even though I am not feeling the effects of the endorphins.  I must have faith in his ability to make good choices for himself.  Perhaps the thing about an equal relationship that I have been missing all along, is not only about mutual affection and adoration, but also seeing him as a person who is equally capable of living his life in the way that he wants to.  My relationship with him has nothing to do with her.  He and I have something special, that no one can sever.  The only way it can remain that way is if I trust his value of me and our friendship.  

I don’t believe that I can be open only part of the time.  I must be open all of the time in all aspects of life.  That’s a pretty big statement.  I must forgive, I must love this malleable state we call living.  We can all change.  We are all forever changing.  Do I want to be happy?  Yes I do.  Do I want joy? Yes I do.  I must treat every human like a precious, intricate piece of the universe and abandon my selfish motives of getting what I deserve and welcome what comes my way as the mystery and magic unfolds.  Why? Because it feels better, it is sustainable.  Having my feet underneath me really helps.  I am transitioning from control into trust and forgiveness.  

My parents are the final frontier.  I have never had it in me to forgive either of them.  I know I am miles away from forgiving my father in anything other than just in concept, as forgiveness must come from understanding and empathy and I am not there yet when it comes to him.  So I put it in the box on the shelf and will work on it later.  My mother is someone that I have been processing for as long as I can remember, at least the last 10 years.  I am very familiar with our dance.  In a lot of ways her love for me could be described as a scenario of drug induced highs and lows.  Most of the interactions with my mother had to do with her trying to cram me into the fantasy of how I was to serve her.  It came in the form of performing well to ensure she could take credit for my good doing, wanting an instantaneous love that was not built on anything sustainable, to being a receptacle for her rage and being made into the perpetrator so she could have a release of emotional pressure.  It’s interesting how all of this sounds eerily familiar, behaviors that I have then displayed in my romantic relationships.  For many years I have attempted to explain to her that the disconnect between us simply could not be resolved by just sweeping it under the rug and synthesizing the drug of love.   I nicknamed this feeling Flove, the endorphin feeling of love, the manufactured version which is not sustainable because it is not produced within oneself, it is hijacked from a fantasy of the mind.  It comes and goes in the blink of an eye depending on where one is in the story line of the fantasy.  On the top, when one is feeling high, is the part where the person is rescued by their lover, cared for and provided for unconditionally, perhaps also in an overly passionate way.  However the person craving this high is also afraid of intimacy so if the desire is actually reciprocated with consistency, it triggers a feeling of being suffocated.  There is no build up in these relationships, it’s all or nothing.  On the bottom end, the crash, is acknowledgment that the fantasy eventually comes to and end and the high simply can not be maintained.  

I relate it to sustainable farming practices.  When soil is over farmed, all of the nutrients have been sucked out of the soil.   These relationships have no real sustainable form of replenishing what’s good and what’s true.  Sustainable practices in relationship are slow moving, they don’t look like fire woks all of the time.  In fact, some of them are outright painful.  The transition into even and equal exchanges of realistic and maintainable building blocks of a healthy relationship, are only attained by exposing some of my inner demons and my flaws and insecurities, in a healthy way.  For example, by explaining why I feel a certain feelings and stating my fears and my anxiety in a non-blaming way.  I also state that I really like him and let it be known that I have two feet in the relationship.  I have to trust that he will like me anyway.  What makes it all worth it is an exponential growing in my capacity for love.  When I am secure in my relationship I feel happy.  The security comes from understanding and sustainable emotional exchanges. This is exactly the kind of relationship that will never happen with my mother.  I know she did the best she could.  I know she is sick.  I have empathy for her situation, but I have severe sadness too.  I am being compelled to open up some more space in my heart.  He inspires me to do so because I want more room for him.   

Could I say that I forgive my mother in a letter and still not have direct contact with her?  The wounds that were inflicted by her during my childhood are deep, they cause me to feel me panic and unsafe. My whole life I have looked at all people and relationships through this filter.  On my hard days, I can’t wrap my mind around how relationships could be anything other than one-sided.  But slowly I am seeing another way,  Slowly I am learning how to let my guard down.  I am shown that it is not about winning, but about opening.   

I feel a strike of mistrust in my vulnerability, this is why I live 3000 miles away.  I felt open and then close up like a clam.  I simply can not go near her.  I still have intense fear when I think about her.  My stomach tenses.  It is not safe but I don’t think that prevents me from forgiveness and I’m sure things like this are a process, that need to unfold and build upon each other.  I will transform my hatred and anger that I have felt for my mother and redefine it as fear.  She scared me, she hurt me, I was little, I was growing I was vulnerable all of the time.  I could not escape.  She abused me she took advantage of my love.   I am hurt, I was hurt, I cried for so long.  I spent years in my closet just trying to find a place where I could experience peace.   I was shamed, it was proved to me that I was not safe in the world, she told me things and used her words simply to compete with my abuse, so that she could let herself off the hook and feel like a victim too.  I could never be the victim because in her eyes that was her role.  I have so much fear of her, I am scared of her.  As long as I stay away from her I am safe.   

Dear Mom, 

I have fear that you won’t understand what I am saying.  I fear that you will misinterpret this letter to believe that you were a perfect mother.  Part of why I keep you at bay is because your actions when I was a child whether you were aware of it or not left me deeply wounded.  I feel that in the past when I have tried to express this you have become defensive and became the victim and were unable to take responsibility for things that actually happened during my childhood as well as discount my feelings around my own experience because you think it reflects on you too badly.  There were things about your mothering that I remember fondly, like you singing somewhere over the rainbow when I was falling asleep, I remember playing with your mouth and tapping on your teeth.  I know you took me to the library.  There are so many other memories I have of loneliness, sadness and trauma.  I wish that you could have empathized with my process and experiences sooner in my adult life, instead I felt like you denied them because you believed they were a reflection of you.  I find it hard to have a relationship with you because our perception of the first 18 years of my life are so radically different.  The thing is, I want to forgive you, but I am scared that if I do you will take that to mean that I think I had a great childhood or that the hurt I felt as a child, which still comes up in my adult relationships, was fabricated or over exaggerated. 

I am not ready for a close relationship with you.  I need you to acknowledge that you understand how it must have felt like for me growing up in a house with you and my dad.  I need you to take responsibility for the events that transpired when I was little and admit that you were the adult and I was a child.  That it was your job to protect me.  I don’t want you to feel guilty but I do want to feel understood.  I want to connect with you I always have, but I have never felt heard by you.  This is quite possibly the most vulnerable thing I have ever written.  I am terrified of the repercussions of sending this.  I fear that your response will be more of the same stuff about how you love me......that is not what I want.  What I want is for you to express to me that you understand that my childhood was scary, damaging, hurtful, harmful and ask me about my experiences.  I want to tell about my perception of what happened growing up and I want you to hear me and understand and acknowledge my pain and suffering, instead of deny it.       

