ive kept a handwritten journal since i was in tenth grade in high school. wrote in it every day almost, just to save myself from therapy. i still remember the yellow-spiraled cheap notebook, pages tattered; some lost and forgotten, others stuck by staples or tape. i loved that journal.
through time and multiple moves and mostly disorganization, ive misplaced it. in fact, i dont know where my other journals are, but ive learned that it doesnt matter their location. the fact that they existed with me once upon a time is enough to cary me.
i dont know how to explain how i am when im writing my thoughts. part of me becomes embroiled in the process of writing, how the pen makes love to the paper, how the letters form. another part of me is entranced by my fleeting thoughts, that what i think isnt always static. i change my mind so much, contradict myself, but this is my way of processing and analyzing tiny details in order to see the big picture.
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i met someone a few months ago. he was by far the most amazing man ive met in a very long time. he was probably the first man ive gotten involved with. many others are boys compared to him.
i guess what separated him from others was that he is a father. he is first a father, and every other role he plays is a distant second. in him, ive found a comrade who understood the demands of one area of my life. and listening to him when he talked to his little boy made me want to be a better parent.
not only a better parent, but a better person. he made me feel like a woman. he brought out my sensuality and creativity. but most of all, he brought out my femininity. it had been so long.
he inspired me to write again. he made all these beautiful words come out from my soul. intensity is the word that ive learned from his essence. everything was intense with him. text messages, kisses, looks, orgasms, love. they were so welcomed.
his love for fashion inspired me to dress and accessorize and buy things i never thought id buy before. if i were to spend the night at his house, i chose the next-days outfit carefully because i dressed for him, even if he saw me in it for only a few moments.
his calmness soothed me. i would always listen to his heart after we had both cum, and i would be amazed by how unchanged the rhythm was. his heart. so fucking big and really beautiful, i would imagine. ive only seen glimpses of it, feelings never directed towards me, but to his boy and to others who were in his life.
he is the tallest man ive ever been with, not in height but in magnitude. when i was with him, i felt elevated to a new level. he described himself as simple, but he is anything but.
and to him, i will always be grateful for how he changed me in such little time. he woke me up from a numbed existence. he made me feel again, and he doctored me to being who i am at this single moment.
and because of him, ive decided to take down this blog. a year ago, i started it to relieve some creative tension, and i became addicted to improving my style and technique and details.
this blog had saved me more times than i can imagine in the same way he saved me from living a desensitized life.
will i write again? of course. i couldnt live without documentation.
will i write here? no. i have to leave this part of me behind now, as i try to work on parts of me that need so much improvement.
my only regret is that i wasnt more forthcoming with him about my feelings, but id never learned how to communicate my rawness in a coherent way. i show bits and pieces, and i leave many confused rather than elated.
i love him. i love his flaws. i love the scars on his heart. i love his mind. i love the magic and mysticism in him. i love him. and my heart breaks because of this love, but i want to feel every little pain of it.
so, im off now to follow a direction that i know will lead me to new people, new loves, new experiences. i look forward to this new adventure, hoping to not look back. but its times like these that i wish i can reach out for his hand to walk with me, but i know that i cant.
he has read this blog. learned of my secrets that ive tried to keep from him. learned of my real life. learned of my inability to commit. learned nothing new, for i sense hes always known me all along.
he knows me. and he accepts me. and this scares me, and i push him away.
i had only one wish. to create an expression between he and his son. i had hoped for the opportunity to document them at play together, to document them interact before the little one fell asleep, to document their bond. all in pictures. i had wanted this for him because i hadnt done it for myself.
and did i mention? i invited him to vegas. thats a stretch for me to leave my familiar surroundings and go off on an adventure with someone new. the thought of it frightened me yet made me wish it were already december.
i write this mostly for him, so that he will understand.
but i also write this for you, so you will know where im going.
and i write this for me, so i will remember where ive been.
by ee cummings somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
after a while, you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, and learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling down in midflight and after a while, you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. and you learn that you really can endure... that you really are strong and you really do have worth and you learn and learn... with every goodbye, you learn.
tomorrow is a certain boys birthday, and i am so wildly in love with him. he is truly a gift; one i dont know i deserve, but one i am certainly thankful for.
this boy is wonderful, despite the changes he is undergoing. i still remember that day, 13 years ago, when i meet him for the first time, when i hold him in my arms, when he sleeps next to me.
in the early days of our relationship, when he sleeps for long stretches of time, i develop a fear that he may not be breathing, so i wake him. he stirs, looks at me, and returns to his dreams.
its been me and him only, except for the 5 years of commotion that we spend with the irish bloke. i prefer it that way, although in all honesty, there are times i know it would be easier if i have help. but i wont settle.
