in every corner an enemy

Today, at 1:28 PM, The Land put me in my place.

We had just entered my car and were getting ready to go, when she said to The Sea, "Don't go there," referring to the video game The Sea was playing on a Nintendo DS. i saw the opportunity, and said in an exaggerated voice, "Don't even go THERE!"

The Land casually says (wait for it, this is hilarious):

"You're not funny Daddy. Fortunato (ExA's next one) is funnier than you."

Isn't that cute? Wait til i tell my counselor so she can convince me further that this will get better.

wither

i have not written about Noire much, although we've been seeing each other seriously for over a month. i hadn't put too much thought into it as i thought our hook up would serve as an end as well as a beginning. Now that it has become more, i am not sure i want to put much into it because of fears that it will travel the same path: sexual knowledge, friendship, romance, and then hit a wall. Then apathy.

While i do not feel as though i am in love with her, at times i feel i may be able to. That in itself is a moot point because she is 31 years old and wants to be married and have a family and i am all set with those.

Our discussions are engaging, mostly about film, a common love, but not like those i have with Seraph; our sex is incredible, even more so than with KT, but that is just the universe continuing to mock me for wanting out of my marriage for something as trivial as sex.

She stays over frequently, we fall into comfortable patterns of eating dinner, watching television, going to bed.... it's too easy.

And not who i want to be doing it with.

dewey decimeled

For those of you that blog using Blogger, you are familiar with the button up top that says "Next Blog." Occasionally i will hit it just to browse what others are writing about, hoping there is another one as lame as mine. In the past, various blogs have come up, about crafting, work, poetry and some in languages i cannot even begin to know.

Tonight when i hit the button, a family's blog came up. Cute, but i move on. Then another family, and another family, and another family.... and all of them have babies or toddlers and are crammed with photos of them. It can't be shear chance that these are coming up, so i have decided that Google has categorized my blog as a family blog and has refined the next blog button to find blogs similar to what they have labeled mine.


i may be wrong, but after twenty "Next Blog" hits, i have yet to come up with something that doesn't read like an annual Christmas letter to the relatives. When i come up with a blog about leather and Vaseline, i'll be proven wrong.

talking with angels

Seraph came over last night before heading out with friends. She had asked earlier in the week if we could "philosophize" soon; her phrasing is something i adore about her.


As she talked, i found myself drawn to her again, as i had in glimpses before. Her beauty flowed from her hair, pulled back from her face, from her eyes sleepily laid upon her face, from her lithe, quiet body. She finds herself not feminine at all, and while i can see what she means by her athletic, plain appearance, there are times when femininity defines her completely.

When she left, i wanted to kiss her, but knew better. If i can only leave her untainted.

before i draw nearer to that stone to which you point

i know that it is a theme i have spoken tiresomely here, but the heavy cloak of dreams descended upon me again last night.

As is always the case, the images are simple and mundane: me in ExA's "basement" doing some task for her, ExA walking the Land and the Sea to school. As is always the case, their hangover is complex and painful....i awoke with the feeling of having just separated from ExA.

i was awakened by the little feet of the Land and Sea coming into my room, leaping into my bed, our morning ritual. Not satisfied with the message of sadness given to me during the night, the universe then put a fine point on it: as the Sea sat in my bed, she started to call me by ExA's current boyfriend's name. She laughed it off, but i knew.

IT is inevitable, i have known it all this time that it is but have been influenced by charlatans who want to believe that passion can be dulled, that time wears away the sharp edges of loss. i know what i am supposed to do.. it will wait until February.

While at a playground in Florida, i was pushing my grand-niece (!!) on a swing and a young girl, about 9 years old, was sitting on a nearby swing. She was wearing a skirt and shirt that hinted at adulthood and boots, an outfit that looked out of place on a playground. She started talking with me as though i had been part of the conversation for years- a southern thing? As i listened to her, i realized she was wearing heavy eye makeup. Her topics were general 9 year old stuff, but then she went into this:

"My momma said we're gonna when she finds a good man, but good men are hard to find. She can't find a good man, she tries, but there ain't none out there."

It was both amusing and disturbing at the same time.

majik kingdom

Not posting regularly is death for a blog, but i have been too busy. Not that i don't get that nagging feeling about having to post, but it's not unlike the nagging guilt i had (have?) because of growing up Catholic.