This is something I have been trying to do for years and to be honest I have very little confidence that you will be capable of doing this now.  But I can tell you this, if you want to have contact with me it is a necessary part of the authentic relationship process for me.  If you can’t I don’t know where to go from there.  I know that you have survived by using this survival skill and maybe it’s out of your control and there’s no way you can do what I am asking, but I figured I would give it a try again.  Please don’t call me.  I’m not ready to talk yet.  If you call I’ll take that as a sign as you disrespecting my boundaries and it will only move us further apart.  

ME

What I just wrote still feels like the same story.  I will not send that, I will send is this:

Dear Mom,

You are human.  You have feelings and you do the best you can.  I must accept this and move on.  I forgive you.  I forgive you for everything.  But most of all I respect the fact that I am now responsible for my own life and my own joy.  I know this is just the first step, but I release the tarp that has covered all of my resentment toward you in my heart and I will let the pieces of debris float off into space.  I know it won’t happen all at once but, I have unlocked the cage that held my hatred and my deepest seeded fears.  Thank you for being my mom.  I wouldn’t be here without you.  

ME

I want to stay here, the space where I can love, the space where I have joy,  the space where I am met.  It is a space of trust,  it is mine for the taking.  

I don’t know what to feel.  I am confronted with the fact that I have to trust.  If I forgive, I let go.  I am so scared.  I don’t want to be hurt let down, abandoned.  How can I possibly trust her?  After all this time after all this time, after so many years of resentment pain and anger.  How can I possibly do this?  Because I want to be open to loving him, because I am worth my happiness, because I deserve to be happy, because the lesson is in the trust, in the process, not in the result.  He has burst my heart open and inspired me to be present to be in the moment.  He has shown me how to say what I feel, how my vulnerability can never let me down, that with love all things are possible, that magical things happen if I just open my mind to the possibilities.  There is such a huge part of me that wants to run away.  But he has shown me the benefit of living honestly with an open heart.  I practically can’t describe what I am feeling.  I feel such an incredible sense of freedom around my fear and anxiety with him.  I could act as if her responses and ways of being are not about me.  I’ll tell you one thing is for sure, I want to tell him all about it.  I want to share this experience with him.  I wasn't to open up to him like I never have before.  I want to take a flying leap toward him and let him catch me.  I have no fear.  I know he will be there.  I am amazed at how everything is interwoven and connected in my consciousness.   She triggered a fear, which lead to forgiveness of my mom, which lead to trust in him.  

this is not a hold up

          So yet again I was instructed to give the ultimatum. I was assured the only way I could possibly carry on with date#16 was to threaten him, and tell him to make a decision.  He’s already putting the pressure on himself, he doesn’t need my input.  I almost fell for it, I had visions of driving over to his house, writing a letter or writing an email to force the issue.  I began telling the story to one of my clients who has been married for over 35 years.  Pretty quickly he pointed out that human nature wasn’t going to permit me to continue being on the back burner.  I agreed, he said I needed to give him an ultimatum and tell him to choose her or me.  I said I saw where he was coming from, but I felt that it just wasn’t the right time.  I felt we were in the middle of a process.  I pointed out to my client that when in a long term relationship, there will always be times when there is a conflict of interest, inevitably difficult issues arise in relationships that last 20 or 30 years.   I said that if I saw myself going for the long haul with him, I wasn’t going to make these kinds of relationship decisions by myself, it would be navigated by the two of us.  I feel that our relationship is already some sort of partnership simply because we have set it up that way.  For just a moment I thought about a relationship defined by the interactions of the two people involved and not by onlookers.  The exchanges between date#16 and I are honest, open, positive, compromising, communicative, vulnerable, scary and trusting.  It feels like we are building a bridge between us.  Our design must allow for flexibility otherwise it will never last.  The stable foundation is within me and within him.   He can talk to me, he shows up when he says he is going to and he tells me he likes me.  But all of my reasons for hanging in there with him were being contradicted by the temptation to get I want instantly, by making him choose.  Yet everything in my body began to tense up and I started feeling anxiety again at the prospect of doing so.  I knew I would not be able to stick to my resolve and force him to make a decision.   My client tapped into my pride and  my fear of losing him.  He of course told me I was going to get hurt.  But I noticed that I felt more much more hurt at the thought of coercing him into making a decision.  It’s a real possibility that he may be with her for quite a while longer.  But how does a relationship magically repair itself, from cheating with his best friend, lying all the time, and an obvious lack of maturity?  Relationships can’t magically be healed without a tremendous amount of work.  However, out of embarrassment I left my client vowing that I was indeed going to make him decide.  

A few weeks ago a coworker of mine told us that her dog was sick, Tiki had some internal bleeding and the prognosis was not good.    The vet asked if they wanted to put her down at the office and end her life immediately.  Naomi chose to take her home and let her death happen naturally.  They had planned a big camping trip and were planning on taking Tiki with them, but when they heard the news she thought maybe they should cancel the trip.  They were devastated and a part of them wished they had never found out in the first place.  But then they realized that those were her last days and they wanted to appreciate her consciously as well as have her be happy and content during the ending of her life.  Naomi told me she was trying to hold it together so that Tiki wouldn't pick up on their grief because they just wanted her to be happy.   I started thinking about unconditional love.  It seemed as though they loved their dog unconditionally.  I could tell in Naomi's eyes and the tremble when she spoke, that she was devastated.  She clearly loved Tiki with all her heart and the idea of never seeing her dog again was unfathomable.  It was obvious that she never held back her love from her, she was her baby.  I started becoming curious about what that kind of love would feel like with another human being, and I began to get some insight concerning what losing a partner or after being together for 40 years would feel like.  If one were truly attached and happy and loved that person with all of their heart, their disappearance would be devastating.  Because of my attachment issues I have never really been capable of that kind of love before.  I began to sense that if date#16 and I kept on like this I could see myself experiencing that kind of love.  I went back to the break room and she was crying, I felt it.  She was grieving.  Tiki was gone, this loss is harsh, it required her to accept the truth that things you love pass on, go out of your reach and she will never see her again.  Grief  especially when it comes to death is multifaceted and it puts many other things in perspective.  She began talking about how much she loved her.  

My inner defiant teenager boiled up inside me and I wanted to scream.  There was no way in hell I was going to bring that kind of grief upon myself.  I already can’t imagine my life without him why on earth would I ever push him away?  If you have been lucky enough to find someone who opens your heart and shakes you yo the core, you know they are divinely given.  I know that I have been lucky enough to experience the sensation of romantic selfless love three times so far in my life.  The other two times, they walked away from me.  I had to accept that they were gone.  I let go of Garp gracefully.   I’d rather not admit the things I did trying to hold on to David, while he was walking away, it’s kind of embarrassing.  When Garp walked away I let go mostly with my dignity intact, but it nearly killed me on the inside.   My amount and stubbornness and holding on to David was in direct proportion to the the level of pain I experienced when letting Garp go.

