I hesitated to write this. I don’t share much about this and I beg my dear readers to understand that I’ve kept this close to me because at first it was nothing to talk about. But then it became dear to me and I held it close to keep it safe. Now? I don’t know. I need to write the words. It’s as safe as it can be, I think.
But enough, Stef, wtf are you talking about?
Real affection. Real caring. A tender heart. A longing for one. That’s what I’m talking about. But let me get there in my own fashion –
My romantic life is becoming the only commonality among a lot of change at the moment. I actively participated in my semi-annual foray into online dating a few months ago. Boring in its predictability, I talked, texted, dated, and made some new friends but no new boyfriends. Nobody I could see myself with at family BBQ’s, or a cold Sunday night with a fire and feel-good movie. There’s either too much machismo, too much personality, too much selfishness, or too little sincerity, too little desire to be a part of something intimate, or too little maturity. Happily stopped after a month and came back to my status quo.
I have been seeing a man off and on for quite some time. But it’s casual and he doesn’t want more. I want more. So we each, I believe, keep ourselves open to a relationship with someone else, but always come back to each other … for comfort? At first it was just fun. Exciting. Intense. Over the past couple years it has grown deeper, stronger, more intense, more comfortable.
He says we aren’t compatible. He says he wants to be alone. He likes his loner lifestyle. I call bullshit. I think he just doesn’t want a relationship with me.
But yet … when we’re together … I feel like the only woman on earth for him. He makes me feel that way with every caress, with every gentle shoulder kiss, and with every heartfelt, “you’re so beautiful,” as he stares into my eyes. I am transfixed.
He’s become a regular sounding board & supporter too – in his purely unobtrusive, under the radar way. One night, laying together talking about our lives in post-coital bliss, I told him I had a big work thing coming where I had to give a presentation. Fast forward 10 days, I get this random text, the day after my presentation, “so how did it go?” He listens when I think he doesn’t. He notes it, all of it, and I think he feels more than he lets on. That’s my hope.
Side note: why is communication so hard for men? Though I’ve dated quite a bit since my husband & I split, there have only been two men who really hit my true love & affection orbit, and neither were/are good communicators. I LOVE/LOVED THEM ANYWAY. One thoroughly broke my heart with nary an explanation (and I miss him, still, because I’m such a sad sack when I finally fall for someone), and now, this affectionate lover continues to crush the air out of me regularly … but then turns around and breathes in so much oxygen with one text, or one visit, that I’m high for days, weeks even. Nothing can touch the magic we weave when we are together.
All in all, I’d rather have my non-communicator, part-time man, my sincere, mature, smart & clever man, my partner in secrecy, my half broken/half oxygen-high roller coaster man, than a full-time player who can’t take the time to learn & capture my heart.
Ideally, though, I want him at my family BBQ. I want him by my side at the company party. I want him on a cold Sunday night with a fire and a feel-good movie (which I think he’d either bitch about or walk away, or both, but I’d like to know for certain). I want a try at something real with him. Maybe it will happen, maybe it won’t.
Oh but my goodness … his kisses could melt the biggest glacier in all the land and I’m nothing but smitten by his touch. You can’t easily walk away from that kind of fire.
I need you now, love
Dearest, give me what I crave
Hold me as I fly
Taken, a haiku
I’m the most single
As single can be, taken
In my heart of hearts
Stumbling in drunken waves down the hall
Flowing with sinewy grace, united
I’m burning, a tinder igniting at your call
Longing, forever, but keeping it hidden
But you could love me, she said
Why would I do that? I’m a loner
Down, down the hall she lead
Come, be with me, sweet lover
Ahhhhh, so raw, so bare … to you all. Please be gentle with me; sharing this is so hard. I am almost 42 and I have to say this feeling is as real now as when I was 17. The excitement, the flush of happiness … when I’m going to see him I’m fairly jumping out of my skin like I’m about to board Space Mountain. But he is my own private, personal roller coaster and I don’t want anyone else on this ride.
Yours in resigned confusion and ecstatic excitement, xoxo