I went back to my favorite restaurant in Brooklyn, the one with the cute Sicilian waiter, a week ago (or something). I don’t remember now exactly how it happened, but I ended up giving him my number and we were on a date a couple days later.
The texts leading up to the date were infrequent and flirtatious- we were meeting for a drink in Union Square and I told him that if he was sweet to me, I might consider going to the beach with him the following day.
He arrived really early for our drink, so when I arrived he was a few drinks in watching the World Cup at the bar. We decided to get a table and have dinner, first he had to smoke. He’s younger than I thought- and I don’t mean in his age per se, more in how he presents himself, dresses and acts. He is about 10-11 years my junior. I was not really feeling much, but I was not (yet) repulsed so I stuck with it.
Dinner was sweet and flirtatious- we sat on the same side of the table, physically at ease with each other. I mentioned early on that regardless of how sweet he was, we would not be going to the beach the next day due to the weather. All that beach stuff was a half joke to me, but I should be more careful with young foreign men. When I said something he found silly or sweet he would pull me close to him and kiss me on the neck or shoulder- I didn’t mind; a couple times our faces/mouths were very close and we nearly kissed but did not. He has a really interesting life story that I was curious to hear more about and it is very sexy to listen to someone look for the right words in Italian. Every now and then, he would teach me how to say things in Italian- which made us laugh, affection was easy with him. He often did this strange twisting thing with his tongue and ran the tip across his crooked teeth which was unsexy- it just confused me.
I was not particularly interested- I found him sort of macho, immature, and kind of sketchy. He also really likes to drink and talked about having a relationship with pot that was a turn-off for me, too. I mean- he is fine as he is, I don’t mean to sound judgey- it’s all good- I just was not feeling him. He was definitely sizing me up to determine what my values were regarding sleeping with his friends- and wanted me to know that they were off limits, which sounded like a bummer because he has a good sized group of young, Italian, soccer playing friends- which, in my imagination, could have entertained me for the whole summer. Alas.
I would have met him a second time- why not. I might have even taken him as a lover, why not. He was very doting and intense and that can be really fun in bed. Plus, not to stereotype but- hey, he is Sicilian! I had a Sicilian lover for many years and he lived up to every delicious stereotype regarding Sicilian men (sexually). I was hopeful. But things sort of took a nosedive when we were getting ready to leave the restaurant and I was preparing to go home. He wanted to take a walk in the park- I obliged. He wanted to sit and talk but the benches were wet so he wanted to go to a bar- I obliged. I sat and waited at a table while he went to the bar for drinks and in the time I was waiting, a man came up and offered to buy me a drink- probably out of good manners or something. My date caught a glimpse of this in the mirror behind the bar and was angry when he got to the table. He asked me what the man wanted and I told him he kindly offered to buy me a drink, no biggie- and my date turned around and yelled to the man ‘Oh? Would you like to come over here and offer to buy ME a drink?”
Ohhhhhhh Christ, here we go.
He turns back to me and asks if I am coming back to Brooklyn with him or are we going to my apartment uptown. I laugh and say that we are not having a sleepover tonight. He proceeds to sit up, stiffen, cross his arms while taking a sip of his (6th) drink. Gives me a dirty look. Starts looking around the bar at the other women there. I laugh again and ask him what’s wrong- he is dismissive, cold. We have some words and it essentially boils down to he felt misled because I am not going to go home with him- and even though I find this disgusting and manipulative, I did apologize if I said or did something to mislead him but that this behavior/exchange was definitely not changing my mind about it. Fucking childish. I tell him that it’s time for me to go home and I stand up to leave. He sucks down his drink and walks past me to the door, holding it wide and looking angrily into the distance as I pass through.
As we walk down the block he says some more bullshit about me going home with him “just to cuddle” and questioning my decision not to, after we seemed to have gotten along so well at dinner. This is all making me even more incredulous and angry, but I stayed pretty cool and just said “I am sorry that you are disappointed, [sexy Italian name here]. Maybe if you want to get together next week for a coffee or something, we can see what’s good then, Ok?”
And here, my friends, is the moment: he turns to me and says, “[my name here in a sexy Italian accent], either you come with me now, or I will just see you around” as he lights a cigarette and raises his arm to hail a cab. Gasp! I blinked hard, mouth agape, then shook my head, turned heel and crossed the avenue. He called out my name and I did not turn back. Go. Fuck. Yourself.
He catches up to me a block or two later, grabs my arm, I want to spit. Tries to spew all this pathetic dramatic bullshit about all the people who have let him down, how he does not meet women like me everyday and really wants to do whatever he has to do to make it up to me. My head is pulled back like a turtle and I am shaking it no, no, no. I said “I don’t want this [insert big arm gestures from him to me, circle around the air in between] in my life. This is crazy. So thank you for dinner, but, goodnight” and as he continues to try and explain, I hailed HIM a cab- gesture him in, he tries to kiss me and I turn my head, close the door on him, as he is calling out for me to text him when I get home.
Sure. No problem.
Needless to say, we are not going out again and I will have to connect to that crew of young Italian soccer players some other way 😉 I’m sure I will think of something…
I have started and erased a sentence 8 times because I want to start this story the right way. Been away from this, from you; and this story can get lost in the telling.
An old friend visited me last night.
We both have long been spiritual seekers- sometimes humans come out that way; I did. I was born during the Week of the Seeker. It wasn’t always clear in language that GOD is what I was seeking- sometimes it was connection, creativity, meaning, nature, sexuality- but it was always with me; and he (the friend who visited me last night) was the same from childhood too, though his seeking was always native and natural,Earthy, sexual. Like I was the little girl in the outfield with the balls just rolling past because I was picking flowers and singing to the clouds and he was the messy muddy boy of frogs and fires. We did not know each other as children, but grown, it is our wounded inner littles that often come out to play.
I remember vividly the first time I saw him- it was like that scene in the movie Requiem for a Dream (here) where they shoot up- prick, surge, dilate, swooosh and giggle- the pheromones detonating way before hello. I saw his response across the room. Within a week, I found him on Facebook; we exchanged veiled, charged messages (he had a girlfriend) and then I offered to lend him some gear for an upcoming solo camping trip he was taking. A headlamp, sleeping bag. The exchange that set it off was something like:
B(oy): So how will I get this gear from you?
G(irl): You can stop by my house to pick it up. [Address provided]
B: Sure. I will walk into the Lion’s Den.
G: Great, see you soon then.