The Land & the Sea and I went to Disneyworld last week. i had been planning the trip for months, and once we were on the plane, i had sudden concern that it was a bad idea going with one adult. i fear i am not as patient as i should be, and know that a trip like this demands greater patience than usual. Within a day, my fears were alleviated- it was better than i could have planned. We had moments of stress, to be expected given the long days walking around parks and eating junk food, but overall it was fun, and magical, to use a cliche. Even the Land, usually stoic, skipped as we walked through the parks and smiled when encountering the characters.

We also visited my brother and sister-in-law. Seeing them, especially my sister-in- law, creates anxiety in me because of a conflict we had years ago over something i said. She is very sweet, and i am sure she holds no grudge, but it still causes me to be very cautious about what i say. In spite of that, it went well and i am glad that the Land & Sea were able to see and be seen by them.

The Land & the Sea left them with this: they were commenting to my brother and sister-in-law as we were leaving that they missed their home. My sister-in-law then asked if they liked my house, and the Land replied, "I meant our REAL home."

That stayed with me for a few hours...not sure i am fully over it.

hollow eve

Tonight is the first Halloween that i will not see the land and the sea in their costumes. Last year i saw them briefly, accompanied them along with ExA to a few houses. i didn't bother this year, as ExA's next one is going along, and i don't want to be in the way.

"You have to stop seeing it as they wouldn't miss you" my counselor says. Rather, i have to fabricate the depth of their connection to me so i don't reach the obvious conclusion.

These moments are like blood trickling out of the body that was my life.

love letter

Too much to talk about, all of it fairly worthless, redundant adolescent bullshit.

i am so far removed from myself i cannot tell when and if i am in love when it presents itself.

Seraph is making herself more clear, going out of her way to spend time with me. It is with her that i feel most comfortable, somehow beautiful. Her kisses and touches are sincere, and yet there is something in the way.

Noire is in the way- she is sweet, intelligent and loves to fuck, but i need something behind all of it.

i still think about Cath, what may have happened had she not been married. We spoke again briefly- i was seeking penance, and she wouldn't grant it. She assured me that someone who changed their mind so quickly about his love must have been insincere from the beginning.

Was i? Am i?



i have found that KT is pregnant- i would comment further, but she reads this blog regularly and therefore i cannot write honestly.

That'll Learn Ya

A local band from the late 80's and early 90's is doing a reunion show around Thanksgiving. In preparation, they did a show last Saturday.

This, in addition to reunion shows by another local band, have been guilty pleasures for me- hearing those songs played live again, seeing people i haven't seen in almost 20 years.

i went with ExA's best friend... it's been odd keeping friendship with her friends, and i have not been actively doing so. But I always liked this friend and her husband and i have become good friends. And she enjoys the scene like i do, so off we went.

What a great night- they played fantastically. It could have been 1990, save our dull eyes and missing hair.

leaving churches

The date with the the femme fatale was fun. We ate sushi, talked for hours and then saw Capitalism: A Love Story... not exactly a date film, but enjoyable nonetheless. She talked- A LOT- and while it was entertaining i had flashbacks of ExA, who talked incessantly on our first few dates, which at first was endearing but in hindsight i should have seen as a red flag.

We did not end up in bed, though, which i thought was imminent given our first encounter, but sweetly said goodnight and said we'd do it again.

Cath had texted me that night, and when i told her i'd be unavailable to text a lot that night, she texted back, "R U going on a date ;)". i texted back a lie and said i was going out with friends. Her response: "Whew!" This weighed on me so heavily that i knew i had to tell her.

We talked this afternoon, and i confessed that i lied to her. She was as upset as i expected and i realized further just how far i had let this go . i told her that the more intense she got the less so i did, i did not come right out and say that my expressions of love lately were insincere. This prompted the conversation about what our last time together was (this past Tuesday) and where i was.