hard to believe its been 13 years since ive met him, since he has been in my life. i love it really, being chosen to undertake this responsibility. i love it, and i honor it.
im not very good at it, looking at it traditionally. im not very conventional, and it sometimes bothers me. i want to be more for him, more for myself, but...im limited.
i hate that about myself really. i hate that i cannot make myself be anything other than who i am, and sometimes it is not enough. sometimes its too much. sometimes i feel like goldilocks.
but i love the boy. and i hope that the love will carry him through his trials and tribulations. i hope that i am a good influence to him. i hope he learns only the best from me.
this boy is my anchor. he saves me from myself. he grounds me. he humbles me. he raises me up. he inspires me. he motivates me. he loves me. he says so himself.
he tells me that he waits until saturday to call because i tell him to.
i dont think i said that, i start.
you did. you said you were busy all week and to call you on saturday.
i dont remember that. in fact, i called the time of death on tuesday. i thought i was just another saturday night for you.
no, not at all. it was a long week. a very long week. did you get my message yesterday?
that was you? im sorry, but i didnt recognize the voice. i hardly get calls on my phone, so i thought it was a wrong number or something. so, what are you doing tonite?
im going to study with a buddy.
oh? okay. what are you going to study?
it depends. what are you going to teach me?
well, you already know english, so it probably wont be that. but i have office hours tonite, if youd like to stop by. hey, i have a great idea. some friends are going to dinner. want to join us?
yes.
really? good. around 7:30?
very good.
i pick him up at his place at around 8 o'clock, and as soon as he enters the car, i am at ease. he leans over to kiss me on the cheek so naturally that it seems like he has been doing it forever.
we talk about our week. i tell him that i honestly didnt think i was going to see him again, but im glad it works out. we arrive at chan dara in larchmont village, and i park the car down the street. i kiss him, and the butterflies start fluttering their wings. i dont know how many there are, but i have to catch my breath.
we walk towards the restaurant, and he pulls me close to him. this is how i want to walk with him always: next to him, in his arms, resting my head on his shoulders. he kisses the top of my head every few steps, and i know that i am lucky.
dapel meets us at the door, and i give him a hug. he looks good tonite; hard to believe he is 41. i do wish that he meets someone amazing who will bring out his amazing qualities.
we are seated, and we tell the buddhist how we meet. the buddhist puts his arm on my chair and casually plays with my hair. when the food comes, the buddhist serves me first, dapel next, himself last. i love this courtesy. it is important to have refined manners.
dinner is great. the conversation is effortless. being with dapel and the buddhist, priceless. when the buddhist leaves the table to fetch dapel a new fork, dapel mentions to me that he thinks the buddhist is smitten with me. i cannot stop smiling.
after dinner, we walk back to my car, the buddhist and i. he kisses me deeply, holds me tightly, and looks me in the eyes seriously. i tell him that i fuck things up, and that i may not be the best one to attach oneself to. he agrees, and he says he isnt either. then, he kisses me again, and he tells me i am silly.
we get in the car, and we drive around, past the amphitheatre where my friend and i were the night before. i am so physically attracted to him that i ask him if he wants to go somewhere to be alone. i want to fuck him, i tell him.
forty minutes later, we are sitting on a bed.
come here, baby, i ask.
he comes closer to me, and he kisses me. he undresses me slowly, and he takes his own clothes off after. he lies against me, skin to skin, kissing me, exploring me.
he lifts my knees up and pushes them back towards my chest, and he enters me. i am tight, and it hurts that way, so i bring my legs down.
he is careful to not fuck me too hard because he knows i am experiencing some pain, so he develops a slow, steady rhythm. i move with him, feeling him watching me, holding back until i cum.
he turns me over and fucks me from behind, kissing my back and neck as he does. i push my ass against him, he entering deeper with every grind. when i finally cum, he releases, too.
i lie on my stomach next to him, while he caresses my back. he gets up abruptly, and when i ask where he is going, he tells me he is going to get lotion so he can massage my back.
massage my back. after sex. mindblowing. this guy is a keeper. he finds some lotion, and he straddles me. he gently but firmly kneads my knots from my neck to the top of my ass and back again. i do not know which is more intense - the sex or the massage - but i do not care. i love this.
when he finishes, i am in bliss, and he is kissing me again. he turns me over, and he finds my clit. he is touching me in ways that i have never been touched before, and i cum at least four times this way. he sucks my nipples as i cum or he kisses me hard, making my orgasms more powerful. the whole time my body is shaking, he is holding me tightly, closely.
we lie next to each other, talking, laughing. this, i find, is my favorite part. this is when we share. normally, i hate the whole cuddling business, but with him, i would have it no other way.