When he came to pick up the gear, I served him tea and we played dress up. He stood me on a foot stool in my green lace tights and adorned me with belts and feathers; I made him a crown of hydrangeas and a sequined bandeau. It was late September, Indian Summer and we were very, very warm taking long, close breaths of each other- practically levitating from the energy building between us. Twenty something and he had the dimple/brown eyed/crooked teeth trifecta that I lose my mind(panties) for; I was taut and leggy like a deer, wide open eyes like the sea. That night we kissed and it broke the spell- I turned him out into the night with the headlamp and sleeping bag.
The next week is kind of blurry in my mind, but he reminded me of some of the details when I saw him last night. There was the drive out into the hills to stargaze in the grass when the forbidden hesitations drove us wild; the ungraceful break up; climbing up my fire escape and staying in my bed for 2 days with the phone off. Going back to his apartment to face what he had to face and then sitting on my stoop tying a bracelet he made around my wrist while he told me he was going to try and work things out at home. It wasn’t love between us but it was something and I was sad to see him go, but I understood on a soul-level the necessity of what he had to do. The mess that followed was not dignifying to anyone involved- violent threats and psychotic jealous all night phone calls, police reports, carrying mace. More drama than I had seen in some time and I was glad, so glad, when it stopped. We stayed away from each other for a long time- at first, deliberately and later just by virtue of leading different lives. At some point we made a peace- I was seriously involved and living with someone else and we had both grown enough to prioritize forgiveness and love above all. I think, too, that we had recognized the divinity in each other from the start but were using a very primitive language to express it.
To be honest, over the years I did not think much of him and was sort of forbidden to be even a casual acquaintance to him by my boyfriend at the time. Funny the things that happen. I guess I noticed who he was dating and sometimes heard of some of the more dramatic spectacles- I was probably judgy and cunty about all of it. We had many mutual friends and a sort of peaceful ambivalence that worked.
A couple years later, he bubbled up in my consciousness because I was about 6 months out of the serious relationship and was looking to forget myself in someone else’s charm for a while. In hindsight, the whole thing was pretty shitty- I manipulated and seduced him because I was hurting badly. My hurts appealed to his instincts to heal and provide for someone, and he was trying to have a real relationship with me. It was about two weeks and it hurt both of us but we managed to cut it off, give it space to breathe and be friends. There was a little sputter one night and I went to his house, got mine and left- which was a cold cruel thing to do.
Hurt people hurt people, is what he told me.
So again we just became like a piece of art on the wall of each other’s imaginations- he was there/not there, it was peaceful, dormant, a non issue. It was more than an old hook up but way less than a broken relationship, and it was fine. I admired him in many ways for his creativity, playfulness, and spirituality. He dated a very close friend of mine and while at first I was hopeful for them because I cared for them both and thought they might just be perfect for each other, in the end when that didn’t flourish, I sided with her and disposed of him energetically.
Fast forward to yesterday, 2 lightyears later: through a series of “coincidences” I was struck by some nostalgia for him, and decided to just reach out and invite him to coffee because I knew he was nearby and that he was moving very far away, very soon. I wanted to make amends and be enchanted by his stories and his light. I felt nothing but warmth and goodness, even if it was impulsive and wildly unpredictable for me to contact him. And as our connection has always been a little reckless and hard to follow- it would make sense that hours later he is in my yoga class and we are like old friends. I think the old friend feeling came both from that spiritual connection and that this story took place over the course of 6-7 years. That and a lot of my affection for him is derived vicariously through the relationships he has with our mutual friends.
It was a beautiful night and I think that came from both of us being open to whatever evolved and that we were coming together as whole adult people. I was able to apologize for the things I had done to harm him, he gave me the gift of forgiveness. We were able to talk about our lives without reservation, and acknowledge the chemistry that remains between us. We were discussing other relationships and he said something about mistaking chemistry for real connection that really struck me- we had both done that very same a dozen times. We’ve grown into people who want to be able to express ourselves fully- including sexually- and we were comfortable relating to each other in what was a familiar but also totally new way. And then something happened that rocked me, unexpectedly- like only intimacy with someone who truly knows you and cares for you can do. In a half embrace we were nuzzling as he was touching me, and just as the sensation began to climax, he pulled my body close to him and held me tight in a full embrace, saying “I’ve got you, baby, it’s ok, I’ve got you” and my tears gasped out from a hidden place; buried in his neck, crying into our hair, he did not ease up and did not let go- he made space for whatever was releasing in me. I guess in a way, for some time I had been experiencing orgasms in isolation- even in the company of lovers- like I sought the oblivion of them, “riding the outer ring of my own private Saturn” (the great poet Sean Daley, here:
It had been too long since I had been with someone who wanted me to connect to them in that moment, for me to feel safe enough to actually feel what was happening and to stay with me, or with them, there. It was very humane and beautiful; and as friends we were able to move from that sacred moment into others sweet and silly and soon, sleepy.
This is exactly what I would seek to create in my own Utopia of what polyamory and “friends with benefits” would be. Because look, he is great but I don’t have any longing to be anything different or more than the moments we share when we share them. Most likely, I will not see him again for some time and I feel so peaceful about that- just blessing him on to the next thing knowing that he is doing the same for me. What we shared last night- all of it- was previously unavailable to us. It’s like one of the secret levels in a video game- we, or I, did not have the code, but do now.
It’s late and I’m tired so I’m getting a little rambly but I’m pretty sure there is a synthesis here, a complete loop, another dimension… inwardly reorganized. Makes me think of that spiritual tradition where people believe that we are born perfect and complete and that the whole life process is just about remembering all these things we are born knowing, our souls code. I just remembered something; tho I can’t articulate it exactly, the visceral sensation is one of remembering and wholeness, I feel complete and recognizable to myself.
The other night I went to see a show with one of our mutual friends, and the nostalgia for this friend was ignited because our mutual friend had just gone to a show with him a few days before. In the second encore, the musicians covered Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, the poetry of which has always been striking to me.
Time After Time
Cyndi Lauper
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles confusion –
Is nothing new
Flashback – warm nights –
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after –
Sometimes you picture me –
I’m walking too far ahead
You’re calling to me, I can’t hear
What you’ve said –
Then you say – go slow –
I fall behind –
The second hand unwinds
If you’re lost you can look – and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you – I’ll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows – you’re wondering
If I’m OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time—
I may have mentioned somewhere along the way that during the 100/100 project, I met a woman that I would like to date. I tend to be pretty hetero in my relationship conquests- when I was younger and drinking heavily I slept with a bunch of women, but have not really dated any. I find some women incredibly sexy and when I watch porn it is most often girl-on-girl or threesomes; this is pretty vanilla, I’m sure it somehow relates to internalized sexism and objectification but I don’t want to talk about that today. THE POINT IS that it is unusual for me to want to date a woman- you know, charm her, care for her, want to learn everything about her, explore and relate to her complex inner workings PLUS have a lot of sex with her- like an actual relationship.