Where i was was not very close to where she was.

i always want the other person feel better, but as my dear friend K said, by checking in with her will give her false hope. So i acknowledged that we can no longer be together in any way, and i asked if we could talk occasionally she replied, what's the use? When i apologized, she said, "You don't owe me anything." i have said both of these to ExA, and if they affected her the way i felt after Cath said them, then i am glad i said them. Even as i end another relationship started out of... insincerity? poor judgment?... i am still thinking of ExA, and am ashamed.

thine own self

The Raven said to the Porcupine, when asked if he should fake happiness, that it doesn't start with sincerity.

With what then, does it start?

My initial love and profound caring for Cath has dwindled, is slowly leaving me like an illness. While i care for her, it is not the love i felt in DC and the week after. i was sure it was true with Cath, especially in contrast to KT, and with this transition i now scrutinize every relationship have ever had: did i love Esme? Did i love ExA?

It may be her tendency to text me incessantly. She has a level of neediness that wasn't apparent at first. Or, i am so emotionally fucked up that i don't want those who are needy (Daisy, Cath) or those who are self centered (ExA), or there is a middle ground that i have yet to encounter.

The femme fatale and i have a date tomorrow night. She made a comment about how we are doing it backwards, referring to the tryst we had almost two weeks ago. i fear that i will be getting myself into another relationship, when all i want to do is fuck her.

suzie Q

Today was a beautiful day here in Rhode Island.

Amidst that beautiful day, a great woman lay dying after battling cancer for over two years.

We worked together, but 12 years ago I realized we were more than co-workers, that i enjoyed her as a friend. i helped her move from a home in Jamestown to an apartment on Hope Street, then into a house with her then partner. i took care of her dogs and cat when they traveled to her house in upstate New York. When she split with her partner, and found another, she returned to Jamestown to live.

It was there that i saw her today, along with so many others who love her, as she lay in a bed, dying. After a year of good health, she took a turn for the worst... i am not sure there is anything more vindictive than cancer.

Of course, she was not there, it was not the woman who i knew over the years, the woman who, when i told her that i didn't wear a helmet while biking because it makes me look stupid, replied by saying: "Think of how stupid you'll look with a tube coming out of your trachea after you have a crash." i wore the helmet.

She taught me about a type of lesbian i had never heard of: Diesel Dykes.

She created a whole story around me working at a local department store, in the tire section, after seeing me retrieve my mail one day at an apartment i had that was behind one of the stores.

Most of all, she taught me about the most practical approach to supporting people with developmental disabilities: keep it simple. Honor what communication they choose to use, and build support around it.

Sleep peacefully, Susan. I'll see you on the other side.

spires

i christened her Cath, for cathedral, because of her eyes.

Cath and i have seen each other four times since returning from DC: three times in our cars, once at my home where we spent the entire day talking, touching and making love. i have fallen in love with her, and am somewhat angered, surprised by the fact that i can love again, but in a pleasantly mocking way. i check in with myself after telling her how much she means to me, how much i love her, and expect the backlash that occurred with KT (and others), the one where i realized i had made up affection for the other person, affection that i did not truly feel.

Each check in reveals sincerity; what do i do with this? It sucks because she is married and really doesn't want to change the life her kids have. At times i feel if left to her own devices, she will leave her marriage, and yet, that isn't a comforting thought. i do not want to be seen in the same way i see KT, as the ruination of something that seemed useless (my marriage) but in reality was just hibernating (the love). Even if Cath does not end up seeing me that way, she will go through so much pain that i am not sure a relationship can be built.

Mixed in this recipe is the maudlin encounters i have with ExA each Saturday when The Sea plays soccer. Her next one is there, and that concept of Bizzaro World weighs heavily in me. And she will still talk with me about aspects of her life as if we were married, whether it be her being contacted by her bio father's son or the fact that her back troubles are finally being diagnosed. i find it more Bizzaro that she confides these things to me, and have all i can do not to bluntly tell her that i do not need to fulfill that role anymore, that she relinquished me.

In the category of Things I Am Not proud Of, last night I spent time with my dear friend Metaphorman, and we were occasionally accompanied at times by his roommate and a friend of hers i have known peripherally, an attractive 30 year old who works for the company we do. We ended the night drinking at his house, until his roommate retired to bed and i said good night and left for home.

i was home ten minutes before he called me and told me to text the roommate's friend, that i was assured she'd fuck me. After being assured that he was not setting me up, i humored him, took her number and left it alone. He calls back five minutes later:

Metaphorman: I am telling you, she.will.fuck.you.

me: I don't know, i am really in love with Cath,....