Okay that’s it, these are the days of the internet, things have just gotten so weird.  I am perusing date#16’s Facebook profile and I find a link to her pintrest profile.  Pintrest is a website where people display images of things they like and interest them.  I go to her pintrest page find a page called “my fake wedding” laden with all of her wedding ideas, some of which have been pinned over the last two days.  Something is not right.  I’ll tell you what not right, me in the head.  Why on earth am I getting involved with this?  My fake wedding?  I’ll tell you what, the next wedding I plan is going to be real!  Oh I couldn’t help myself I had to keep looking, and as I looked deeper into her interests, I became really sad.  This wasn’t going to be easy.  I worried that my hope of his being on the verge of making a break from her is a little moronic. I know that for me endings have come when they could.  I could never force an ending and I still can’t, I don’t want to.  I don’t know what to do, other than keep breathing.  My eyes don't want to see, what’s headed my way.  I have been finding myself praying again, praying to help me stay open, praying that my love will be safe with him.  I just want it to work.  I have done so much work, trying to get better and now that I have found him why isn’t it working?  I’m feeling discouraged, stupid and scared.  Asking myself to stay positive and present is like asking Joan Rivers to be satisfied with her appearance.  I don’t want this to be about her.  I want this to be about us, he and I.  Am I good enough?  Am I what he wants? Because if I’m not, please I beg you, have a heart and let me go.  Please let me go.  I want to know if those feelings he has are easy to ignore or if they nag at him during the day and make him want to see me even though he is conflicted, even though he is not supposed to want to.  This is not how I thought this story would go.  Again I thought I could just walk away. Fuck, maybe I should.  Why can’t I just walk away?  I’m so confused.  At least I know I’m not alone, we are confused together.  I guess the reason I am staying is because I want to be his friend and I believe I always will.  I know that sounds horribly cliche and stupid but it’s what is true for me now and thats the best I can do.  I’m not sure I possess the amount of maturity it will take to really just be friends, I can’t see how in the world that will be possible.  I am so afraid I’m losing this battle, the battle within myself.  Dear god, have mercy on me, please make him decide to end it with her before monday.  

         He’s here he’s alive, not dead.  I must proceed with reckless abandon, I must proceed toward a full surrender.  

when you don't know what to do, be yourself

I believe he was a rock climber and I think she was a little older than him.  I noticed her independence.  She didn’t seem to cling to him or present herself as needy in his presence.  I remember him telling stories of his travels at the Thanksgiving dinner table and I noticed she didn’t become agitated or jealous.  I filed that away in the cabinet of my consciousness.  I was nineteen years old.  I pondered their dynamic and wondered how long they would last.  I think on some level I felt like he was a drifter and was just passing through my friend’s mom, and her four kid’s lives.  Over the last 12 years I have seen them together at the farmers market, the grocery store and restaurants.  Last week, while I was driving an image of them popped into my head.  There was something about my energy with date#16 that felt similar to what I had witnessed between them all those years ago.  

A few days later I pulled into a parking spot at Whole Foods and noticed my friends mom’s boyfriend was standing outside of the car next to me, talking to his dogs through the window.  I paused and wondered if I should explore and see if there was anything I could learn from this coincidence.  In a split second I opened my mouth not fully sure of what was to come out, and said,

“I know this is really weird, but I remember you from many years ago, are you still with Kelsey's mom?”

“Yes”, He said.

“ I just have been thinking about you guys lately because I am seeing someone and I feel like it mirrors your vibe with her” 

“Well thats a good sign”, he said

I smiled and agreed. 

 “What is it? What makes it work for you two? How have you stayed together for so long?”, I asked.

“We are ourselves and we continue to be willing to being ourselves more and more” 

I nodded my head smiling.  He commented that no one has ever approached him like that before.  And perhaps he should be more forth coming when he feels the need to take such a risk.  I said “Yeah, it’s so worth it”.  He thanked me for asking.  Lucy and I went in the store.  It seems that I have had many spiritual awakenings as a result of impromptu meetings at the grocery store.  I thanked the universe for yet another divine grocery interaction.   Monday turned into Tuesday and I successfully stayed sane until his phone call in the late afternoon.  His voice sounded sweet and mature coming through the phone, letting me know that he was off work.  I think I have only heard his voice over the phone maybe three times because he usually can only receive and send texts.  But since he lost his phone last week, he borrowed one to call me to set up our meeting time.  I pointed out that it felt weird to hear his voice over the phone and wondered if he was in there, inside of my phone.  He laughed.  I asked him if he wanted to come over before Lucy went to bed so we could all go to the beach.  He said yes.  We met at my house, grabbed our wetsuits and headed out.  We played in the water for a few hours, Lucy howled as she watched him glide over the surface of the waves on his skim board and we observed him in his element.  I love watching Lucy grow up in the ocean as well.  

This weekend when I was driving back from Lylah’s party I read a billboard that read, “The family that plays together stays together”.  We felt like family.  I asked him to watch Lucy so I could go out into the water.  I handed her over to him and he held her and I went out past the break,  I was free.  I was free to be myself.   I was free to experience fun again.  I haven’t felt like this since I was nineteen.  I swam for a few minutes, completely at peace.   

The three of us packed up,  left the beach and went back to my house.  We drove home happy.  

“That was so fun” he said, more than once.

It was.  We when we got back to my house he helped me carry stuff up the stairs.  He also made a comment when we left the beach wondering how I could get Lucy and the stroller up the stairs at the beach by myself.  We came inside and I took a shower, while he and Lucy watched silly animals on youtube.  We took pictures of us all making funny faces on my computer.  When I looked at them later on, he looked like he was supposed to be there.  I put Lucy to bed.  Once she was asleep, it was the two of us in the space of my house.  The space of the unknown once again.  He hugged me in the kitchen,  we felt drawn and then he stared making that noise.  It’s a whiney combination of empathy and guilt, I think.  I became hyper aware of what was about to transpire, and listened.  It was clear, he was back together with her.    All I could think was “What am I supposed to do?”.   No matter how hard I logically thought about it in my head, I could’t find a solution.  I believed that he was back together with her, it wasn’t that I didn’t,  it was just that it seemed so wrong.  I was frozen again, the sadness was filling up my body like a toxic fluid and it was only a matter of time before it came gushing out my eyes.  I felt a heaving in my chest and stomach, pain and anger in my heart.  Questions spun through my mind but I remained calm.  I didn't lecture, instead I leaned on him.  I wasn't sure if I felt pathetic or if I felt safe.  Strangely enough the next right thing was just to let him hold me.  Following that I didn't go to anger, I went to panic.  I started to feel like I was about to leave my body, I began tapping and quickly assessed how I would be able to remain present.  I considered listening to a song that helped comfort me during that week and figured it would either make me feel better or worse.  I heard the first couple notes and I felt better.  I took some deep breaths and continued making dinner.  But the second I started to see the chili come out of the can I felt like I was going to vomit.  He asked if I wanted him to finish making dinner.  I said yes.  I started crying. I walked over to the chair in front of my computer and firmly said, “You're an idiot”.  

“I know”, he said.  

“I’m so mad at you” I said to him.