So this woman is obviously exceptional.
Turns out, as it would, that she has been pretty active in the polyamorist/swingers community- not that I should be surprised by this AT ALL given who and what I seem to attract. And some nudist group… but all this in addition to being brilliant, successful, generous, loving, so fun to be around and blindingly beautiful, inside and out. Talking with her about my experience with my lover was really insightful… a little tough to swallow, but insightful- because to me it was, like, unfathomable, that someone could not connect emotionally and spiritually to a lover, ESPECIALLY to ME, but she set me straight with that nonsense. Maybe I can’t do it. But other people- for myriad reasons that extend from trauma to drugs to conscious emotional shut downs, do it all the time. Even with compelling little me 😉 She advises that I stop seeing the lover individually but stay friends with him- go to a party, invite him as a third where applicable. I don’t necessarily agree with her, I would still like to see him. She and I are going to attend some parties together this summer- so, however I get entree into this world, all signs continue to point me there.
We have a date tonight- er, I don’t know if we call them dates yet- we see each other regularly and have a lot of shared interests so we have a lot of tentative plans. Semantics, not the point. We are going to a class on orgasmic meditation (OM)– not where we practice the technique on each other (more on THAT another time) but we prepare ourselves in other ways through breathing and meditation to have more spiritually expansive orgasms. Or something like that. Make sure to click around on that link up there- this is some information you do not want to miss if you are a woman, or a man who is interested in women having orgasms.
In other news…
Have you ever heard the expression “The best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody else”??
Cute expression, right?! 😉 It’s not really been my style in the past… I tried it, once. It was not good for me or him- I felt like I was on fire with anger and he caught feelings and got hurt because I was using him. That felt super shitty and was a mess to clean up. I don’t think it has to be that way at all- that was just my first try at it.
If you read my last post, then you know I was having some feelings regarding really wanting someone that I cannot have. Yesterday afternoon as I was listening to more Sharon Van Etten and repotting some plants in the beautiful Brooklyn sunshine, it struck me that a good way to get this out of my system would be a nice little toss with someone hot & new. You know, a one night stand. Honestly, I haven’t had one of those since maybe 2004 but I considered it a good idea. I just don’t want to think about it anymore- I want it back on a shelf and out of my veins, right now. I meant what I wrote about circling the wagons, too- I am so not interested in “finding” anyone right now- but if someone turns up, well- maybe. Maybe.
I did, however, get this little idea in my head and I started to think specifically about a man who works at my favorite restaurant, which I had plans to go to last night. He is tall and foreign (Italian :)) and super charming, maybe a little young, definitely someone who I once considered out of my league. I don’t think that way anymore, as you know. I put that specific idea aside and simply put it out there for the Universe that if She sees fit, to please put someone sweet in my path tonight for a little rendezvous. A night cap in the garden. Heh heh.
Not only did that Italian (Sicilian) man turn out to be one of our servers, but he is also a friend of the woman I was having dinner with so we were introduced. Kiss kiss like the Europeans do. Apparently, when I left the table to wash up, he came over to talk with my friend and said to her ‘your friend is very beautiful’ which was very sweet. Then when she left the table he came over to talk to me and we had one of those ridiculous/nervous/cute conversations, like we had no game. It was on, I could feel it- I just felt a little shy about making a move once my friend came back. As we were getting ready to leave, he came over and took our picture, then asked for a picture with each of us individually… then let us know that he was heading out for a night cap and asked us what we were drinking. It was a clear opening, and I didn’t take it. I balked, out of some respect or other feeling regarding our mutual friend. When he hugged me goodbye, he kissed me on the cheek and stood back, continuing to hold my hand- he confirmed that he had my name right, and told me to please come back and see him soon. I thanked him and told him I would, then wiggled out of there in my little mini dress, smiling.
Don’t you think I didn’t regret it, like I didn’t want to turn back and be there waiting for him when he walked out the door. Meeeoooww. Nice that the Universe agrees I need to keep on, and quick- whether that is the old over/under or an OM class with my sweetie while I maintain this other more inward focus,entirely.
This has been the week of a hundred thousand thoughts but not a single tail or loose thread to pull so I could unravel it all and show you what has been happening up in there. I’m exhausted and I had an evening coffee so here it is 2am and I’m awake, awake. Lucky you.
I began reading ‘The Gifts of Imperfection’ by Brené Brown this week after a mini-bender on Amazon (holla Prime!). You may remember her very famous Ted Talk on The Power of Vulnerability (<—- click that if you do not)(I just learned how to code links so no more copy/paste web addresses!!). Maybe you want to have a first or second look- it may be insightful. I wouldn’t gush that I loooove her or the book but I appreciate the discussion and some of the practical action/suggestions she makes. There are a few things going on in my life, personally and professionally, that Dr Brown’s work sheds light on, in a rip-open-the-drapes-to-the-midday-sun kind of way. The book specifically focuses on Brené’s research on shame. Becomes clearer all the time how influential shame is in my life… Synchronicity is a funny thing when you’re a meaning-seeking little story teller with a spiritual bent, like me.
Gosh, life can be so very tricky sometimes. Grateful for that which helps us grow and shine right through it.
Speaking of resources, a friend sent me a Tracy McMillan article from the Huffington Post that got my haunches up a bit. It was titled “Why You’re Not Married (<–)” ; then I went on to read another article from her written in the same voice about being a female Peter Pan(<–). It wasn’t until I watched the video at the bottom of the first article that it dawned on me I had read one of her books last year- and I remember feeling mostly meh– about it. The articles are a little touchy, she is brave to write the things that she does, but brave does not equal correct- these really are inflammatory statement pieces. She does comment that she is delivering these “truths” in the spirit of generosity and wanting to help people, but, where I come from? Truth without love is cruel. It might make it more sophisticated and articulate to criticize… eh. Who cares. You read it, lemme know what you think.
It’s good timing for this all to be swimming around in my head because I have decided, after some setbacks, fresh starts & tipping points, that I am circling the wagons and getting some shit together.
Deep Sleep by Logan Hicks
I can barely stand myself anymore in a couple of key areas- the subject of this dumb blog being one of the top 2- so this may turn into one of those detox rants for a few weeks or so, like Leonard Cohen’s Book of Longing… ha, if only I could write something to compare to that masterpiece of what it is like to desire/resist/succumb over and over and over only to understand the truth about that suffering is really about God… oh Leonard, how I need you now. I… oh God, where do I even start? All I will say is that I have had the devastating gift of having a love with the force of all the Earth’s oceans wash over me in the past couple weeks and… well, I can’t have him. He is living a version of the dream, with a woman- and their child. Don’t get freaked out and judgey, not a single shady thing happened between us at all and he is admirable and respectful in every way- and I am too. Love is like that.