Metaphorman: And she's at home, with her husband, probably fucking him, so why can't you?

Hard logic to refute.

i text her, innocuously ask if she is still at Metaphorman's. She replies that she is and that i should come back. i text, "okay..." and she replies, "Sounds good."

i am excited, hesitant and jaded, but i redress, hop in my car and return. Metaphorman is glad to see me, smiles as he shuts off all of the lights in his downstairs and indicates that she is in the guest bedroom. The bedroom is dark, and she's sleeping peacefully, and for a moment i debate just leaving.

i am 42 years old- this never happened to me in high school, college, ever. And while part of me wonders if i am pursuing this to make up for what my past lacked, it isn't that, it's the fact that i love a woman's taste, the heat of their skin, the delicateness of their lips, the whole symphony of pleasure that is sex, witnessing it first hand, seeing how far.

i slide into the bed, hoping that she will not awaken, and i will just watch her sleep, but in a few seconds she wakes, giggles about falling asleep and then starts kissing me. Immediately, the kissing is not what i enjoy- it's quick, sloppy and too much tongue; i take part like it will save my life. She is wearing her dress but without underwear, we caress, writhe, dance. Everything we do is the opposite of what i have found in Cath, and i remind myself that what this is has nothing to do with emotion, love, spirit.... i now know, for sure, after my year of sex with KT and a few other encounters the difference between sex and making love. i lie to myself that i do not enjoy sex without some sort of spiritual connection.

i cannot rise to the occasion, but she is understanding and allows me to explore her with my hands and tongue, enjoying it immensely. Then we talk about movies for an hour until i locate my clothing, dress and leave.

The town is dark and silent save the occasional car as i drive up route 1 to my home. Conflict rises in me, but is dismissed... it is what it is.

And i long for the love i had with ExA, when i believed in something special.

fantasy is life is fantasy

Life keeps unfolding for me, in ways that vacillate between disturbing and triumphant.

Six years ago, at a dinner with RI conference attendees in DC, i "connected" (don't care for that characterization) with a woman who i had known only peripherally. i was drawn to her because she is funny, lively, attractive, sunny, and reminded me a little of Daisy. We work in the same field, but at different companies.

The night was so special to me, i wrote a poem to remember it, and to work out why i felt so drawn to her. The subject of that poem came up last December and she was insistent that i send it to her, against my better judgment.

She replied via facebook, very superficially, and i thought no more about it. Before the DC trip this year, she sent me a message saying that our hotel had a rooftop bar and that maybe we could get a drink and she would explain her "oddly formal response" to my poem.

i didn't pursue her suggestion; in fact, since recognizing my attraction to her, i have kept myself in check. But two nights ago, she told me that she didn't know what the poem meant in terms of our relationship. i told her it didn't necessarily mean anything, that i just wrote it because i felt moved to capture our connection.

i had no idea as to where this would go, but as it became clear i embraced it fully. We were together until the early hours of the morning- i have survived the last two days on eight hours of sleep and the bliss that is born out of falling for someone.

Someone who is married.

i am dwelling on whether or not i am a bad person, for being with a married woman (again) an for being unfaithful to Seraph. Seraph has made it clear that she does not want a serious relationship, that we are not committed to anything, but regardless of what is logical, my heart doesn't feel any better.

And what started in DC didn't stay there- it followed me to back home because she is the first in two years who has shown me that ExA isn't an end.

lazurus? phoenix?

Counseling is focused around my hatred for ExA; the most progress i've made is bringing it down to a strong dislike. Now it's time to explore why i can't move on.

Most of the time i realize it's because of what i did with KT, how disrespectful it was to ExA, but i can't shake knowing that it was done not because i wasn't in love with ExA, but because she wasn't with me.

And how pointless all of this is, wondering what ExA thinks, keeping flowers at a grave no one else tends.

i am reading a book suggested by my counselor called "A Spiritual Divorce." Some of it is a little New Agey for me, but some of it is very insightful. Last night i read the section where you do an exercise of writing down the relationship from the perspective of your ex.

i will try it, but am very afraid to, because it will humanize her and that's the last thing i want is to empathize with her.

