the saddest lines

i love that line from neruda, something like tonight i can write the saddest lines; some friday nights rub up against you that way. one funny thing about moments of clarity with yourself is that you have to then contend with your wide and contradictory set of emotions.

one emotional journey i have been on lately is that of falling out of love. with lots of things. i have a quote on my kitchen cabinet – ‘we love because it is the only true adventure’. nikki giovanni said that. so then falling out of love is sort of these parallel stories unfolding: on one hand, i am falling out of love primarily because i am starting to fall head over heels For Myself in a genuine, non-egotistical, fundamental way that allows no compromises in making sure my needs are met. and understanding that my needs are emotional, mental, spiritual, physical, sometimes irrational, consistently real.

on the other hand, i feel like i am flexing and strengthening a muscle designed to help me resist what i’ve become adept at seeking: adventures that repeatedly prove dangerous. i never had any goal to be Not In Love at 27, or to be honing a skill of protection that could have me not in love for quite some time.

but then, i always planned to be an idealist and a romantic, and that’s also bumping up against the pride of knowing better, the flatlands between movement and cynicism. its good to know how to spend your limited time, its good to be effective, its deep deep inside that the world will get saved…right?

and how does that go with the uprising monster inside me who just wants to sing sing sing sing? songs are pouring out of me, my voice sounds like some grown thing.

i said i was going to blog less – tonight is an exception…

yesterday i saw my heartbreaker showed up at my doorstep for a surprise visit, several hours after i saw my personal trainer. the easy unaffected feeling of our last crossing didn’t come, this time i felt the habit to Love Him start to twitch in me, i had to work hard to stay in a place of being present with him without being overwhelmed by what happens in our combined presence. last night my whole body hurt from dear David at the gym, and my heart hurt a bit too – it too had undergone a lot of squeeze, release, squeeze, flex, open, close, open. close.

a friend called me yesterday, shaky voiced, because she just needed to be held. i gave her uplifting words, but i knew exactly what she meant. we don’t want to cuddle, or be fucked with, or be groped on a dance floor, or relegated to a smile and soft core conversation…we want to be held. we know thirty is coming, we don’t want to get too good at holding ourselves.

but for now, tonight? i just did some pilates and yoga and then a long shower where i used my buffy the backside slayer bar from lush, soft tush! now i am doing a face mask, and then will settle in for some dinner, stargate season 5, in my hot little jungle room under layers of bedclothes. i’m going to hold myself, impeccably, all through the night.

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