  He started warming up the chili.   I started dancing in my living room.  I swayed just letting my emotions wash over me.  There was no other way to survive this.  I couldn't pull it together an pretend I was alright.  The only way I knew how to deal was to move my body and let my sadness dance me.  For a moment I became a little self conscious.  In an instant I remembered what had happened in the parking lot of the grocery store earlier that day.  Just be myself, I thought.  And with a giant exhale and a collapse in surrender, I let go.  I let it all go.  I lost sight of all expectations.  I swung my arms and leaned forward, I twisted my spine, my head tilted and lead the way.  I let all of my pain writhe up and rise up the back of my neck.  My face relaxed and I listened to the beauty of the notes.  Over and over and over, I found relief in the lyrics.  This song was proof that at one time someone had been as confused and in as much pain as I was and had turned it into beautiful music.  I acknowledged the collapse of my plan and understood my powerlessness.  I know nothing.  I am real, I am human.  I let go of the idea that he would think I was weird, I let go of the idea that he would think I was unique.  I relinquished my sadness and just moved to the rhythm of defeat.  I opened my mind to the possibility that I could keep waiting, after all I couldn’t imagine my life without him.  Which is not the same as I’d die without him,  I just feel that I would always choose to keep him around.   I smashed myself deeper into the carpet and curled into a ball on the floor  This is what it feels like to lose.  The melody filled me with wonderment and the true unpredictability of life, the fragility of reality.   I was reminded how everything can shift and change in an instant.  It makes me grateful for this moment right now.  I noticed he was watching me dance, as I exhaled all of  my fear, pain and control.  I just let it be.  The next time I looked up, he was sitting on my bed with his face in his hands.  I walked over to him and put my hands on his shoulders.  He looked up at me, tears forming.  I thought, then hesitated, then pushed on through.  I whispered in his ear “move with me”.  I took his hands and helped him stand up.  I had no fear.  I began to dance with someone I was mad at.  It’s a release like no other.   I gave more of my weight than I normally would just to make him catch me.  I lifted him over my back and took more risks, we threw each other.  He was present and I think we conversed more with ourselves than we did with each other.  Eventually our movements shifted and became fun and playful like two little puppies.  We both felt better.  We started talking.  We talked a lot.  We are learning to use our mouths as peacemakers.  As instruments of change and exchange.  Together we walked the line.  I amaze myself at what I am sharing and he amazes me too.  I felt our intimacy begin to wrap around each other, bulking and sticking like cotton candy.  He was able to tell me his feelings with much less hesitation this time.  I wanted to kiss him so bad.  His sticky sweet intimacy was tugging at my heart,  the hurt sunk into my back.  I told him what my mouth wanted to do, kiss him deeply.   He said that he really wanted to try and make it right with her.  I understood.  I wasn’t telling him so that he would kiss me.  I was saying it out loud because I was thinking it.   

He decided to spend the night.  I got into bed and rolled away from him.  I knew he was wanting things to be right and I wasn’t going to override his boundaries.  I rolled back over to him and said, “I’m hurting”, then rolled back toward the wall.  He gave me his hand.  I fell asleep.

He must have started kissing me while I was sleeping, because I woke up to his lips on mine.  He was driven, his energy was heightened, he was drinking me like a big glass of water, following a deep thirst for days.  I wanted him too.  As soon as I realized what was going on I opened the door and let him in.  Our bodies began, pulling, smacking, pushing, skin tugging, hair falling, I became absorbed by his momentum.  Green light.  I moved toward his drawstring.  I paused, met his eyes and asked if he wanted me to stop, he pushed my head into him, I took him in.  He is so safe for me, I loved it.  I was in a pretty deep sleep when I woke up to him so the whole thing kind of feels like a dream,  he pushed me from underneath.  

Her competition and my stone face, he wants everyone to be happy, but when feelings like this are involved, how? Our arms and legs moved in support,  gliding over each others surfaces.  We tumbled, rolling over each other.  We exchanged looks, a look of scarcity,  a look of seriousness.  How can the dimension of strong emotions be subsided when no one is denying how they feel?  He resisted kissing me earlier in the night because he thought it was right, but his instincts told him to keep taking me, over and over again.  He was positioning me with his emotion, his breath, and with his lust.  It was lust, pure lust. He and I came and went in waves.  I walked out of the bed.  I needed some air.  I grabbed some music and ate some chocolate on the front porch, the street lights were shining, the air was cold, it was quiet.  Still out of breath, my bricks were stacked atop one another, but I left before the motor was spread between them.  I was on my way to inner peace.  I felt my insides settle.  It was intense.  

I came back inside, I avoided eye contact with him, I wasn’t mad, I was emotionally shaken.  I had fallen asleep with a deep sadness and pain because I had to keep my lips away from his, and was awakened by a collision of desire, it was confusing.  I pulled out some paper, charcoal and pastels.  I drew bold shapes, silhouettes and drew them by candle light, my facing away from him.  When the feelings had subsided, I turned around.  He was on the edge of the bed facing me asleep.  I had the feeling he might have been watching me for a while.  I wanted to bring the candle over to the night table and just stare at his beautiful face, but I didn’t, I watched from a distance.  I was still hiding a little.  I got a little closer.  Eventually I kissed him, he opened his eyes, looking scared.  I smiled at him and his face relaxed and matched mine.  I think he thought I was mad at him.  It was a crescendo of strong emotions.  I came back to bed and we held each other close all night.  I just kept breathing.  

I am not afraid of melancholy.  I don’t fear my intensity anymore.  I am the kind of person, who stays up all night because the ideas just won’t stop.  I am the person who shuts down and opens back up in a matter of 5 minutes.  I am the woman who used to get drunk on a daily basis and smoke cigarettes until my fingernails were yellow just so I could carry on a conversation.  I have been apologizing for my melancholy my whole life.  I am deep, passionate, I want what I want and I want to create.  I want to be heard, I want to be seen, and I can love because I am raw, exposed, and things that stand in my way, get moved.  I am the type who gives second chances.  I am easily influenced by people who inspire me.  I like to talk things around in circles until the make sense.  I am a writer, not a wronger.

I feel better,  better than I ever have.  There is a completeness that resides in me.  He feels like family.  I am vacillating between pure peace and ease and anger.  I am angry because I don’t want to look like a fool.  I don’t want anyone to pity me.  I feel that when I am vulnerable inevitably I am pitied.  I so badly wish that being open was a trait that our culture revered,  but instead it is equated to weakness.  I will no longer look at kindness and patience as a liability.  I will embrace my sensitive nature and love myself for it.  I don’t need to feel shame for liking him so much.  He even said so himself, he said I don’t need to feel bad about anything.  My mind is a powerful place, if I let go more, is it possible that I could also enjoy my vulnerability more? Since I wont be so worried about what people think of me and allow myself to just be?  I am aware of my breathing.  I    imagine myself holding a bucket full of warm soapy water, the pane of glass in front of me is so dirty it is casting a shadow,  light can barely shine through.  The shadow, wants to keep me dark hidden away from love and hidden from people.  I l%^e him. I *#e him, I #@ve his eyes, I lo*^ his body and I lo^# his heart.  I can’t quite use that word yet because it doesn’t fit any other description of love that I have known before meeting him.  I want to know more. I want to know all about him.  I want to be free.  I want to be free to do whatever feels right.  I have spent so long holding back.  My whole life could be defined by things I didn’t do.  I do believe that life is precious and not to be wasted.  I must be patient, I must be kind and everything I do can be a conscious endeavor. 

romance can be dangerous.