There are lights, small ones that become larger.

After months of dating, i am beginning to feel more affection for Seraph than i thought i would. The other night, we ended our date as we usually do, talking and kissing for hours. This time, touches and kisses were more intense, like communication. She held my hand and stroked it, and i felt as if i would cry.

i still hate it when someone is so tender to this ugliness that is me.

Brooce

Some musicians...okay, ROCK STAHS.... manage to keep it no matter how old they get. One of the few is Bruce Springsteen.

While i am not a rabid fan of his, i am a fan. i realized this in 1985 while driving down Route 1A to Jamestown to pick up Esme. The local "alternative" station, WBRU, was truly anti-play list- they would play Cream and then Lords of the New Church, The Who then Dead Kennedys.... it was unpredictable, and a hell of a lot of fun. Years later they purchased the million dollar "cutting edge" format and that was that.

That night, they played "Jungleland", and when i heard the opening piano i had to pull my car over. Sure, i had heard "Born to Run." My eighth grade year was filled with "The River," and most of my high school experience was sound tracked by "Born in the USA," which i hated. But "Jungleland" showed me why he was such a phenomena in 1974. i bought "Born to Run" a couple of days later.

Tonight, VH-1 Classic is playing live clips of artists who have played Hyde Park. Springsteen and the E Street Band played "London Calling."

Just when i thought he couldn't get any cooler.

slow death

This morning I was lucky enough to hear about the Land's birthday party, complete with stories about ExA's boyfriend, who is entertaining and wonderful. And he makes her mix CDs with songs i used to sing to her as a child.

It's as though no one notices the absence- makes sense in ExA's case whose mother ran through a succession of men in her childhood so to her it is the norm- but the level of normalcy around those in the periphery is boggling.

I am beginning to realize that not seeing them may be best for all.

shedding

It's not sadness, emptiness, worthlessness, it's waiting. Waiting around for someone or something to make your heart beat again.

My second birth was at 18 years old, and i regret not one part of it. Esme, my savior, has my undying devotion because of five years of living off her love, her caring.

i am not sure i can be born again. At this point, i wish i could feel as though i want to be.

beautiful albatross

It gets harder and harder to remain in contact with the Land and The Sea, although i am not so dumb as to realize the pain of not seeing them would be worse.

But i would get used to not seeing them. i have no reason to not believe this, as i am assured by those around me i will get used to losing the love of my life, get used to having this scar of an affair forever on my soul.

And right now all i want to do is get away from this pain. It goes underground then comes back stronger: last night in a dream where ExA and i reunite (typical non linear images, but that was the idea... i remember the dream me thinking about how this would affect my relationship with Seraph).

And again this morning.

While driving them to ExA's, i asked the Land if she would call me Saturday afternoon and tell me about her birthday party, which I will not be attending. She replied that they would probably be too busy to call me, that her step sister would be there and spending the night. Then she went into great detail about the wonderful weekend she will have with her step sister.

Immediately, i go to the place i find most comforting. Suicide is selfish and short sighted.

And freeing.

the hardest stars

Seraph and I traversed the rocky path leading to Rome Point. Down the beach to the bend at Rome Bay, we settle on some rocks. i unload cheese, wine, bread and grapes, unsure if she will eat any.

Our time is always marked by this pattern: find an activity, talk about things that would bore some, and then, maybe, kiss. i had been thinking all day that i would end the date telling her i am only interested in being friends.

Instead i tell her about the attempt. i tell her because i fear i come off negative, and want her to understand what feeds it. i am not sure it was a good idea, but i don't regret it. i ask again about how she gets her positivism, and the answer always assures me in it's simplicity.

After an hour, we pack up and walk back down the beach for the path. Entering the first part of the path, a circle opens making a natural planetarium- the stars, which had been slowly taking us in back on the rocks, now spill out in an ocean. Sensing that she does not want to leave, i suggest we spread the blanket on the ground and watch the stars. It is still hard to tell if you are being straightforward with me when i ask "Do you want to...?"

We spend three hours on the ground, looking for stars hardest to see, seeing five shooting stars and finally kiss. i don't remember why i want to become just friends.

scythe

A classmate of my daughter's was murdered by her mother yesterday. i am not quite sure how to broach it with her... i did not know anyone who died at my age as a child,let alone by the hands of a parent.

