Shifting moods, Rearranging wants, I just dont get it  

herotherside 41F
395 posts
5/16/2006 8:13 pm
Shifting moods, Rearranging wants, I just dont get it

In a world filled with so much company, how does one get to be so lonely? How does one sink so low? How does one feel so alone and no one knows, and no one knows why? How does one feel so cold underneath the Arizona sun. How does one feel the wrath of the Santa Ana winds inside themselves?

Why does the sound of a violin make me cry? Why does a guitar solo make me sad. Why do I feel the words to every song I hear so deep within me? Why does the dark scare me, yet I fear stepping out into the sunlight, and then I wonder at night why it has left me? Why does every day feel so long, every night even longer? Why the next day do I wonder where yesterday went? Why do I yearn for love, yet I do not know how to accept it when it is given to me.

I never could understand how anyone could fall in love with me. I never could believe I could be loved. I laughed at each fool along the way. I figured it won't take them long to figure out they were mistaken. I'm just not the type one should love, so I never got it. How could you love me when I won't allow you to know me? Sure, I put on a smile for you when you expect one. You may know the details of my day. You might even know I'll take cashews over almonds, Bartlett over Asian pears, and any damn toilet paper out there over Charmin. I may even reveal some of my feelings here and there. But I'll never let you in. I'll never allow you to know me inside out, outside in.

I still don't know why I did what I did today. I don't know why or what it was I needed to feel. I didn't know what I was looking for or why I felt the urge to look. What had I lost or misplaced that would be of use to me now. But I did it any way. As I took the top off of that jewelery box, I wondered if I could handle remembering all I had forgotten. Could I handle releasing all the emotions I packed into that oval wood box so long ago? I knew I could cover it back up before looking in and walk away. I told myself to go. No, you don't need to do this to yourself. Why go back. Put it back down on the table and walk away. But I didn't listen to myself. I knew I wouldn't. So, I sat down on the edge of the bed and and looked down at the small wooden puzzle box in my hand. As if the box had known just what I was looking for, there they all were, layered one on top the other. Two promise rings, an engagement ring, and a wedding band. I took my time and held each one as I thought about the person behind it. I thought about four of the many people I walked out on. Four people who loved me, only one I loved in return, the only one of these four you will hear about later.

I fell in love for the first time when I was 17. It was with a guy I grew up with. We used to skate in what was the old Paramount parking lot. We used to play stick ball together, cops and robbers. It took me a whole life time to fall in love with him. We were going to get married in August of 1995, but I gained weight. I knew he was seeing someone else. I saw how, here, the man I was going to marry, who was about 120lbs larger than me, grew more and more ashamed to take me out in public because I was fat. I was a size 14 then. About a month before we were to marry, I decided that even if he lost 120lbs and could fit my pants, he still wasn't getting in them again. A few weeks later, he called me to tell me that he just found out his girlfriend was pregnant. Well, darn, does that mean she is going to get fat? It took seven years for me to stop loving him. Seven years. I pawned the wedding rings for a necklace my brother wanted.

Shortly before those seven years were up, I met the girl I would end up falling in love with. She, at the time, was with another woman she had been dating for eight years. But here I came. Oh, the Karma that would come from loving her. She suddenly started to go back to work from her lunch break with my lipstick on her lips. I no longer needed makeup for blush to appear on my cheeks. We lived in that newly built house that should have been “theirs” and I left her too soon for it to even feel like “ours.” I stayed just shy of two years because I didn't believe she could love me. On our first Christmas day, I ended up in the emergency room. The next night I was back again because the bulge and the pain almost tripled in size over night. The next morning, I woke up covered in blood and found myself in a different hospital's emergency room. They operated right away and wondered why it wasn't done on the first trip. Hell, I dunno. They “informed” me, that had I of waited until she got home from work, like I had originally planned on since I was not in driving condition, to take me, instead of calling my aunt,like I did, the only need for an operation would have been an autopsy. That surgery, along with all the medications, set off one thing after another. I felt useless to her. I felt like a burden. One hospital trip after the other, bill after bill. I stopped going out with her. Holding her hurt my body so badly, but I sure did try to keep her in my arms at night. Her helping me when I didn't ask began to make me feel inferior. When I wasn't feeling like a toddler she was looking after, I felt broken. Though I miss her so much still, I'm glad I left when I did, otherwise she would have spent Christmas two years later in the hospital once again for another surgery. That Chevron ring felt like it could have burned a whole in my hand so I sat it back in the box.

One year and two days after our breakup, I was engaged in my usual daily routine. I was down at the bar drinking my hurt deeper into me. I got a call from a friend to go to a party and eventually agreed to go. She said either I could come down and meet her at her place or she would come down to mine and drag me out the door. So, I sat on that bar stool for another hour, drove home, shit, showered, and shaved, and headed to her place. That night I met the man the would soon rid me of my drinking problem. He would also come to teach me a lesson I never knew I needed to learn. I always knew love didn't see color or race. I knew love did not see gender . I just never knew I stopped applying that lesson to me. I always knew I wanted to be with a woman. I thought my place was with a woman. I kept wondering when that second special woman will walk into my life so I could grab hold and keep a firm grasp this time around. Sure, I had been with a few other since her but nothing I could keep. I was too busy calling them the wrong name. Bad habit of mine. I never expected to fall in love with a man. When I realized it was happening, I shrugged it off. That's absurd. Maybe I had just a few drinks too many and that's why I'm feeling this “love” bullshit. Besides, it took me seven years to fall in love the second time. I still have many years ahead of me before this happens again, if I ever let it happen at all. Going on three years soon, I have no excuses for the feelings. I love him. I do love him. He had me the last surgery and I won't take him through another.

Sitting here besides me last night, I wanted him so bad. I wanted to reach over and put my hands on his body. But I didn't. I couldn't. He wouldn't be able to give me all that I wanted. In touching him, I wanted to feel the want of that man that loves me, the same one I would turn my back on every time I felt his want. And I wanted to feel the soft touch of that strangers hands, just the same as I have felt them a couple of times before. I also wanted to feel my love returned. And I wanted to feel it all from him. All at once. All, right now. I've felt all of these things from him time and time again, but knew I could not have it all, not the way I wanted. Something will always be missing. Some how, along the way, I think the love gods misunderstood me when requested my love returned. I wasn't clear enough, I guess. I meant, I wanted his love in return, not mine postmarked and stamped undeliverable, return to sender. Something will always be missing.

Once we got into bed, and I felt his chest against my cheek, his arm around me, his breath trickling down my forehead, I forgot what it was I had wanted just a while before. He and what he could offer became my want. He always does. For him, I took my armor off. For him, I sent the guards home for the night. I gave him what he had long wanted from me. I let go for him so he can feel me cum over and over. I usually won't let my self cum once. It always bothered him that I would not release myself. Usually, if I do, it is because I laid my shield and sword down to relax a bit, got caught off guard, and failed to protect my entities. All I can do is surrender at that point. It was so much fun to do for him, too see the surprised look on his face each time, and to know I pleased him by giving him what he wanted. I knew I did good when I got him to play into a fantasy of mine which involves a role he never felt too comfortable taking on. When we were done playing, and he was asleep, I watched him while caressing him, just as I usually do all night long, only this time, it wasn't too long before I fell asleep. And there I was. I was in the arms of a man I love. A man I cannot share all my feeling with too often. A man that is not mine.



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