I received an e-mail in my okcupid mailbox the other day that left me speechless.  Although I have been remaining open hearted and following the path of date#16 like a lovesick puppy dog, I have reservations concerning his emotional availability.  Not to mention his evil cell phone service.  I even started wondering the other day if I could just put him on my cell phone plan for an extra $10 a month, and then I remembered that the only reparative action I am allowed to act on when it comes to him, is giving him a haircut.  If it does not fall in the category of hair maintenance than any attempts to change him are off limits.  This email I received was a beautifully written, he described some of his core beliefs and the way he lives his life.  He mentioned acting into the way he wanted to be, acknowledging that there are no unneeded parts of a flower or a tree.  “I've realized being whole is not about shifting our burdens, but letting them go.”  I will refer to him as date#18.   At first I was blown away.  His writing style was amazing and the content sounded like it came straight out of my head on one of my most spiritual days, except better.  I sat there staring at my screen slightly in shock.  I haven't really been putting a lot of effort into going out on dates with new from okcupid since meeting date#16, mostly because I already have a surplus of material.  With the exception of  going to play tennis with an anarchist Buddhist guy last week.  I guess writing about that excursion just kinda fell to the wayside.  I wasn’t sure what to make of  the email.  I mean I couldn’t help but notice that a man who could write such an opener, had to be pretty conscious, which is one of my most valued attributes.  So my response was short but sweet.  

Me: wow that was quite impressive. I’m almost speechless. hmmm. 555-1212. call me sometime.

I called Lylah and read her the email.  She was pretty impressed too.  He hadn’t called yet, but we both decided that he was worth looking into.  

Date#18 and I talked on the phone while Lucy and I were cleaning her room.  Ok, I was cleaning her room.  I didn’t hide the fact that she was yelling mommy intermittently.  I also didn’t hide my writing project.  He asked me if I had met anyone I was attracted to since starting 52weeks52dates.  I said yes, two.  One I was currently seeing.  But I explained that we were not committed or exclusively dating.  He asked if we were to meet if he would be included in the writing?  I laughed and said I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn't be.  Anyone I go out with this year would be subject to scrutiny.  Then he asked if I would like to meet, to see if there was any attraction there.  I said that was a possibility, then corrected myself and said it was more than a possibility, it was a yes.  He was going out of town the following day, so if we were going to meet before he left it would have to be in the morning.  I asked him if he’d be willing to meet me in Scotts Valley at Starbucks before I started work.  He said yes.  Then I realized, I would be meeting up with date#16 later that night too.  Two encounters in one day?  “That would be intense”, I said out loud, while laughing.  My brain started to blur and began to feel like I was in over my head.  I didn’t hide my combination of excitement and awe at how it felt things were unfolding.  I was beginning to feel like the story was writing me.   I started laughing nervously, as I do when I am overwhelmed by the seemingly calculated moments that reveal themselves to me almost as a bit of fore shadowing.  He asked me more about what I was experiencing.  I told him that I was experiencing the sensations I have felt momentous events  occur in my life in the past.  Like when I got married in Vegas, when I stopped drinking and when I met Lucy’s dad.  I told him all of this.  I also told him that he seemed pretty emotionally available.  I asked him to correct me if I was wrong.  He said, that he didn’t have any dramatic relationships in his life.  Had he found my writing?  I laughed and said that was the main issue with the guy I was seeing, that he had lots of dramatic relationships, I did not, and it was kind of a problem.  I didn’t even have a dramatic relationship with date#16.  I admitted that meeting him and then seeing date#16 in one day was going to make it impossible for me to be in denial about some of the glaring issues with date#16 that I have been trying not to focus on because I have been learning other things.  Date#18, knew what I meant and he was impressed that I could see and admit it.  My head was spinning just a little.  I just had this feeling that some kind of shift or something different was about to happen.  I had no idea what but I could tell the universe was guiding me on this one.  When we said goodbye,  I was sitting on Lucy’s bed feeling as if my words were not quite making sense anymore and felt a little funny, like the excited funny.  

I immediately called Lylah and told her what happened.  

She said “wow.”  

I said “yeah”, 

she said “yeah”, 

I said,” yeah”, 

she said “yeah”.  

Date#18 and I were both in the unknown, and we knew it.  Lylah told me to give her an update right after I met him.  I said ok.  

I began to mentally masturbate on what was going on.  I was starting to get nervous, my instincts were telling me not look too good for my coffee date with date#18.  I didn’t want him to be attracted to me.  Actually I was scared that I would like and be attracted to him.  I realize date#16 has some obvious differences from me that raise concerns, but I still really like him.  But considering my history I have to wonder if it isn’t just the fact that he is unavailable that makes him so very irresistible to me.  I also wondered if I was afraid of choosing to invest time in date#18 simply because he looked better on paper.  I really like date#16 a lot and I don’t have a desire to cut it off with him.  I had to live within the mystery of meeting someone new and predicting what would happen with date#18 was fruitless.  I know I don’t have to give up date#16 if I don’t want to, although I am terrified that he is going to tell me he is back together with his ex tonight.  It’s been a week since we have seen each other and I’m sure they have been spending a lot of time together.  He’s going to bring over the painting we started on our first date and we are going to finish it.  I cant’t help but see the symbolism there if that is indeed the news he is breaking tonight.  

The morning of my date with date#18  was placing my emotions in the unknown and it was beginning to feel good.  I was wading through the spot of mystery and knew I would find out where things were meant to go with him soon enough.  I felt a shift.  I became excited about not knowing how this was all going to unfold, but it was most certainly unfolding as it should.  

I walked into Starbucks got a cup of coffee and took a seat, a few minutes later he walked in.  Nothing,  I felt nothing.  I waved at him and he came over and he gave me a hug, one of those hugs where his back was arched and he kinda put his shoulder into it.  When we let go it almost felt like repelling magnets.  He got inline to go get coffee.  I took out my cell, and texted Lylah, I told her he was here but didn’t get a good of at look at him, and now he was in line and I didn’t have my glasses on.  She texted me back “put your glasses on”.  

      When he came back, I noticed he was wearing those water type shoes, that have the toes all separated.  That could have been enough right there to know that he was not gonna do it for me.  But I needed a few more minutes to gauge what was going on.  His disposition was weird.  I had assumed that since his email was so kind that he would exude that quality, but I didn't feel that coming through.  What I felt was him trying to size me up.  We talked about my writing.  He told me about growing up in Hawaii and frequenting a certain beach path on Maui.  All the tourist girls would hang out there and he and his friends would go try to pick up on them.  He said that the great thing about that experience was that it got him used to rejection.  Then he moved on to something else.  I said wait you never finished that thought, what was so great about getting used to rejection?  He said, “Out of the 20 times I asked I at least got one yes.......for that night”,  I laughed.  “For that night” , Those three little words changed the meaning of that sentence entirely.  I started talking about how tenses and vocabulary can change the meaning of what is being said, and he looked at me lost and averted his eyes. 

“Isn’t that so incredible” I said with enthusiasm.  

He didn’t get it.  I knew date#16 would have.  