The first time i recall a classmate dying was when a guy i went to private school with killed himself over losing a girlfriend. i hadn't spoken to him in over 4 years, and went to the funeral. i wish i could remember what i thought about it at the time, given my new enlightened view of suicide.

i know, and fear, that the Land will act as though it's not a big deal, then become quiet, maybe tear up. That is how she deals with most emotional situations. Or, she will not grasp the concept of death at her young age.

Mermaid

The Sea spent her time on the wet sand, waves moving in and out all over her, yelling at the waves with defiance. i could not tell what she was yelling, but to her is was a battle call. My sister and i listened to her go on and on, without any idea of what she was saying. When she tired of this, she would pad her way up to me and ask to go back out into the deeper part, where she now defied the waves by rising above them, using them to buoy her little body as she reigned over them.

What pleasure she gets from water, and i get from this.

On these nights, i don't know what to do with myself; i miss the Land and Sea, the house seems saddened by their leaving. i occupy myself with anything- tonight,it is a box of wet photographs,another gift from ExA. The possessions i have yet to collect from my old life sit in wait for me on the front porch with a leaky roof. It appears that my stuff cannot be moved fast enough to make room for his.

It's been a year, you say.

i know, i say, but a year in a dog's life is much shorter. To some dogs,it is yesterday.

As i sort through hundreds of photos still stored in paper envelopes developed at stores that no longer exist, it never ceases to amaze me how bad a photographer i was/am. Almost every trip i have taken is recorded by photos of buildings- out of focus, nondescript buildings, in Pennsylvania, Montreal, Seattle. They evoke nothing, so they all made the garbage. The ones that didn't make the garbage? Photos of buildings that had an out of focus classmate or family member.

It is this exercise that brings on sweet memories of my first love, Esme, and my second, Daisy. In photos i see a love i once had for them, perhaps still do. They lead me here, for better or for worse, and while i want to believe that if i hadn't ended those relationships i wouldn't be suffering today, i know better. They know better. It occurs to me that some day i will look upon ExA with the same love, but it angers me to consider.

Today, i saw a different photograph: four young girls, 14 or 15, walking the neighborhood, laughing and without a destination. Scenes like this capture that feeling for me, 27 years ago, when my summers were spent working very little, sleeping too late and walking from one friend's house (who had the best Atari games) to the next friend's house (who had the best albums or stereo). Divorce had touched only my best friend, and i still believed that true love existed.

i still wonder if i can ever get that boy back.

subconscious work out

i am thankful for the barrier between dreams and consciousness.

Last night, my dream had me living in a house close by a retail area, with a grocery store next door, a few hundred feet away. At one point, i sent my youngest, the Sea, to buy something at the store. My dream self had a reason at the time.

Minutes later, after she had left, my dream self, gripped in fear, looked out the window to the store wondering where she was and berating myself for letting a 5 year old walk down a busy street and go into a store alone.

The last image in my head was the look on her face when i asked her to do the errand.

Thank god for awaking.

little mirrors

The curse of raising two girls who you have encouraged to be verbally expressive is... well, they're verbally expressive.

The Sea has taken this to new heights. Lately, when i am trying to respond to her query or correcting her, she begins every sentence, "But daddy, you don't understand!" Part of me thinks that she has no idea why she uses that statement, but another part of me is fascinated by where she picked it up. Is it mine? Am i so blind to my verbal mannerisms that i say such a condescending thing to her?

Probably.


The Land is and has been since she could talk the pragmatic one. And while this bothers me because i wasted so much of my life looking at everything pragmatically, she often grounds me with it.

"Why are you using your upset voice? Are you angry? You seem angry"

And so on.

i never would have thought i'd learn so much from these little mirrors.

You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death

Lucky man.

Although, if you're going to do it, it should be done as a reflection of what your life meant: quiet, small, empty. Driving into the Grand Canyon seems....bombastic.

wood reinforced scenery

Nights like this appear, grays seep over the other colors and turn the world bleak.

Sometimes i wonder how long it will take. It had felt as though your stains were leaving me, life had hope, it made sense to start taking steps again.