we laugh, we talk, we kiss, we smile. he is so attentive to me, and i realize that i have missed this connection with someone. it really takes my breath away.
i tell him that i need to leave, so i gather my clothes. i put on my tank top, and i look at him sitting there watching me. he smiles at me, and i go to him and hug him.
he holds me tightly, kisses me, and rubs my back. i do not want to let go of him; it feels so good to be held by him, to be kissed by him. i kiss his cheeks, his forehead; he kisses my neck, my shoulders. i straddle him, and i move against him. slowly. my clit rubbing against him.
i look at him, his eyes are closed. he opens them to match my gaze, and he pushes me down on my back. he kisses me hard, softly, gently, roughly. he enters me as he is doing so, and i receive him without pain.
he fucks me, saying my name as and when i request. i cum, and he cums, and while he is still in me, i cum again. i ask him not to move, i am pulsating on his cock. he is excited by this, and he becomes hard in me. we fuck again, and we move with each other. it is more carnal now, more physical, more my style.
afterwards, he holds me, and i fall asleep in his arms. when i wake up, i realize i need to leave. i promise to see him in the morning, early.
when i get home, i cannot sleep. i sit there on my makeshift bed, watching some infomercial about some useless product made to look good at 4 in the morning.
at 8 o'clock the next morning, i call him to tell him i will be there in 20 minutes. when i pick him up, he kisses me hello, and i invite him to breakfast. he says he needs to go to temple, so breakfast is out of the question.
we stop by a starfucks, and i say something snippy to him. i immediately apologize for being such a bitch, but i explain to him that this ugliness rears its head when i have had only 3 hours of sleep. he looks at me, and he gives me a hug to signify he forgives me.
i wonder if there will be a time when i can touch you without getting wet, i say out loud.
he smiles, and he shakes his head. the things that come out of your mouth.
i know. im sorry. but i just wonder, you know? and i wonder if there will be a time when i will kiss you when i wont need to catch my breath from the overwhelming feeling of it?
god, grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, the courage to change the things i can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
friday. there is a message on my voice mail. i wrongly assume it is azul, and i leave a message on his voice mail addressing the message left on mine. he sends off a text message saying that he had not called me and to take care. if it isnt him leaving me a message, could it have been the buddhist?
my friend and i head off to luminarias after work for appetizers and drinks before going off to the play. he is unusually quiet but flirtatious when he talks to me. he mentions something about how people should have the courage to do something if they want to do it. i do not know what he is talking about, so i ignore it.
he is braver now, bolder. i wrongly assume that he will finally have the balls to do make a move on me. we drive to the play, and he is giddy. he is giggly and talkative, and i wonder where it is coming from. we explore the amphitheatre, and he had an opportunity to make a move, but he doesnt.
the doors open, and we sit in such close quarters. i sometimes get claustrophobic in such small spaces, but i am okay for 2 1/2 hours.
during the play, there are moments when he could have and i could have, but neither of us didnt. this proves to be a rather wise choice, in hindsight. the play is over, and we go to hop.
i return to the scene of the crime because i miss the buddhist tremendously. my friend and i talk, and i am tired of the dance. we leave after a few hours, and we drive back to my car in silence. at the parking lot, i get out of the car, and i get into mine.
i call him on my way home to tell him that i wish we dont work together. he asks why, and i tell him it is because i think that if we dont work together, we would have a chance to consummate our friendship.
we talk for awhile, and when i get home, i think someone makes a statement that someone is supposed to call the other. i dont remember.
saturday. i wake up incredulous that i spend so much time with someone, and i do not get laid. the best thing to do? go to the gym.
i head off to meet dines for coffee before actually working out. at starfucks, nikolai finds me, makes small talk, and promises to come back after he orders.
dines takes a seat next to me. we talk about nikolai, and after a few moments he appears. he sits between me and dines, and we talk about nothing in particular. curiously, he touches my knees more than once and acts really friendly. huggy, touchy, feely.
a side note: i am not attracted at all to nikolai. dines is the one who is all gaga for him when they first meet. i think part of the reason she joins the gym is because he sells her the package. he asks me out in november the year before last, and i am hesitant. i tell dines then, but she does not believe me until he comes up to us, and asks for my number in front of her. thank goodness that in all the time nik and i have known each other, we have not gone out. we have just remained acquaintances.
he finally leaves, and dines and i talk about lines' husband the asshole. he is just a person no one likes. too bad hes part of their family. what an aberration.
we work out for only 30 minutes because i am so late for my nieces birthday celebration. i get home, and i decide to take a shower.
my phone rings as i am putting on lotion. restricted number, my phone warns. its probably my sister urging me to get the fuck over to her house.
hello? i ask.
hello.
my breath stops for a second. i hear the familiarity in his voice, but i cannot hope.
