Midweek Fantasizing

Me: I want you to run away with me

Her:  today?

Me: That would be perfect

Her:  well… how would you explain that to everyone?

Me: I’d claim memory loss

Her: lol

Me: But I wouldn’t forget a moment

Her: where shall we go?

Me: Anywhere will work. Where I can show you off. Then be alone with you

Her: well you’ll have to come up with a place. 🙂

Me: I can come up with thousands. Paris? Rome? Buenos Aires? I’m in a dream state this morning. How about Stockholm? I like Stockholm this time of year

Her: anywhere in Europe darling. Really…

Me: Perhaps a bit more exotic then. That suits you. I’m thinking St. Petersburg

Her: I’m looking up flights today to Paris.

Me: Ok. Paris is good. Just before St. Petersburg

Her: There’s an evening flight that is direct. We’d land at mid morning Paris time.

Me: You’ll be amazed at my fluency. I’ll teach you dirty French words. Then we can learn dirty Russian words together in St. Petersburg

Her: Yes. You can teach me so much.

Me: I’d like that

Her: I would too baby

Ok… this is awesome. Looks like there is a standard early evening Air France  flight to Paris that is direct every day.

Me: So Paris it is?

Her: Yes

For the first one.

It just seems pretty easy really.

 

Behind The Mask

It’s not that I believe in fate. And certainly not astrology. But there is most definitely some unnatural force involved in all this. I plainly can’t explain it. Clearly it was through chance I found you. And that you played along with me.

The mystery woman intrigued me. I love a good mystery, don’t you know? I could see you wore a mask to the world. But how much of the covering was disguise? How much protection?

It was getting behind the mask, and discovering what was hidden below the elaborate costume you weaved that had me so engrossed. But what captured your attention? How did I ever manage to be close, let alone pierce your elaborate armor and the multilayered shields you employ to guard your persona? The Nevada odds makers would never have taken that bet.

The ride we’ve had! No amusement park roller coaster, no state fair Ferris wheel, no alpine switchback road can compare to the torrents and droughts and undulations we have tracked through.

Why am I still here? Why are you? What magnetic force seals our inseparable connection so tightly?

And now? Now that I have examined underneath? Now I have seen what is behind the disguise? I have peered through this outfit, more elaborate than any Venice carnival costume. And I see it fits you like a glove. Yes, it hides the blemishes you want no one to know of. You who are the mistress of control. But I know your concealed Ins and Outs. Your inhibitions, your insecurities, your inside secrets, your intricate conspiracies, your indiscretions. Your outstanding talents, out facing demeanor, outside shifts, outsized dreams, outward confidence, outlandish vanity.

Today I know all this. There are no more disguises, no longer hiding who you are. What at first you buried and now we laugh at.

Yet despite all I know, there is still mystery. The mystery of the force that draws our engagement, drives us onward, ever closer, deeper in love, more to a one. The power beyond our own wills.

I do so love a good mystery.

 

Bubblings

Me: I’m not breathing right now.

Her: That’s not good. You need to breathe.

Me: When you float you don’t need to.

You have caused a lot. A lot of thinking. No, more than that. Deep contemplation. A tempest in my brain. Wait … that’s not correct. My mind is placid. Save for the bubbles.

A constant stream.  Small packets of thoughts, ideas, concern, joys. Bubbling to the forefront of my mind. Rising like a sparkling effervescence.

There are two people I try and be open with. Sometimes that means being brutally honest. Which has got me into trouble before, hasn’t it? The two? You. And me.

I think I’m being honest with myself. But I have become so polished at covering my tracks when I need to, maybe I’m subconsciously trying to deceive myself.  I don’t think so. I hope not. That would really piss me off.

I’m convinced I’m fine with his time. Whatever you decide you want. When you decide. And I have no problem with our time, how it will be.

I know you wonder. I’ve wondered, too. Some of that carbonation from my brain. I’m convinced everything will be as close to perfect as is possible given the constraints. For me. For us.

But late yesterday it struck me. I’ve really been focused on me, what’s been going on in my heart … then it finally hit me. This is all about you. You are the one needing answers. You need to understand what this is all about. You’re more confused than I am.

We need more bubbles.

Edging Towards The Precipice

We chat. We talk on the phone. We email.

I think “What if?”

I ponder “Should I?”

I wonder “Will she?”

I ask “Can I?”

I dream “She will!”

I contemplate “What if she doesn’t?”

I trust in “It will be.”

Everything becomes closer. Us. Our souls. The need. The time. The fear. The joy.

The Universe Responds

Perhaps you will remember the recent post  about attending my garden (of women). I did make a valiant effort at pruning, and I thought I’d catch you up on what has transpired.

My first candidate for the shears was Ronnie. I haven’t written very much of her, and with good reason. Frankly, not much has happened. Her inability to arrange suitable get together times has frustrated me for long past the patience of mere mortal males. She has been a major disappointment, and here was the opportune time for me to cut my (time) losses. Then, miracle of miracles, as I slowed the pace of communication and showcased some of my frustrations, she became more responsive. Move her from the definite to go to the maybe can stay pile. Grrrr!

Next for the pruning snips was all communication with Cassandra. Our lives were definitely headed in different directions, and although the fondness and tenderness would always be there (and her for me, I knew), practically speaking there was not going to be any immediate payoff registering on my emotional grid. I had already mentally said goodbye. What remained was just perfunctory closure.

As I transmitted that message to the galaxy, it was received throughout the universe. And  the universe decided to respond. A minor action somewhere distant to her world caused a barely noticeable tremor near to her, which led to slow but steady, like a dripping faucet, deterioration elsewhere. This caused mon beau papillon to flutter her wings anew, to explore, and send her own signals out to the galaxy.

When the waltz began, the music, the touching, the renewed closeness lifted her spirits, which in turn, brightened my days.. As a result she has asked to visit. These days we live far, far apart.

But I believe it will happen.

How A Witch Gets Into Your Head

Early afternoon on a weekday. Texting

Her: Logically, I don’t

Me: Do your famous compartmentalizing and focus on the logical.

I reach for my can of shaving cream. I’m very late today because of a crazy power outage, and my mind has been dawdling at less than half its normal velocity. My phone chirps.

Her: I’m keeping you from shaving.

Me: Are you watching? I’m just getting ready to shave!

Her: Does that weird you out? That I knew?

Me: No. It makes me warm inside.

 

 

As We Begin to Waltz

And so for two days we’ve begun to dance once more.  Not exactly like old times, and the tempo is slow. But we do both know the connection is alive. We know how, but we’re wary.  First stiff then compliant. Eagerness held in check. The steps and the cadence are familiar.

It won’t be a torrid tango of old from the Argentine, and we will never showcase our moves again in prime time. That will remain the property of the archives. But there is little hesitation. Only minor awkwardness.

We’ve begun with the waltz, but it feels comfortable doesn’t it? I have missed holding you like this. An observer would see we move well together. Our movements as one. Your follow to my lead. My pledge to grasp you tight. Not let you fall. Why there might even be a double reverse spin coming up.

Today we saw our reality.  We are joined somehow, beyond all reason, above every contradiction.

No manual can explain the intricacies of connection. No logic will solve the mystery. No book able to chart the magic.

There is no how. There is no why. There is what we are.