No matter how much time has elapsed it returns like it is that first night i realized my mistake in ruining us.

i returned "home," the word struggling to sound sincere and couldn't walk through the door. i sat in my backyard weighing the darkness inside, the home empty of my family.

i have never hated someone so much in my life. i don't believe i have ever hated someone before.

seasons in the sum

Songs that i can't listen to without tearing up:

1. When I Was a Boy, Dar Williams
2. Fairytale of New York, The Pogues
3. New Partner, Will Oldham
4. Brockwell Park, RHP


God, i love music, for it's purifying baptism.

chrysalis

When you arrived at midnight, July 11, it looked to be another great night of conversation and kissing, but as the hours wore on, our looks and words peeled more layers off and i let myself fall slightly. i have not fallen all of the way, but i see now that i could.

Navigating the physical is not as daunting as it used to be, but is not without reservation; your confidence assured me, your smiles comforting. My hands found you warm; soft; trembling; assured. And it is still the kissing i enjoy most.

It is too easy to say that you are a burst of light since my downfall, but not too much to call you seraph from now on.

first summer's eve

Tonight we walked the beach, sea wall, docks. We walk well, we've perfected it over the months.

The kissing always comes at the end, so sweet, never disappointing, your body like a daisy to my oak of a body. Your beauty takes another form as our lips draw apart and together, and it is only these moments do i forget my mistake, forget the strings that tether me to ExA.

i am not doomed to repeat my past.... i do not dwell on what you want with me, do not invite the voices that question why someone so young would spend time with someone so jaded.

i need a new name for you.

that POSTER

When I was 10, i wanted that Farrah Fawcett poster; it was 1977, the year it came out. My parents (or my mom) thought it too provocative for me and so the one i got, if I remember correctly, was of Farrah wearing a blue t-shirt, holding something in her hands that was out of view and staring vacantly at the camera. Looking at it now, i am surprised that the 10 year old me didn't notice that her pronounced nipples. It passed my mom's censor stamp.

Our house was for sale at that time, and when a family came to look at it, their son, my age, looked at the poster and his father said, "The poster doesn't come with the house, Rob." Rob and i became friends after they bought the house. Years later, he had DEVO posters in the same bedroom.

Earlier that Spring, when Charlie's Angels had taken the country by force, my friend The King and i went door to door in our neighborhood under the pretense of collecting magazines... for what, i do not remember. We were hoping to get the Time magazine where the three of them on the cover.

This is odd to recall, like finding a piece of clothing that was yours but in hindsight swear you'd never wear. Girlie posters and magazines have not been part of my cultural palette since then.

i loved the fact that she was married to Lee Majors, because The Million Dollar man was a favorite TV show. It took me years to stop referring to her as "Farrah Fawcett Majors".

And Logan's Run was one of my favorite movies, as i was so into Sci-Fi, and vividly remember her breakthrough performance as the plastic surgeon's assistant.

Thank you, Farrah, for such great childhood memories.

a cave within a cave

Frustrating is the situation where a person deludes herself so much that even the truth will not set her free.

KT and i spent time together last night after not speaking for about five weeks; the last time was when she appeared at my home, drunk, at 1:30 AM and tried to convince me that she was not there for a hook up. After initial trepidation i found myself comfortable being with her and moments arose that reminded me why I liked her in the first place.

My mind went back and forth about whether or not i would succumb to the sexual, but it seemed moot as the night went on and she spoke of another man. i was wrong, and once it became clear that i could own the moment, i jumped in whole hearted.

Then the after shit came, as it always does. She wants so badly to see the last 14 months as special, and that in spite of what i have said, she believes that i did at one time love her. She does it in a joking manner, as if to circumvent my protests.

You were just a way to get out of my marriage. i exaggerated affection for you, based on a initial attraction, not unlike my marriage.

It's so sad, and realize that no amount of great sex is worth having to listen to her go one and one about how special we were/are.

walking on the moon

i am 17 again: the bar is easily a high school gym, i come across you happenstance, each of us with our own friends. We converse, separate, converse, diverge. i then do something typically high school: send you a request to take a walk; you respond yes, simply. (texting is powerfully simple).

