The Summer Side of Life

It’s a beautiful summer morning in my village. I’ve been doing lots of contemplating.  Life is brilliant. Love is wonderful. I have choices. I realize my life of golden summers is never ending.

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The Sleeper

Tamara-De-Lempicka-The-Sleeper[1]I’m having doubts these days. Probably not unusual for most people. I’m not saying I rarely have doubts, but in large measure they tend to be in the background once I have decided on my preferred course of action. But today I sit befuddled.

Let me back up a bit. I know this very intellectual woman … I’m going to call her The Sleeper. Attractive, fit, dynamic in every way, a paragon of intelligence and virtue in her field … I know those sound weird together, but in her field they fit. I have known her for 6+ years and we are pretty good friends. She consults me a fair bit on certain subjects and I like giving her my input.  For some inexplicable reason I have never been overly sexually attracted to her. I find myself wondering why.

Which brings me to Bella. Here, too, I am having doubts. I’m not sure I want her anymore. I may. I may not. And I have no idea why the change in my attitude.

Meanwhile, The Sleeper sat opposite me at a group dinner the other evening. Engaging as always, her gaze was largely transfixed on me. I think I positively glowed. She urged me to tell stories as the woman beside her (who strongly resembled Mandy from my past) was also gaga-à-Marty … despite her husband’s being seated directly to my left. Again clouds of doubt were in my mind. I was not “promoting” my stories, I was being urged. Was it really interest, or more simply explained as sexual desire . Let’s face it … I’m actually not that fascinating. It’s not as if I’m Henry Kissinger expounding on Metternich. Now that would be fascinating.

Later in the week The Sleeper was aware I was at a function near her office, and invited me to lunch. She has never done that before. I accepted, of course, and It was lovely. The conversation was easy and relaxed as always.  Friendship? Or more? I’m confused. And I am seeing The Sleeper in a more … cough … nuanced light.

I can now picture her naked, kneeling in front of me.

Perhaps this is progress?

Here’s a bit of an update …

600full-alessandra-ambrosio[1]I haven’t mentioned her in I don’t know how long … the very lovely Bella. Click these links if you’d like a bit of quick history on her.   When we met  …  how she can affect me …  and how even keeled she is … She’s not as a young as the girl in this pic, but every bit as striking in her bikini, with deep brown eyes and slim, firm athletic legs.

She has, of course, been much in the background most of the past year. We are still friends, and have always been in touch regularly.  Although I haven’t been, until recently,  responding to her texts and calls as quickly as I used to, that has all changed.  And she is still as stunning as ever. To see that cute, perfect ass in a pair of tight shorts can be overwhelming. I still remember the first time I saw her 5 years ago. How my head kept swiveling in her direction. How I thought she was oblivious to it. She wasn’t!

But over the past month or two, I think she has sensed a change in me. A growing glow towards her.  We have been getting closer again. Daily good morning and good night texts, and regular contact throughout the day. She has been out of town most of the past month and I do miss her presence. There are times I fancy her very much.

I wonder if this might be headed somewhere?

Hearts Don’t Get Umbrellas

The rain was beyond noisy. I could hear it beating against the windows and thudding heavily on the roof.  There was no lightening, and but a modest wind. No rage to the tempest, no rancor, only an incredible downpour. The sky had decided it was time to release the great weight it had been carrying. As I lay awake in the early morning hours, the sounds from the pounding rainstorm mixed with the reverberations going through my head. I listened to the sounds. Outside and inside my mind.

It was done. A few hours earlier, while texting with Cassandra, I called it … over.

I had learned many things from her. The most important perhaps, how to listen and feel. As a born and bred analyst, this was incredibly hard to do and accept.  I had ditched that concept a long, long time and many relationships ago. I had been like a stroke victim relearning to walk. But now the words came out. I felt it was time.

“You’re a bit lost these days. At least to me.” I typed.

“No I’m not feeling lost. Just very settled. Happily so.” she said.

Us really hasn’t had a future for a long time,” I wrote.

“Not as you want it,” came her reply.

“Nope,” I said. “It’s probably time to push the pause button,” I added.

Though the words came out suddenly, they had been hovering in the background for some time. For months. Our relationship was not headed anywhere. For much too long it had been static.

The closeness connection that had bound us so tightly to one another had been fraying. The great physical distance between us had turned into an evil cancer-like organism, cloning and replicating itself into the attachments that were us, our 2-person unique DNA.

For a year I had tried to give her whatever it was she wanted. Mysteriously, she had known what and how to give me what I needed. But both those things were done. She no longer wants anything from me. She now can’t provide what I need.

“Thank you for letting me go” she wrote.

My heart turned …  and then exited into the pelting rain.