I am left with this surge of anger and demand, however, shaking my fist at the sky and being like whaaaat the fuck—… No really. What the fuck. Between the one I love & can’t have, and my swinger/lover (who is also in many ways a platonic ideal, but doesn’t want a girlfriend so that ‘goes nowhere’), I am feeling pret-ty sorry for myself and like I have been dicked out of something that is most valuable to me. It occurred to me briefly this evening, after walking back from a stolen moment, that perhaps there is a larger message in this: because that’s what I do to make sense of the difficult things of my life, I seek to learn and grow from them… OR THERE IS NOT A STUPID LARGER MESSAGE AT ALL AND THIS IS JUST SOME STRAIGHT UP LIFE SHIT THAT IS UNFAIR. Fuck you rainbows. Fuck you karma.
Even if a part of me is angry and sad, I remain mostly deeply grateful. Grateful to be awake and to love like this.
So I am dropping this old shell and swimming my naked lobster ass out to sea to grow a newer, bigger one to accommodate all this growth, and/or the changes that are happening, now. Older lobsters must be the humungous mutant ones. Good timing for this sort of introspection, given Mercury retrograde beginning in 4 hours(<–).
And just in time, today- I discover Sharon Van Etten. Rocked me. Every song an anthem. Like this one:
I’m a little shy of 100 days and heaven knows my counting was corrupted a long time ago, but I am going to officially move on from the original concept of the 100 invitations over 100 days. I will continue to write and I invite you to continue reading.
Here are some points of reflection and conclusion:
1. I was/am bored. I need to be doing something creative at all times. It’s like a puppy that needs to be taken for a run daily, the energy gets all bottled up otherwise. I knew that, actually- I guess I just got caught up doing whatever whatever over the past year and I have barely been creating anything. Asking people out (almost) everyday brought a lot of fun and insight, but writing about it was the thing I enjoyed the most. I believe that the creative, sexual, and spiritual energies derive from the same root source and when one is imbalanced the others suffer- but also that when one is booming, the others can expand dreamily. I think too that sometimes it is easier to look outside of myself to fill the deficit. Yes, sometimes when I am bored or dissatisfied or disconnected, I can quickly blame feeling that way on not having a partner or lover… when I think I just re-discovered that the actual need is to spend some time with my hands in the clay, pushing the fabric through the machine, or spray-painting some stickies or stencils in the backyard. Or go dancing. Im pretty sure dancing is holy. The point is that more than dating or fucking or whatever, I need to be actively creating as an essential aspect of who I am. I *think when I am fulfilled and growing there, I am totally in myself. AND WHEN I am fully embodied, I am attracting energies/people into my life who vibe on me and my thing.
2. Men are human. People are people. There is so much to say about the first statement and how profoundly different I feel in this one way. I am just in this new awareness about how I have objectified men and/or how I have sought them out as my own private on-demand source of affection, sex, validation, company, emotional distraction and/or absorption, etc. On people being people, it’s just a matter of really seeing and listening. Many times when I approached someone I was interested in, I was surprised to discover their person- and then find I was not at all attracted or that curiously I was attracted to people to whom I was at first ambivalent. It was unscientific and irregular. I feel like if I had a “type” before, I’ve thrown it out now because I am waiting for someone to show her/himself to me and then I can ask them to move away or come closer. One more thing about this is that it has softened the experience of rejection because now I really see that rejection does not mean I am unattractive or unloveable, it just means I am not the preferred flavor or someone is unavailable. Or I suppose many other reasons but really, it’s not a referendum on my attractiveness. I have many times had the experience of finding totally attractive, lovable people not attractive to me for sometimes obvious and other times indelible reasons. We are all just doing the best we can to be happy, living out our version of the dream. I feel confident that me and my dream will one day fit perfectly with someone else’s.
3. Historically, I have not been acting normally around people that I am crushing on or want to sleep with. This has actually given me the opportunity to notice it and make very very different choices about how I behave and communicate with the people I am attracted to. And even when I don’t really have the power to act differently, I can observe what I am doing and change the way I judge myself for it. Move from “You’re so fake” to “It’s very sweet that you like this person so much that you really want to impress them.” At the end of the day, I don’t want to attract someone by being different than I am and for me the vulnerability of self is tricky, even with close friends. I’m learning. I have some people in my life who show me love even in or maybe especially in my hideousness. These are the people I want to be around. I have been in relationships with people who fell for the lie and when they saw me they fled and that was some fucked up painful stuff, in the relationship and when it ended. Now I just want someone who loves me as is and doesn’t try to shame me for the things about myself that are me.
4. I think I want to date women. Well, at least one woman.
5. When someone is not interested or unavailable, respect that. Part of respecting that means not questioning it or trying to manipulate a different outcome. Oh, that reminds me: when someone does not want to have sex, it’s also really important to just respect that, not question it, and it’s really cool to continue to be physically intimate even when you know someone will not fuck you. I feel like this was covered in high school, but I just want to reiterate in case you forgot or thought that you were entitled to have sex with ANYBODY- whether it is the person you just met to your long term partner. Stating that you do not want to have sex stands on it’s own and healthy grown ups can say it and also hear it when someone else says it.
6. Energy is a real thing and we are all exchanging it with everyone we encounter. You can choose to have good energy and to share it with people freely. Sexual energy is distinct and noticeable and powerful and is something that should be wielded with care.
7. I want to be able to express myself completely with people I am having sex with and I don’t want any of those relationships to suffer the limitations of being exclusively sexual. And truthfully, for me, if I am not emotionally and spiritually attuned and connected to my lover, or do not wish to be, then the physical part ends. I might only be a love-maker. That actually suits me perfectly. And I guess the same statement applies to my lover not being spiritually and emotionally attuned and connected to me and closed to a deeper relationship growing: then the physical part must end also. Even though that is super hard for me to do, it’s just for the best.
8. Freedom is everything and the moment is the only place to be. Valuing these, love, and full self expression above all else doesn’t preclude a committed relationship and monogamy is not the only way to love. I’m not sure how all of this will shake out in my lifetime but I know I’m open to see how it evolves.
9. My perception of myself in the world is distorted and shape shifting.
10. No one is “out of my league”. Or yours. Ask for what you want- be grateful and open to what comes.
And maybe that’s all I’ve got on this for now. I’m at peace, it’s at rest. Everything as it should be. I love, I love, I love and am so very ready to give it all to you.
