The O of the XOXO

I have this strange ability to love the person I am with in the moment I am with them. And then the moment they are gone, the connection is gone and I can find another moment with another person just as easily. But I could swear in those moments, the feelings are real. And I mean, this is actually impossible, because many of those moments, seeing as I have experienced many, many moments, are with people I really hardly share words with. Perhaps its just my mistaking sexual intimacy with something emotional.

This guy I barely know slept over on Friday night. We have shared maybe 10 sentences tops between one another, but he is very hot and somehow his quiet demeanor extends a sense of intimacy to those he actually pays attention to. He is a drummer. Go figure. I hardly know anything about him, all I know is there is an intensity to him and after a bunch of grey goose on the rocks/splash sodas/two limes I suppose I felt comfortable eough exploring that. So we drank. We did not talk much, he followed me home to meet my dog and then he got in my bed and slept over. Body to body, feet to feet. And he wrapped his arms around me. A more intimate action then perhaps putting himself inside of me. I mean, wrapped arms around a body indicate protection, knowing, familiarity, there is no orgasm at the end, its literally an innately comforting and close feeling. So there we were, holding one another. No sex, just closeness. He stayed the morning as well. There was some fumbling, nothing major, just a body next to a body. Heating up my bed, making me feel warm.

And then he left. Hardly a goodbye and hardly a regret.

And it worked. My stress subsided just for a moment, because I got my fill. But I was held again later that day by Andrew, my neighbor/lover/locksmith/bug killer. And we have more to share, of course, we have been dancing in circles for 5 months now, but still, when it comes down to it, we hold each other. And that is it.

So my real question lies in the odd sense that people, in this city, have an impossible time figuring out how to hold one another in the figurative sense. We can jump from bed to bed feeling the intimacy of an embrace, however, we lack consistency and emotional outpour. It all lies in this open ended body locking, warm and gushy, temporary embrace.

I wonder if I was cuddled too much as a baby, or something.

Today, I walked Charlotte past her best buds Nico and Titan. Titan jumped on his hind legs to embrace me and Charlotte quickly nipped him away. I suppose not EVERY being is ok sharing his or her embrace-er. If anyone should want me all to themselves it should at least be my puppy.

Touch Me.

I wonder how many people's skin has touched mine. When you are born, right from the birth canal, you are caught, rubber glove to skin and then your mother holds you, skin to skin and the barrier is broken. You've been touched. Then for the rest of your life it is your prerogative to decide who, when, why someone touches you. Or is it? And when it stops being your prerogative does the novelty of touch just die?

There are all kinds of touch, the kind that feels comfortable, the kind that feels exciting, the kind that hurts, the kind that is dangerous.

I wonder what kind of touch has changed me more.

Lost and Lost again.

Lee thinks I should make a new record. He says I am better then all the other girls singing written songs out there. I am trying to hear him, but it bounces of my eardrum right back to him. Like a light my passion turned off. Sometimes I close my eyes real tight and inside the blackness I see the yellow walls of my childhood bedroom and I hear the karaoke stereo blaring and my stomach drops the way it did when I would sing the high notes, the low notes and the notes in between. My cheekbones tingle a little. And as if my mind reverts its not the sound that I hear but the dreams I remember having. The restless nights of sleep with my kicky legs in action thinking to myself, when will it be my turn? I gotta get out of here.

Then I lost my voice and did not try too hard to get it back. So it's gone. TTYL.

Today my friend told me that her friend had to have her uterus removed. And selfishly, the first thing I thought about was what I would say if I was her friend. And I could just picture myself looking up and saying, "I am losing my womanhood and am not even able to sing about it."

Loss is uncontrolled and that is what makes it so aggressively painful.

No Way Jose

You helped to take away the innocence of a love I lost and I am supposed to rejoice in the new love you found.

I don't think so.

A Nightmare

With the surface of the water far above my head and the strength of the tide getting stronger, I pull and grasp, but to no avail. The weighted rope tied to my ankle gets heavier and it pulls me down. My dress flows aimlessly around me and bits are lit by the sun that peaks through the glass top of this enclosed sea. I can't reach it, though. I keep pushing and pulling and reaching and screaming silently, to no avail. Until my hands can't reach any more, they drop to my sides and I float aimlessly. Wishing. He would just let me go.

Ouch

My stomach hurts again. But I am ignoring it. It's the damn wings of those bloody butterflies. Flapping. Smacking my stomach, the tips of my toes, the top of my head. Clouding my vision, cramping my brain, ringing my ears. I can't think.
So I'll slap my hands together and pray. Butterfly wings please wrap yourselves around and form the cocoon from whence you came, open up and let the caterpillar slink away quietly. Go backwards in time. I am afraid if I move forward you will all just flutter until you fly away and I don't think my body could take another departure.

Is there a problem with....

Chatting on line with your new beau while your ex beau sends you e mail after e mail of pictures of the two of you from days gone by?

There must be some sort of problem with this...

What is he thinking?!

Either of them....

It's not always about you

Tali worries that Maya doesn't ask how she is doing, Maya worries Tali does not ask why she is not doing. Both of them wonder the same selfish thing about each other. Tali flies high, she has met a man, and of course, she lifts. Because it is all about what happens TO you that lifts you, not what happens inside of you, or around you that makes you happy, but what happens to you and oh, so often, it has to do with a man.

Why is that? Why do they carry this power.

Not just men. Career, success, if you have it you are defined, if you don't you are not. No one just sits still and sees themselves from the inside out. Outside factors always make a person who they are.

Maybe that is the problem. If we were ultimately defined by what we thought of ourselves and not what everyone around us though, man, boss, fan, we would all be giving each other what we really want and need.

Karma

All of my friends are falling in love around me. The good ones and the bad ones. The ones who deserve it and the ones who don't. And I am still standing here. Closed for business. Do you think its because I keep him around? Maybe if I dropped it all with him, even the e mails back and forth, maybe I'd move on. And maybe my energy would shift, or something cheesy like that?

Who knows, I don't know, I don't get it. It's not as though I am not happy for everyone around me. I am just wondering why I don't deserve it too. How passive does that sound!

I'm too extreme. I'm in for one day, out the next, I rotate men like I wash my hair. Every two days and there is another one in the mix (bed). I thought Charlotte would warm me up, apparently it's not enough.

Is this lack of integrity bringing me bad energy? If I treated myself with just smallest degree of respect, would things turn right? I don't know. I don't know if I care. I don't know if I just find this way easier. No falls, good or bad, no need to be picked up, good or bad. None of it.

All I know, is I must be missing a step or two.

Danger

...feels so good.

Evidently my addiction has not subsided. He remains present. And I should be seeing him this week.

I have no soul it seems.

No soul or self control.

Laundry

Today I did my laundry at the laundromat down the street from my apartment. There was a tall beautiful woman with her jet black hair in a short bob. She folded laundry silently next to her shorter then hr husband. He folded her thong underwear, she matched their kids socks. They did not look at each other, they did not talk to each other, they completed their weekend chore and left. In silence.

Is that how it all ends up?