He said, if he could offer one piece of advice it was to not hold back the things that bothered me when in relationship. I agreed.  I don’t mean to say that I should be trying to change and dictate anyones paths or behavior, but when something hurts my feelings I need to be able to communicate it.  At this point I think it is important to communicate most everything as long as I am coming from a place of loving kindness, which means I am not being manipulative or just shifting my burden from myself to anyone else.  He said he knew he had to walk away from his last three girlfriends because he knew they just weren't his future.  He said he knew that there were certain things about their personalities that just weren't him.    As I heard him describe what he meant, I started checking in with how I felt about date#16 and our compatibility.  I think thats what date #18 was talking about compatibility.  I was feeling it in my guts, I knew from the bottom of my heart that date#16 is me, we get each other and we make sense. 

That night date#16 came over and he pointed out he was one minute early.  I was prepared for him to be at least a half hour late, I gave him a big hug and a short kiss.   We talked about his work and eventually I made dinner, a salad with strawberries and balsamic.  We watched copious amounts of surf videos, and then eventually we kissed.  The passion was ignited.  We kissed and I felt drawn to be close to him, it filled my whole body, my back softens and I energetically nuzzle him, pressing my face close into his. But we had stuff to do.  We needed to paint.  I eventually pulled away and started setting up the paining supplies.   And eventually She entered the conversation.  We talked for a half hour at least about what was happening for him in relation to his relationship to Her.  At first it was difficult for him to talk about his feelings.  He told me that he was hoping that she wouldn’t come up.  To be honest I wasn't sure if I really wanted to talk about her either but, I realized that I wasn't fooling myself into thinking I was going to get what I wanted, or get my needs met by involving myself in a half truth relationship with him.  So I settled deeply into my care for him and his essence and prepared myself for the truth.  I set my selfish motives on the shelf and picked up my paintbrush.  He hesitated, he paused,  I kept my mouth shut.  I asked him what was really going on for him.  I dropped down into my heart and I really wanted to know.  I softened my gaze and I really listened.  I didn’t interrupt, I didn’t judge and I didn’t take the bait when he tried to turn the focus onto what I felt.  I told him to keep talking.  I was listening.  I could tell he wasn’t used to speaking his mind when it came to his less than comfortable emotions.  I was up for the challenge too.  I was ready to take what he said and really hear him.  In the end it boiled down to the fact that he had to try to make it work with her, other wise he wouldn’t be being true to himself and he needed to be sure.  I understood.  I also knew that if I really wanted a real relationship with him, he would have to settle this conflict himself.  Eventually he said, “I know I just need to make a decision”.  I told him I didn’t think that was the case.  I felt that everything would just work itself  out and eventually it would get really obvious what felt right for him.  I admitted I didn’t see it working out with her and that I was willing to stay to see what would happen if I just remained open and available.   I avoided using the word wait because I felt that waiting conotated putting other things on hold.  That is not the case.   I will still be living my life business as usual and dating others if I feel like it.  But my relationship with him won’t change anything about how I would normally be living.  I was sitting on his lap by this point in the conversation and we both decided that it was a freebie night since boundaries were not clear yet as to where he actually was with his ex.  Apparently she had decided that they would not be having sex unless they got married and he was allowed to sleep with anyone he wanted.  Once again I furrowed.  What the fuck? What the hell does that even mean?  I wasn't sure I was on board with that arrangement as it seemed a little ridiculous.  So I just noticed that was where she was coming from and  I felt it spoke to her level of maturity.  The closeness we felt as a result of that conversation overflowed into a physical manifestation.  It was light, fun and loosely organized.  

I swear I keep getting wafts of his scent even though I took as shower.  This morning was pure heaven.  Lucy came in to my room, came up to his side of the bed and smiled at him.  I told her to come up and lay next to me.  She snuggled me, I snuggled him, three human spoons cozied beneath my white cotton down comforter and grey fleece blanket.  She was stroking my back and I had my nose pressed into his shoulder.  I have never experienced that before.  It’s interesting how the dynamic of the bed changes when she is in it.  It feels strong.  It felt like I was finally able to give her what she needed.  Which turned out was also exactly what I needed.   It was a feeling of wholeness and gratitude.  It’s one of those moments where I realized in hindsight, having a supportive and healthy relationship is not a myth.  Then I realized the implications of our conversation from the night before.  I was laying next to the man who held my world and I had agreed to him trying to make it work with someone else, even saying was a good idea.  What the fuck was I thinking?  I don’t think I had even had coffee yet, I had to day something.  “

“Are you awake enough for me to talk?” I asked

“Yes” he replied

“I’m starting to feel a little nervous about what is going to happen after you leave here”,

“How can I help you with that?” he said.

“I don’t know”, and I didn’t

“What if we make plans to hang out before I leave?” he said

“And I won’t worry between now and then, okay thats a good idea, that will help” I felt relieved.

He initiated making plans for Tuesday.

Our culture has perverted relationships to a point where nothing good can be seen.  It reminds me a lot of what our culture has done to food.  Genetically modified it, covered it in pesticides, added artificial ingredients and preservatives, and have stripped the natural and purity right out of it.  So much so that when we are presented with the real thing, it feels so amazing and good.   Yet culturally people don’t even recognize this pureness as something of value or necessary.

We have begun to treat relationships as a transaction, as the new commodity of capitalism.  Generally in this culture, the dating/mating game is more of a shopping trip, and with online dating,  okcupid has become the Amazon.com of relationships.  I hate to say this but it’s relationship refurbishing and resale.   We are out there online looking for the better, newer, a more improved version of the latest model, paying attention to facts and figures.  We look at the numbers and the stats of a human being.  We are not vulnerable in this process.  We are detached.  We are looking to acquire an item, and one that ships quickly satisfies every customer.  Standard shipping can be as little as couple of days, and poof there you are in another “relationship”.  Why don’t relationships last anymore, the way they did in the fifties?  It’s not because people were in better relationships back then, it’s because cultural norms disapproved of single women, single moms and the status quo was to have everything look good on the outside.  Our society was not any happier back then, as a whole.  That is not the reason that people stuck together.  Now the afore mentioned social norms have become more flexible and having children later in life is more acceptable, as is having children out of wedlock.  The dating process, has gone from courting and dating to the t.v shows like The Bachelorette.  We eat it up and in turn this television culture is poisoning our relationships.  What is being modeled on tv is the epitome of unhealthy relationships.  It takes time to get to know someone, it takes time to develop trust and it also takes time and guts, and personal accountability to be able to set boundaries, communicate feelings, needs and learn to understand each other.  Conflict is based in a lack of understanding.  Our culture believes in happily ever after, and to a certain existent I do too, but it would look totally different.  Mainstream happily ever after has no conflict, perfectionism in all aspects of the relationship including sex life, finances and how the children are raised.  So here is my proposal.  What if we looked at healthy relationships in terms of what was happening on the inside instead of what was happening on the outside?  Think about that for a second.  What if relationships were about relating and not about appearances?  What if relationships were not about houses, clean or dirty? Clean well dressed children or children going to the park in their pajamas? Dishes done, dishes not done? Employed husbands, unemployed husbands? Money in the bank, no money in the bank? Retirement funds, 401K’ or lack there of?  What if the desirability of a relationship was about the degree of communication and vulnerability when it comes to all of theses issues that effect every marriage/relationship in our culture.  What if our relationships had an open door policy and any topic could be discussed?  