There is a little disclaimer I overlooked early on which is that I get the banality of this project and I know it is almost insultingly stupid given some of the awful realities that people are facing and things that I could be talking about. It is excessively self indulgent and silly so I must say both sorry and thank you for reading this or caring about me or ma vie d’amour. So, sorry! Thanks!
There is a meta-meditation out of the Buddhist tradition that I have been practicing consciously these past few days out of a kind of dizzying psychic tremor which has left me so very aware of how much pain people are in. It started a couple days ago when I met a saintly older man who had recently lost his daughter to suicide. I felt my heart swell up to fill my entire ribcage when he told the story about coming out to her a few years ago (he had been a closeted gay man married with kids for decades) and her response to him was something about loving him as a complete package, not just parts of him. The space around him was so available for others to step in and grieve, as if in his magnitude he was offering to take and hold on to all of our hurts. The meditation practice is to inhale the pain and suffering of others, and exhale your love and light.
And so, for days, but most especially tonight:
(Inhale) give me some of your hurt, I can hold it;
pause;
(Exhale) please accept my finest love and my brightest light.
There. 🙂 I hope that love light reaches you, wherever you are!
This afternoon I stumbled into my chiropractors waiting room and was immediately greeted by a warm and handsome smile of a man who I *think I saw there yesterday as well. The head chiropractor was sitting next to him going over his treatment plan and he kept looking up at me and smiling, as if he was checking to see if I was still there and so happy to find out that I was. That’s an awesome way to feel when someone attractive is looking at you and smiling. The doctor got up and left, leaving us to just sit there smiling at each other. Incidentally, on the TV above his head was an awful Nat Geo moment of 2 seals attacking each other. Amazing. Here is the conversation we had:
Smiles: “Are you feeling any better today?”
Me: (shrug) “Sure, or I am on my way to feeling better. How are you feeling?”
Smiles: “That’s right, you just have to stay positive, keep a real positive outlook. I feel amazing- ever since I started coming here, such a turn around, 100% better.”
Me: “Oh I am so happy to hear that! Yes, you’re totally right- being positive is the only way”
The doctor returns and calls him up to the desk so he can collect paperwork and schedule the next visit. He stands up and walks to the desk, dressed in classic gray sweats, tall, muscular, he’s got that Brooklyn style sensibility that is so so attractive- the kind of clothes worn in such a way that you just want to take them off. While he talks with the doctor and receptionist, he continues to look over at me and smile.
Me: “So, do you live in Brooklyn?”
Smiles: “Yes I sure do. Do you live in Brooklyn?”
Me: “I do! What part are you in?”
Smiles: “Flatbush. What about you?”
Me: “Oh, Flatbush? We are neighbors, I’m in Bed Stuy.”
Smiles: “Oh really? Well, nice to meet you, neighbor.”
Me: “Yes, nice to meet you too! We should…”
Smiles: “… meet sometime in the neighborhood for a drink?”
Me: “Yes, that’s what I was thinking.”
Smiles: “Me too, let me give you my number.”
And he gives me his number, we introduce ourselves, shake hands. As he leaves he looks over his shoulder and smiles at me again asking me to call him soon to set up that drink. Of course, of course. From his glasses and smile, to that BK swagger, to his overt interest in and attraction to me- I liked all of it. OK, so, technically, he did the asking, but I was moving in that direction, clearly, so- we have a tie. I did not call him yet, but I will tomorrow.
Yesterday I had dinner with my polyamorist friend and that was lovely and delicious, just like he is. I have been reading The Ethical Slut and appreciating the insights and tips for beginners in the Lifestyle. I brought it to his attention and he said that it was a good introduction. We talked a bit about parties and fantasies. Sadly, I was unavailable when he invited me to a party a couple weeks ago. We have had some scheduling challenges. He explained to me a little more about how people behave at parties, and how to meet people to act out/fulfill fantasies with. It’s all very interesting.
At one point I discovered a scar on his chest and after he told me the story of it he asked if I had any interesting scars. In my mind I thought ‘none on the outside’ but I spared him my drama and just said ‘no, not yet!’ The thing that I am tripping on, just the littlest bit, is that because I know he is unavailable and I do not want to get confused about that, I am finding myself a little shut down around him to the point of not really being able to be satisfied sexually- like, I’m not really able to connect because I have powered down the whole grid in an effort to protect myself and also not push him away should I have any feelings. This suuuuuuucks. I’m hoping it goes away. I mean, look- I am tryyyying to learn how to be fond of someone, express that in appropriate ways, but not have any expectation or attachment. And I am actually doing it well, I think; this thing is not a thing for me, and the only way I know of, at this time, to keep it that way is to not invite him into my heart and not initiate any more dates. He can initiate, he can call it. I don’t think the solution is to discuss it with him- it is definitely in the realm of my processes and I’m grateful to be so awake in this but it does feel a little… hard for me to navigate. I do not want to hide or deny my affection for this man, but I am; and I have picked up on what feels like a tightness, a distaste if the conversation turns emotive. That’s a shame, because I feel like that’s the best thing I have to offer. He has got this down- he is affectionate, polite, considerate, open, charming, generous- and completely energetically unavailable, there is nothing for me to plug into. I’ve probably got some decisions to make about this- it might be untrue to ME, my soul, my blue; AND I have absolutely had some yucky experiences with dissociation and sex and I don’t want to make love like that any more in this body. Aye. And Yay! Here’s a quote from The Ethical Slut that feels apropos:
When you find yourself worrying about how you may be seen by others, remember that there is no point in pretending you are anyone except who you are. It does you no good to attract somebody who thinks you are somebody else: all you get is somebody who is excited about somebody who isn’t you. When you are honest, you attract people who are interested in you, just as you most wonderfully are.
Since I could not look out from under my umbrella in our rainy, windy city today, I had to get creative to maintain my integrity with this project… and things had gotten a little stale around here. Match just would not do.
First, to Brad, David, James, Johnny, Fabrizio, Adrian and Christopher: if I saw any one of you on the street I would find you compellingly attractive and would absolutely ask you to go on a date with me. (Wait, there is a lie in there: Adrian- I saw you one afternoon on the C train way before this project and honestly, I did NOT ask you out because I was just trying to respect you and enjoy your presence. ) You should know that I am single, sweet, & supafly and I have been challenged to ask out 100 men who I think are “out of my league” in 100 days. I started on Valentine’s Day and have been having a lot of fun! Earnestly, I would love to keep the company of any or all of you, I bet we would have a very very good time. Consider it! Oh, and, please check out the rest of my writing on the project! xxx
A couple of weeks ago I was in a seminar and I noticed a vibrant and beautiful woman. She would go out of her way to smile at me, would place her hand on my shoulder when walking by. At first I thought she was just friendly and sweet and then she sat down in front of me and I was able to take in more of her. She is a one-punch knock out, tall and curvy, big brown eyes, Columbian. I have a thing for Columbians apparently. We had some energy flying between us and when it was time for a break, she and I went for a walk to grab a coffee.
