The Crystal Ball Broke

 

It starts out whole, crystal clear and flawless.  It begins.  It is honed and shined and unblemished.  You made it and it’s beautiful. And then it comes, the first little crack. You said that and they knew what you were doing.  A small occlusion from the jarring.  But it wasn’t that bad. The sun still glints the same way.  The ribbon of refracted light is still perfect.

crack.

crick.

crack.

broken glass

mgtvwsls.files.wordpress.com

And the light bends.  The rays just don’t fall the same.  You’re losing colors..violet.. blue.. fading in your rakishly high tales.  It’s still shiny and see through.  It’s still beautiful.  It’s still a treasure.  The weight and heft are left.  The shape is still smooth.  You can see the ribbon in there but we all think it’s okay.  It’s just the tiniest bit of damage.  And you’re sorry.  That was a one time thing, right?  We were just scared or sorry or confused or not ready.  We were thoughtless.

snap.

crack.

The little bitty cracks add up though.  Each one is like a teeny ball peen hammer.. ting… ting…

It’s a small deep crevice there in the middle.  The rainbow leaves.  But it’s still bright.  It’s still light.  It slides and tumbles in your hand. We whistle in our fake nonchalance.  It’s fine.  It’s fine.  Still so smooth.  But is that a rift?

CRACK!

snip.

tinkle.

The rift has reached the edge and you can feel the craze.  Your fingers worry it like a loose tooth.  They run over it and over it but they can’t make it smooth.  It’s there.  And you’re losing light.  It’s getting trapped in there, bouncing around off of the things you broke, the jagged edges in there.  You tell another one.  It’s easier now and though the consequences are more dire, you’re less concerned.  Do you not see it?  Or do you just care less?

CRACK….. snap… tinkle.

A sliver is shaved off and falls.  The rift has veins in several directions now, so much closer to the surface, and the ragged creviced edge has its own facets.  Do you not know how to stop it?  Do you not see it?  A whole side is gray and lifeless, unreachable.  The light that enters mostly dies.  And it feels inevitable, doesn’t it?  You say another one, another.  You can’t even smile while you do it anymore, can you?  Do you shrug?  Do you sting?  Is it like you can’t help yourself? Or are you numb?

We point our palms at the ground and our walk works to pulverize the shards.

 

Bookends

I started out this morning happy and languid and in love.  I snuggled further into his arms and kissed his neck and his chest and ran my hands on his skin, earning the soft groan I love.  He was sleepy and I wasn’t awake yet either, and he was so warm and snuggly.  I ran my hands over his back, his bottom, his legs, petting his soft skin.  I touched him lightly and massaged him and he kissed me and pulled me tighter to him, petted my back, dozed.  After a long time petting we checked the clock.

Mmm.. there is time for eggs, love.  Or there is time for.. hmmmm.  I ran my hands over his naked body and cocked my pelvis against him.  He laughed with a little delight and pretended to think about it as I rolled him to his back and slid down his body.  We took our time.

Then tonight I met a man I’d met on OK Cupid.  He was pretty cute, but I’d like our conversation more and was happy that seemed the same in person.   Continue reading

A Million Years Ago

shrek far far away

From Shrek- The Far Far Away Sign

A million years ago….