Then there is the issue of divorce, these days divorce is just another break up.  There is often no titrating out of relationships.  I wonder if there is such a thing as exit counseling.  If it were up to me I would require evey person going through a divorce or breakup to participate in exit counseling.  Get acquainted with what your issues are.  If the compatibility isn't there then learn from it and move on.  But if it has a fighting chance at happiness then breaking up is not the answer.  I promise the next relationship will bear a striking resemblance.  I think the main issue is that we have no training in how to get involved with someone we are compatible with in the first place. As a result of the shopping list analogy, we are ill equipped to know exactly what we are looking for or what we really want.   Determining compatibility takes time and as mentioned earlier when acquisition is the goal, who has time for that?  

It’s morning.  I’ll see him date#16 again in two days.  Last night went to Lylah’s birthday party.  There were at least four couples there who were seemingly happily together.  I missed him.  I wished he could have been there.  There were tons of kids and Lylah’s friends were so cool.  I remembered her party last year.  It was the first time Lucy had ever played with other kids while I was at a party in community.  A few of the same people were at her party this year, and some new people as well.  It felt so good to know that we had made it through the year.  

She has a friend, Jane who is in the process of trying to adopt her 3 month old foster baby.  She got a call, saying that there was a baby for her and her husband, if they wanted him.  She went down to the hospital imediately.  He was born six weeks early and his addicted birth mother was high when she came into give birth.  The hospital staff could not allow his birth mother to take him home with her without seeing a social worker first.  She left and never came back.  Four days later Jane was standing there next to his bassinet in the NICU, knowing that he would be her baby.  When she picked him up, she knew.  She felt instant connection, he was hers.  The baby’s birth mother and family have four months to take action to get him back.  And there were already times were she had to physically hand him over to the his birth mother.  She said her jealousy and fear arose like she had never felt before.  Jane felt he was her baby regardless of where they were in the adoption process.  I was so moved by her story.  I mentioned how I understood how scary it can be to give your heart and love, when the stability and security aren’t there, not knowing what will happen. She is brave enough to love within the mystery.  She has to trust that the universe is not just tempting her with goodness.  I recently read something about finding it hard to believe that all of the good things on earth were simply placed in our path so that we could resist them.  I say viva la vulnerability and in giving myself completely to someone, I am giving my heart away.   I must let go of my heart and watch it float down the river, not knowing what will happen.  I used to be so scared, that I would get hurt.  I can’t even tell you how many times I have told my love stories and have been met with “I just don't want you to get hurt and be disappointed”.  I find it curious that against a background of death, this is what most people are so afraid of.  It might be true, that with the multiple rejections I have learned how to not to be afraid of it.  Yesterday at that party, I had no need to prove myself, I felt no shame or need for people to like me, I knew they either would or they wouldn’t.  

I spent some time talking to Lylah’s cousin, a local mural artist who is sweet as pie.  We talked about the alternatives to fake surface oriented relationships an how deeper intimacy can be achieved.  He lives downtown too, so I gave him a ride home.  Before he got out of the car he said that he really liked talking to me and said we should hang out more often and that he enjoyed playing with Lucy too.  This interaction was so different from the kind I was having not even two years ago, when I was told that no one wanted to hang out with me because of the position I had put myself in, choosing to be with my daughter’s dad and have a baby.  I had so much shame brought on by that interaction with that particular person who initiated telling me what my peers at that time thought of me.  And it wasn’t fucking true.  My loneliness was not because I was paying penance for my bad decision.  I had not yet learned how to let my vulnerability find my relationships for me.  I was hanging around people who mirrored my family of origin.  I was lonely and needed love desperately.  I was trying to get it from people who could not give, because I didn’t know, loving is always something that is given freely and not a transaction for good behavior.    

When I got home from Lylah’s party, I carried lucy, who was passed out up to her bed and began working on a painting I started a couple of nights ago when date#16 came over, since he didn’t bring over the painting we had started on our first date.  This paining sprouted from the depths of my unconscious.   A pear in the top left middle of the canvas.  Next, a hand holding it from below.  Most of what is seen is part of the shoulder and one quarter of the face.  Above that figure’s head is another floating figure in jumping jack position, much smaller in scale his hand is outstretched holding an apple.  In the lower left corner is a female figure hand outstretched holding nothing.  After painting it I realized that it was indeed a manifestation of me, date#16 and his ex-girlfriend.  

First of all let me just say that I am grimacing as I am writing this because to be honest 

I’d rather not.  I would rather write anything other that the fact that I met her today, with him.  Ugg This is fucking awful.  I don't know what is going to come of this, but I sure hope its something good cause I’m fucking feeling very small right now.  Once again, I’m not totally sure what happened. 

All I remember is saying is“It’s him”. 

 My friend Elijah saying “What?”

“It’s him” I said.  

I waved.  He waved back.  They came up and he introduced her to me.  I said hi, with my mouth half in the shape of a smile and half agape.  Then I just stood there and stared in silence.  looking at her, then looking at him.  I had my sunglasses on thank god.   In the past our meeting would have involved me being overly friendly and making unreasonably cheery small talk with someone I clearly had issues with.  But today when he walked up with her, I didn’t fake it.  I was was in shock.  We were standing outside of the video store and Lucy was inside trying to pick a video that we were not going to rent while the introductions were taking place. 

Lucy and I went into the ocean the other day, I was holding her and we stopped when the water got to be about about waist high.  The waves were small and we were jumping over them.  Then all of a sudden a big wave came and I realized the best thing for us to do was to dive underneath it.  Unfortunately I didn’t think about the fact that she hates going underwater or that diving under a big wave holding a four year old might not have the same outcome as diving under a wave by myself.  I told her “here we go”, and tried to jump under the wave, I got swept off my feet and got tossed underneath the water, and held on to her tight.  We both swirled aimlessly under the slurry of white water and sand.  Eventually I found the ground and I stood up.  I knew we were going to be fine but she didn’t, she was really scared.  I tried to reassure her by saying that we made it and sometimes that’s what you have to do in the ocean.  Dive in head first, get tossed around and just know that you will make it out alive.  Those moments underwater must have seemed like an eternity to her.  Just like those moments standing outside of the video store opposite date#16 and his ex-girlfriend/girlfriend? felt like they were going in slow motion and lasted an eternity to me.  I swear in hindsight I heard water gurgling using past my face as I stood out there on the sidewalk.   I think date#16 lead her into the video store.  I stood there paralyzed while Elijah coached me to get Lucy out of the store.  I went in and date#16 came over and  gave me a hug.  I looked down and noticed that Lucy was standing in a huge puddle of smoothie, the bottle and rest of it were no where to be found.  The guy working at the video store asked me if I had any paper towels and I ran out to the stroller to catch my breath, fully knowing that I didn't have any.  I could barely see straight, I was on the verge of tears.  I went back in and Lucy was setting off the security alarm, video in her hand trying to get back outside.  It was quite the speckle I’m sure.  The guy was wiping up the spill and as date#16 left, he said “See ya Tuesday”.  I was like yeah.   I’m also pretty sure they did not rent a movie either.  Hmmm.  Elijah says you can’t prepare for moments like that.  I agreed. 