I was totally into her from the jump, and I could tell she liked me too, but I wasn’t sure how this would be, really. Something about the obvious attraction between us was obfuscated, in shadow- hidden from me. We enjoyed that coffee; our time together was close, energetic, echoing. When we got back, we exchanged numbers and I texted her the next day to follow up with her about a project I knew she was working on. She said, “I would love to get together with you to talk with you more about it” to which I replied quickly with my availability. We set up a date a week in advance, and that date was tonight.
She thoughtfully chose a veg-friendly restaurant and we met for dinner. I was feeling/looking a little frumpy today because my back is still jacked and I had just come from the chiropractor. She rolls in looking like a super model, effortlessly beautiful, tall and radiant. This may be the moment I realized that we might be on a date. I’m pretty sure that was a date. And if it was not, well then I gotta jump on getting her to go on a date with me. She made it very clear to me that she dates both men and women. In discussing her recent struggles, she gave me with her exact location in life, her vulnerability endears her to me. We had a beautiful evening and I can hardly wait to really put it on her the next time, so there will be NO ambiguity about whether this is a date or not.
Funny thing though, when we were checking out- I had a really surprising exchange of innuendo with the man who came to take our check. He had a lot of power there, luckily I was so into my date that I didn’t push it, but I could have. She loved watching him and I flirt, she liked my way with him. I would have liked to have my way with him for sure; I liked how she handled that. I’m not sure that this fits as asking someone out (I did ask her for that coffee) or having a date and therefor letting myself off the hook for kicking it to anyone- it is both and it is the only story I have today! I’m sleep-writing this, let me go- and again fingers and toes are crossed, light the love candles on your altar, because I have a date scheduled with my musician friend Friday (day 45). Feels like forever away.
PS there is some crazy shit happening in the sky tonight. Big full moon lunar eclipse, a grand water trine AND the long awaited Cardinal Cross.
I can’t tell you exactly what all that means but I can say this: the big message is about letting go. My friend emailed me and wrote of this astrology, “changes are accelerating as of now!” so I will leave you with that. Just stay hydrated and honest and you will be just fine.
I, will most likely just be exhausted from all this romancing 😉 let it accelerate, tho- I am ready.
That’s right! Shit, it is hard to imagine doing this for just as much more time as it has been done already, if that makes sense. Among the most popular questions that people ask me when discussing this project is what would I do if I met someone really awesome while in the middle of it. The answer is that I don’t know- I think love takes it’s own course in spite of our best efforts to avoid, force or control it. It’s generally been interesting to consider this whole thing in relation to the subject or the men that I am asking out- because obviously it’s often bigger than just the initial question. One thing that is on my mind this morning is how I think about men- categorically, individually, as a species of their own; human of course but somehow distinct from me, other than, foreign. Unexamined and powerful, this ideology is alienating- I feel like I have missed out on so much of what is beautiful and lovable about these creatures. And I love men, I really do- but I think I may have been doing some combination of objectifying and idealizing that has prevented me from really honoring the humanity and divinity of men. I’m really sorry- I feel pretty sad about this. You all deserved way better and I hope that from this moment forward I can make it up to you by showing up open, curious, and available to love each of you in a purely creative and respectful way.
This morning I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was the business card of the man that I met last night at a going-away/moving-on party for a friend. In this way, I woke up smiling because I had a great time with him, and his affection left a sort of sweetness about me, like the air around a cotton candy machine. Open your mouth and breathe this in the next chance you get. In that precious state of almost pre-consciousness that happens just between waking and the end of the first cup of coffee, moments of our conversations from the night before came to mind, the color of his eyes, the dimple on his right cheek, his bottom lip, the way he would place his hand on the side/back of my skull to pull my ear closer to his mouth to make sure I could hear him and how this would cause me to tingle and lose focus, just like inhaling a big hit of some really good pot. By the time I was on my second cup and getting into the shower, I was thinking that he’s really sweet and cute but we are obviously not going to date-date but I could just enjoy his Ecuadorian cooking and that bottom lip for a little while… and this amazing thought interjection happened, like the voice of God or something. And that voice asked me,
“Why don’t you set aside this predetermination and try to get to know him as a person before you decide just what’s possible here?”
See, because what had categorized this man as ‘out of my league’ is that he is 7 years younger than I am and he is really, really attractive- and, well, I have a ‘thing’ about this. Like a really big thing. Most of the time I assume that men, all of them, prefer the company of much younger women- women who are younger than them and much younger than me. If a younger man is flirting with me, I generally assume that he is being polite. Or if a young man gives me his seat on the subway, it’s out of a general respect and courtesy for older women. Honestly. Or if I can see that he is flirting with/interested in me, it is that he is curious about having sex with an older woman because he has heard that older women are really great in bed because they have more experience and are less self-conscious or something. In fact, when I walked into this party last night, I heard someone call out my name and I was so surprised to see that it was this young man- surprised that he remembered my name (we met once for 7 seconds months ago) and super impressed when he came over to greet me and point out to me where the guest of honor was, since I really didn’t know anyone else there. That second part, his thoughtful kindness and obviously well-raised manners totally caught me off guard and sort of amplified the idea that he saw me as a super-adult, like, someone’s parent and not just some other peer at the party, you know? This is totally my complex, my silly shit- he’s just awesome and kind- I’m the one with the AARP complex around young attractive men. I thought about this more during the day, about all of the people I know with 5+ years age difference between them, and I was imagining the older person in the scenario, how they might have behaved and what they were thinking… and I suspect that mostly they were just happy to have met someone cute and awesome who they enjoyed spending time with.
I often ask myself what my friends would do and then do that. They are a fucklot smarter than me and they have lives I admire, relationships I might want for myself. Thanks friends for being awesome.