  1. I kissed you in the vacant lot and ran home breathless.
  2. I broke your heart because I wasn’t ready.
  3. I thought this was what relationships were and I didn’t know this was rare and special.  We danced all night.  We made love and when I called it that I didn’t giggle.  We said shit like “soulmates” and “forever” and I didn’t doubt for a second they were real.  Nobody had ever loved like we loved.  We sang songs to each other.  We took baths together and sat there until we were pruny.  You fucked her.  And you lied.  I felt worse about the lie because it meant we weren’t what I thought we were.  I walked away hurt and insecure.  I spent a decade feeling the image of you in an Indian blanket in our cold apartment, silent, as I dropped the key into your lap.
  4. I got her note. She was gone.  She needed to be with him.  She had a family back home. Wouldn’t I please understand?
  5. I fucked him at some party, the entire time wondering if the pool table took quarters… “mmmmhmm.. yes.. oh baby”.. does that pool table take quarters?  What is the mechanism to drop the balls if it doesn’t take quarters?
  6. I wondered if she’d ever love me back.
  7. I wanted to break it off but his dad had just died.  So I cheated. A lot. I felt more and more sick and when I broke up with him I thought I was doing him a favor.
  8. I couldn’t sleep with him because it would have been too real.
  9. She played with me next to my bed and I thought she liked me, but we never talked again.
  10. I liked him and he liked her and she liked someone else.
  11. He was a lot worse than I thought.  He was a lot worse.  He left a scar on my back from the event that changed my life.  He committed suicide years later, after hurting a lot more girls, and eventually going to prison.  He got out and killed himself.  I felt relieved that he wouldn’t hurt more girls and ashamed I’d been silent and hurt those girls.
  12. I waited a long time to touch him because I wanted to do things differently and when I finally touched him it just didn’t work and we couldn’t make it work so I broke his heart.
  13. He was my friend.  He was deeply honest and really flawed and fucked like a demon.  We talked about EVERYTHING with utter and complete honesty that wasn’t brutal because we bore no brutality.  It was the most comfortable I’d ever been with my body in his pure love of it.  You’re supposed to learn to love your body but I loved mine because he did.  We kept the lines really straight and loved each other for years, around and in between all the others, coming home.  We’ll never be lovers again, but I still consider him a friend.
  14. He left me for groupies and I met the women he’d cheated on me with when her boyfriend was cheating with me and I didn’t know it.  She and I were great friends for years.
  15. I loved him for his letters and got swept up in them and the things he created in them.  It was too late when I’d realized my mistake and I spent a long time trying to stick to my mistake.  When I could no longer be faithful and couldn’t be unfaithful, I left.  I like seeing his happy pics on Facebook.
  16. I never thought it would happen again, but it did.  I met him at Starbucks.  We shared a humor and a passion and loved each other through a million challenges and rewards.  We wrote love poems and songs and gave each other gifts of 100 kisses on post-its and notes hidden in lunches and suitcases and pockets.  For years I knew great love and great passion.  He was my best friend and I was his.  And we grew and grew and grew.  I wish I made him dinner more.  I’ve only learned that these past few years and I wish I’d learned it with him.  Some of the greatest and the worst days of my life were spent with him, and the love we had carried us through them.  With the end I wondered if I’d imagined it, but my box of letters tells me I didn’t. The passion never died until finally, that last year it did.  He told me she was too much and there was nothing left.  He wrote a poem based on a speaker we’d heard together when we were first dating, and redid it at times over the years to delight me. He used it again with the next women, which did not delight me. I don’t understand what happened really.  I make up theories and live with them and discard them because I’ll never know why.  I’m trying to accept that but it sits uneasily without ever having had my closure.  I read the things he said, to me, and later to others, the lies. He was intentionally cruel and admitted it.  And I’ll never understand.  That is not the man I loved. He replaced me and then replaced her.  He lied a lot to them too, and I’ll never understand it.  This is not the man I loved.  He is not the person I loved for so long and so well.
  17. In the midst of all of that I fell for him.  He seemed sweet and honest and clear, a relief in troubled times.  I loved his dazzling mind and the force of his love.  I fell hard and had a hard time letting go when the mask fell.  But I did.
  18. I fell for him so slowly and so well, my love sneaking in on quiet cat feet.  It took a long long time to know him and I’ll always be learning.  His kisses stayed dizzying, and his arms became home.  I love our adventures and our quiet nights and that we can get lost in each other doing absolutely nothing.  And then he told her he’d leave me if she asked him to.  I’m still not totally sure why it changed either, but suddenly all the things we were talking about for our future were different.  All of the little plans we were playing with were off the table.  He didn’t want what he said he wanted anymore.  Or he wanted it differently.  I wondered if I got this love wrong, if it wasn’t what it seemed.  I didn’t get it wrong.  It’s just complicated to live with all of our commitments and honor and complexities of life and history and it’s hard to navigate for women with a past.  There are a lot of moving parts.  It’s beautiful and hard sometimes, but he’s worth it.  Eventually it came that he would not trade me for the wishes of anyone on Earth, and I know it in my marrow.  He’s part of the family I’m making.  I sometimes miss the surety of when I was a girl, or think maybe other ways might be easier.  But then reality reminds me that relationships are always complicated.  Grown up love is complex and beautiful and long-awaited and deep… if you’re lucky.

I’m lucky.

shrek and fiona in love

Shrek and Fiona ride off into the sunset. From the movie Shrek and found at http://basementrejects.com/

 

Dating isn't for Sissies..

As Quinky Girl and I begin to date anew, and as I read posts on the board for people dating on OKC, I find again that dating isn’t for sissies.

from onlinedatingmagazine.com

from onlinedatingmagazine.com

Guys talk about sending out messages by the boat-full and hearing silence.  Women are beaten by messages demanding things, insulting, cat-fishing, and basically just yelling “LOOK AT MY DICK!  LET ME PUT IT PLACES!!!”

Everyone is asking, “Does it really have to be this hard?”.  I see that time and again in the craigslist postings and the Adult Friend Finder profiles and the OKC profiles and messages.  Women make laundry lists of rules trying to weed out the obnoxious shit we get and men sound a little panicked that nobody seems to want to engage them, much less ride them.

Then you meet someone interesting.

Continue reading