I am terrified that I am wrong.  I am terrified that I am going to lose to him, lose him to her.  But if I really want to know, I must stay.  I just get to sit and see how it will unfold.  Am I that big of a person?  I don’t know.  I am praying.  Praying that he will want me too.  I don’t even want to keep my eyes open,  my heart is heavy.  I want him to be mine, all mine.  I just want to love him so bad it scares me.  I wanted a love that was real.  I wanted a love that was romantic, that was sent from the heavens, something scary.  Something that wasn’t so safe because I wanted to feel passion.  Any other kind of love isn’t worth the risk.  It’s not worth the commitment.  This entanglement might be scary but it makes me feel alive.  It hurts, I’m vulnerable but I know when I see his face it will all be worth it.  I feel sick, in my stomach, my head hurts I feel like I’m on the verge of tears.  I’m scared.  But then there is another part of me that is crazy fearless as well.   The irony being of course that my fearlessness scares me.  It 2:00 in the morning and I can’t sleep.  I  have  no idea what is going to happen on Tuesday.  I am trying to decipher his email and read into what is coming my way.  

When I got home I had an email from him stating that he guessed that our meeting was awkward and that he wanted to let me know that I didn’t need to stress about it.  What the hell does that mean?,  I thought.  Does that mean don’t worry, I’m his, or don’t worry about it, cause he wouldn't.  He did make reference to how perfect Lucy walking in her spilt juice was going to be for when they turn this story into a movie.  I wondered, since he thought it would be made into a movie, was he also suggesting there was a happy ending in the works?  Elijah and I went over the scene all the way down pacific.  He reassured me that date#16 was into me and that he seemed very disconnected from her.  He also pointed out that he touched me and not her.  This is exactly the kind of shit I don't want to be participating in but if I want to ride this out it looks like I’m going to have to.  The call to run is starting to whisper into my ear again.  

This is romance.  Romance is dangerous, it is messy and cannot be forced to fit and be kept in a perfect little, square box with a ribbon bow on top.  Romance and love are not the same.  I am talking about romance, a deep mystical intense form of emotion.  It makes me feel gooey and mushy.  Like cracking open an egg and not just any egg.  A very special egg laid by a very special chicken whom I have raised since she was a baby chick.  Everything is pure, everything is exciting and new.  A new life and a new sweetness.  The clear slippery substance makes me feel like a fool, but the yolk suspended and intact reminds me of the the alternate meaning of yoke, mystic union. Romance is the sweetness of spring, the smell of newly sprouted grass.  The dance of letting go on the inside.  I’m falling, succumbing to sweet, sensual passion and satiating desire.  I envision pastel colors like an instagram photo, that gives a feeling of nostalgia, the kind that happens between two adults that have known each other since they were babies.  There is a curiosity that blossoms into gentle love.  A love that is unconditional, innocent and enduring.  A kind fragile emotion that is soft and squishy.  I don't need that hard outer shell to keep me safe, I know he would never hurt me on purpose and that is why I can trust him.  I also want to protect him.  There is a loyalty there that I have not felt before.  

We are holding hands, walking side by side through a field of tall grass and yellow wild flowers.  The air is warm, a slight breeze is blowing our hair.  My skirt and his shirt ripple to one side and dance in the wind. This place is miles aways from anything, it is very hard to find.  We look up to the sky, it is powder blue with the faintest wisps of white, fluffy vapor clouds.  We are walking with purpose but I have no idea where we are going.  His masculine strength flows down through his legs into the earth with every footstep.  His feet walk in a rhythm.  He is connected to everything.  I can’t help but notice and feel his power, he smiles at me like he knows where we are going.  He is a beautiful man.  Sometimes he is shy and he wants me to take the lead, he hesitates, but underneath he embodies smoldering embers and the current of the ocean.  I see it even when he can’t.  We came here to honor life.  We wanted to become conscious of where we are and where we are going.  We keep walking, the grass is waving, tickling the backs of our arms, he stops.  We pause and look into each others eyes.  He takes notice of the way the colors are arranged in mine.  I just want to be sure.  I want to know.  He says when we get where we are going he’ll have the answer.  We keep walking.  He holds my hand as I jump over some rocks that have been laid down in a pile.  He gives me that look again.  We keep walking.  We don’t talk for a while.  We are completely in our bodies and it seems as though our elbows are having a conversation.  He doesn’t pull too far ahead of me and I don’t fall too far behind.  We are magnetic.  We love to be near each other.  I know we will walk until we get there, wherever there is.  We have been walking for hours.  We are beginning to get sleepy.  He finds a spot for us to lay down.  As long as I am with him I can sleep anywhere, I know he has my back.  We sleep for days.  Neither one of us wants to admit that we might not know where we are going.  The destination begins to drift, we have lost our way.  Neither one of us has a plan, but we realize we have each other.  We are on a journey, with no end.  We keep on walking and find that no matter where we go, there we are, together.  We climb mountains, cross rivers, swim in lakes, and follow streams back to the ocean.  We found it,  the ocean.  We are home.  

The ocean is what he knows, he is familiar with navigating the waves in the sea.  He thinks he falls short when it comes to decision making and he feels wishy washy because he doesn't always know what to do.  But when he is in the wide, open, Pacific Ocean he always knows.   He knows when there are waves, even from the trees, like a sixth sense.  Just knowing there are waves puts him in a good mood.  He knows how to find that sweet spot where the wave magically forms and gains momentum, as if it was created just for him.  Effortlessly he can be one with the ocean, they are not separate entities.   If no where else, he has grown up here in the deep blue.   He feels free in the water,  when the land is off in the distance.  He floats in the crisp, salty, water, beneath the shadows of the cliffs and he notices the land above him.   It holds everything static and rushed with an amazing amount of stability.  He talks to the earth as well.  He feels most at ease in the fluid, blue-green, and white water.  He appreciates the animals.  His eyes pray for schools of dolphins to swim past.  He loves watching them round half circles over and under the surface.  He has seen sprays from a whale as as the sun went down, and silence fell upon him and the crowd cleared as dusk approached.  

He is a simple kind of man.  He appreciates beauty, listens closely and he takes his time.  He lets his troubles come and knows they will pass.  “He doesn't lust for rich mans gold he knows everything he has is in his soul”.  He has passion.  If he is not meant to be near to me forever, then nothing is right in this world.  If I can’t see him for the rest of my life then this must all just be a dream.  If I could only be so lucky to have him feel the same way.  He is an acoustic guitar, a sweet melody, the roar of the ocean, the sound of a pencil solving a math problem.  He is one sentence that says it all.  He draws the love out of me.  He inspires me.  He makes me want to lay down, slow down, enjoy the present and be grateful for today.  Is he looking for me in her eyes?  Only time will tell.