It became pretty clear after talking with this man for a few minutes that the chemistry was correct. He is easy to talk to, hilarious, warm, earnest- doing really great things with his time and his life. I have not laughed that hard in a long time. He taught me how to take my time and savor something by demonstrating on a Starburst. Sentimentally, he suggested I keep the wrapper. He’s my kind. He told me that he couldn’t exactly describe the kind of woman that he was looking for, but believed he would know it when he saw it. The longer we spoke the more he would put his hand on my upper arm or lower back, I instinctively touched his chest. We discussed this blog, I told him I was going to make him my number 5-0; he told me I ruined it and needed better game than that to get with him. At this I wasn’t exactly shut down but I certainly reconsidered if I was going to do it or not, in a paranoid way I thought maybe he was warning me that he would reject me. We sort of wandered off to talk to other people for a bit, I thought I might have freaked him out with the blog or just with myself so I let it go.
We circled back and at some softer moment I did get a little serious with him and let him know I was really attracted to him and would love to have dinner with him. Watching his eyes then his mouth as he watched my eyes then my mouth. Stepping back to get some air, waiting. He said yes he would like to have dinner with me. When I took out my phone to get his number, he preferred to give me a card but did not have one with him. Conveniently, his office is in the building, so we went to his office to find that card…
I took a cab home and stopped in the souq for cat food. My Yemeni friends lit up to see me. I probably looked a little dreamy. Not dreamy-hot, like dreamy-orbit. As I was checking out, the one who previously asked me out asked me for a kiss and I obliged him. I’m sure I was emanating a kiss me kiss me kiss me vibe.
I’m not sure I have ever really dated more than one person at a time, and next week I have 2 second dates and a first. It’s not so bad because I don’t find myself obsessing about any individual person, but I do feel a little less available, less accessible- fragmented, shrewd. Recalling the advice of one of the non-monogamists/polyamorists, which was to be fully and passionately in the moment with the person that was there, make that experience the best that it could be. Love the one you’re with. Keep it light, breezy, open- notice and do not attach. Gather information. Be sweet, be free. The Tarot reading I did last week indicated that I would soon be faced with many choices, and warned that I not just take the one that looked the best. Our sense of sight is, after all, the least reliable of the 6.
Of the serious boyfriends of my life, I have met 3 of them on April 8th. No lie.
My High-school Sweetheart: 4/8/1994
I was working at a popular roadside ice cream and burger stop. It was a Friday night early in the season and I had plans with my girls to go to a party hosted by an older boy, I think he may have been in his second year of college. I was 2 months shy of 16. When I saw the white Honda Prelude pull up, my heart quickened, as I had seen this car before, and the guy who drove it was really, really hot. He was tall and tan, had that long-ish skater punk hair, sea blue-green eyes,the straightest teeth and sweetest smile. He did not go to my high school, I didn’t know him. He and his friend got into the line at my window,looking at me and kind of whispering to each other. They ordered, flirtatiously, and sat a table waiting for their order, still watching me. I was blushing and showing off in the way 15 year old girls do. I made sure that I, personally, called their order out over the speaker, they came up and his friend asked me if I had a boyfriend, which, at the time I did not. I looked at my crush and asked them if they wanted to come back later when I got out to go to a party, they said sure. Haha, I guess I had those instincts even at 15… it’s true, I knew.
Sure enough, he and his friend came back to meet me. My besties came to pick me up, and the boys got in the car with us and off we went. I sat right on his lap in the back seat pile up- I think there were at least 4 or 5 of us squeeshed in. We got high, we sang songs, laughing and radiating out into the night. When we spilled out of the car, I whispered to him “Will you hold my hand, please?” and he smiled, reached out and took my hand and said “Of course. Why?” and I replied, “Because I don’t want any of these other girls to think they can hit on you” and we walked into the house, laughing, holding hands.
There was a little drama upon arrival- I was part of a crew of boys, and one of those boys had his mark on me. He did not like to see me walk in holding a strangers hand, and he made it known by being a total dick to my dude. We got more high, more drunk- our high school parties always got stupid, people barfing and setting things on fire; standing in spontaneous circles spitting on each others shoes and laughing at the expense of someone else.
In a drunken heartbeat hallway, we were alone and we fell into someone’s bedroom. I don’t remember when the first kiss happened but now we were moving, fast, beyond that. Drunk and unexpected, I took him in my hands; he came quickly and I gasped ‘Ohhh I’m so sorry!’ because, well, the mess. He burst out laughing and told me he had never heard of someone apologizing for making someone come, and I burst out laughing too. We lay there laughing and kissing and smiling for a bit; cleaned up and made our way back out to the keg, where we split up to report back to our people, like we did way back then.
The next day, I saw him again, and by Sunday, he was my boyfriend. He got me a kitten for my 16th birthday and we named the kitten Paco. Inseparable and happy, we stayed together until midway through my first semester of college… Then one morning after tripping at a Violent Femmes show, I woke up and, without warning, smashed his heart into bits after breakfast.
The First One I Lived With: 4/8/2001
He worked at a pizza place up the hill from the youth center I was working in. I went there often with the kids and sort of smoldered awkwardly in his presence, every time. He was tall and thin with very trendy dark rimmed glasses, spiky black hair and white blue eyes. So Weezer. I loved his big Jewish nose and his little boy lips, giant hands, and the way he moved. His movements were both exaggerated and deliberate but he was somehow floaty and soft, like sunny day clouds.
I loved him.
One night I was over there with 2 of the kids I was particularly close to- they were a couple and they were funny. She knew I had a crush on him and totally embarrassed the SHIT out of me by asking him if he was single, telling him that I was and that I thought he was really hot. He looked at me quizzically and I burned bright red, scrunched my face, shook my head and turned heel, walked right out. The kids came after me laughing trying to drag me back but there was no way. Humiliating.
Some time later, I was in a bar playing pool with some friends and he came up to the table, laid his quarters down for the next game. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. I was a hella pool player as was my partner, so we won and up he came for the match. He was a hella pool player as was his partner; I don’t remember who won, but I do know we flirted our way around that table! He was UP on me and I was SO into it. We talked away for the rest of the night, he was drinking Red Bull and vodkas and I could smell that faux strawberry Red Bull smell on his breath. Just a sweet and happy drunkie, smoking his Marlboro lights, among a crew of friends who I could tell were all good people. It was easy to see he was gold. I asked him if he remembered me from the awkward incident in the pizza shop and he freaked out when he made the connection. That day, he had gotten his first real job as a graphic designer for a small Chinese appliance company in New York City. He took my number on the inside of his cigarette pack, kissed me before I left. Exhilarated and turned out into the starry, sweet smelling New Paltz night, lovestruck; driving and singing my way over the mountain.
That was a Friday, and when he called me the next night Saturday Night Live was on and it was Coldplay’s first appearance. They played the song ‘Yellow’ in the background of our call; he invited me over the next day for a grill and canoe in the afternoon. I accepted. He lived with a couple dudes in a cabin right on the Walkill River. He bounced out to the car when I pulled up, took my hand and gave me a tour of the house and property. He introduced me to his roomates and friends who were enjoying the afternoon, they were all super nice and everything was beautiful.
“Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.” as Kurt Vonnegut said…
We had a fast and sweet 3 months, he was so thoughtful and fun to be with. There was something that was a little off for me, I was uncomfortable and couldn’t really pinpoint what or why, but at the time I interpreted it as I wasn’t really into him. We broke up, he did not take it well; I was sad and confused about it but it seemed like the right thing to do. A couple months later I saw him in the bar and we ended up going home together. Things kind of went like that for a few weeks- we were hanging out and sometimes having sleep overs, but we were not quite back together- you know. Like that.
Then on September 11, 2001, I was driving home from my morning class at the college and I was listening to live radio of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. I stopped for a pack of smokes and got home quickly, tried to call him and his phone was busy. I knew nothing of the geography of NYC at that time, but I knew his office was right in the middle of it and I was really really scared. I was sitting on the floor of my apartment in my underwear taking bong hits, watching live as the second plane hit; my mother called and suggested I come home right away. I kept trying to call him and could not reach him. Emailed; no response. I went to work and sat on the front porch steps consumed with worry. I called his good buddy to ask if he had heard anything, and his friend said “Oh, he just got here- he was on the last bus they let out of the city- do you want to talk to him?” and I just hung up the phone, got into my car and drove to his friends apartment.
In all of my life, before and since, I have never been happier to see someone as I was to see him in that moment. I jumped into his arms and we cried. We smoked a bowl and played some video games, counted all of our ducks, made our way to the bar. It struck me that my feelings for this person must have been much deeper than I understood and that night, I told him I loved him and wanted to get back together. He agreed. On our way home from the bar, we got jumped in the parking lot- it was a mess. People got really hurt, and it was a hard awful day. He managed only a black eye, I had a sore throat.
Two months later we moved in together and had the best time in our first apartment. We painted every room and arranged all of our art, filled up our refrigerator and made love every night. He had a home office but commuted an hour and 45 minutes to the city every day. He loved me madly and was always funny and kind.
We lived in that apartment for 2 years and then moved closer to the city when I got a new job. Simultaneously, I was really getting strange and disturbed from all of the drugs and alcohol I had been consuming for the past 10 years. Our home life was bittersweet; he was starting to get really concerned about my drinking. One night he came home from work so so upset because that morning when he left, he could not wake me because I was so fucking trashed passed out wasted from the night before. I was deeply ashamed and promised to get better but what I really did was started lying and hiding my alcohol and drug use. It was a dark time.
We lost that apartment and he told me he thought I had a problem and needed to get help. We moved back in with our respective parents to try to sort things out. One evening I went down to visit him, he had prepared a picnic on his front lawn, purchased my favorite red wine. As soon as he saw me he started to cry and asked me “You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” I looked down and the blanket and nodded, huge tears falling from my face to my hands. He threw the wine bottle and the glasses, those big deliberate movements, floating thunderstorm clouds. I left him there, on the lawn at his parents house, and drove 90 minutes home to a bar. I woke up the next morning unsure of the night before, in the bed of a friend.
I spent the next 6 months in a black out, he and I did not see each other but would have sad sad conversations every now and then. He wanted me to come back and I was not sure, I was really fucked up and trying to figure things out. His life kept moving. Then one day he told me he met someone else and was going to date her- I needed to think hard and fast. A month later, he called to tell me he had fallen in love with someone else and could not speak to me anymore.
In a way that I did not understand or see at the time, he was like my last life line, the only thing I had that was possibly going to tether me to myself or life as it had been and suddenly he was gone. Forlorn and exhausted, I must have prayed; within days, I stopped drinking and using drugs and that was over 10 years ago.
The One I Never Really Had: 4/8/2006
In the early days of MySpace, one day a message came through from a local performer, inviting me to check out one of the shows he hosted at a local bar. I kind of felt bad for him, and admired him for doing this kind of individual social networking recruitment (my, times have changed, huh?!) so I wrote him back to thank him and said I would be happy to come to a show. He wrote me back, and suddenly we were in it- and IT was very cute- anticipating his messages, creepin on his pictures.
Within days, he asked me to meet him for tea at a local coffee shop that I hung out at a lot. I remember exactly what I was wearing, and I remember clearly standing outside chatting with some friends when he walked up. I caught his elbow before he went inside, he smiled huge and kissed me on the cheek, introduced himself to my friends. Led me by the arm as he held the door to go inside. We ordered jasmine green teas and went up to the loft, where we stayed for hours. It was early and obvious, what was happening there. He was not shy to reach down and touch my foot to say he liked my shoes; hook his finger on my shirt to pull it down and admire the tattoo on my chest; lean in to smell my perfume. He wore Aqua di Gio and to this day I can’t think straight when I smell it. He was/is Sicilian and unbearably gorgeous, with the deepest man voice on Earth, the softest brown eyes. Goofy, easily worked up, loud, self-effacing, doped on me, sexy as hell.
Within the week, we met at the coffee shop 2 more times before I invited him over to my apartment for tea. As I write this, my heart is swelling, in memory of that time in my life, the early days of him. I have written other parts of this story here- Day 10, Days 28 & 29.
Sometimes I think all the bad karma I accumulated from the ways I hurt the first two was all payed up with this one. Jesus, I hope so.
Um, not for nothing, I did just meet someone- who appears exceptionally great- the day before yesterday, or, 4/8. Not that that means anything or anything, but it is a very sweet first date entrance story. Briefly: He asked me to meet him at a popular speak-easy downtown. I arrived at the door and rang the bell. A full minute later, a beautiful woman out of time opened the door and greeted me apathetically, asking if I had a reservation. I said no and explained I was meeting someone here. She asked my name, then looked at her list and said “Oh, you are here to meet ____, come in” and she closed the door and locked it behind me, telling the other people there that she would be with them in a minute.
She was bustling about the front area, a man came out and asked for his coat. They had an exchange, she offered to take my coat- it was very warm and dark inside. Whisky smoke jazz, low light, lacy wallpaper & gold rimmed mirrors. Gatsby-esque. These are my people, this is my place. She hangs my coat, I tousle my mane and step down into a room of velvet couches candles and close couples, the opening horn of ‘At Last’ by Etta James croons as I cross the room. She tells me he is in the bar as we glide through the room , heads and eyes turning up to watch us. Just as I cross the threshold to the back room bar, Etta begins… “At laaaaaasssssst…” The hostess introduces us by name, he looks at me with a brilliant smile and Etta booms, “… my looooove has come hoooome…”
no i do not love you 