In 1984, my first love approached the bleacher where i half heartedly watched a football game. i was there for one reason only:hoping she'd show. She looked up at me, slightly drunk, her eyes filled with words i did not yet know. i asked "do you want to take a walk?" She nodded slowly, and we walked away from the game, to the darker area of the field, the grass wet, and i was so enamored with her, so thankful for these few minutes that made me beautiful.

Tonight, when we walked, i thought nothing of the walk 25 years ago; you were just a few months old then. Our conversation is neither natural nor forced, always exciting, always welcoming, but i will soon kill it with a comment about how seeing you once in awhile is no longer enough. The kiss from a week earlier changed that... for me, not you. You are always armed with the escape caveat of not wanting to lead me on.

Still, when i ask how you know about the details of my courting Starburst girl, you become serious, and launch into a detailed description of the courtship, how i did it, your words hinting anger..sadness? In that moment, i know that there is something there, in spite of your escape hatch.

i cannot figure Seraph out. We have a lot of fun when we get together, every month and a half, but it just so casual, something i've never really done. Just when i think we're fading something comes along, making me want to spend more time with her.

Even after confessing my date with the Starburst woman, she was so cavalier about it; she acknowledges that we are not committed to anything, but i still felt compelled to be honest.

We had an opportunity to spend time together the other night through work, then ended up alone. Conversation is always interesting, sweet and natural.

And when we kiss, it's as though i've been kissing her for most of my life.

Which i do not think about too much, because i was 17 when she was born.

me hate beauty

i was fascinated by the Bizarro world in Superman comics. The characters were so oddly behaved, their grammar backwards.... the first time i was introduced, Bizarro Superman drank a glass of sand.

Today, i entered my own version. Dropping the girls off, ExA was gardening and her next one was cleaning the grill. A year ago, or so, i would have been cleaning the grill, the girls playing outside. She is so sure in her acceptance of all this, so comfortable. It was if i was dead, watching the world go on without me.

As if.

In Bizarro world, is divorce the happiest day of your life?

battleground

Occasionally i will be in a situation where i am talking with another man and he starts down this road of anti-woman comments. Not hateful, but the worst kind of subversion, under the guise of "knowing their true nature," or an offhand joke.

Once engaged, i hesitate to press my opposition too strongly, as i know some views come experience, but they will just make cliche statements born of stereotypical characterization. i heard an advertisement the other day that involved a husband and wife conversing about their amazing grill, and then he whispers under his breath that he wishes that she looks as good as the grill after so many years of marriage.

i detest this view in particular, that woman "let themselves go" after being married, that they become these nagging, demanding spouses who make their husbands lives miserable.

And then there is a local talk show host who every night manages to infuriate me, usually when using an effeminate tone to illustrate what he sees as weakness. Recently, while commenting on the invention of a ring that women wear to show pride in being single, unmarried, he went off on a diatribe about how women are being raised to ignore their femininity, their attractiveness- the message was clear: strength in a woman equals masculinity.

What's the quote? "Feminism is the radical notion that women are people."

There was a time when i was too feminist in my nature, and i have learned to relax and appreciate the differences between the sexes. Still, presented with certain views of women, i bristle about how much crap is believed.

tine phase

i had a date with the Starburst woman tonight; it was fun, but we found that we have very little in common. Conversation flowed like molasses. i will be surprised if there is a second one.

We're very different in how we live life, in what we like. That doesn't bother me in the least but it wasn't easy to connect. After a couple of hours we finally found some common ground in cooking. The conversation flowed better then it had all night.

We were never at a loss for conversation, but it didn't always move like music, like conversation should when two people are really interested in one another and cannot wait to hear the next word.

i still occasionally fear i will not have it again, like i did with ExA, but it comes after a date that didn't go so well, and i know i will not find something quickly.. i really am not sure i want to find something right now.

S******** is a beautiful woman, and while i had known that for some time it was her words and her movements that recently drew me in , inspired me to send the candy. It's hard to know after one date what works and what doesn't.

i got lucky when i met ExA.

new rooms

This will be the first night i sleep in my new house. It hasn't been uncomfortable here... in fact, oddly familiar. My friend K****keeps commenting how at ease i am with the whole thing.... i am afraid i am missing something i should be stressed out about.

It's been one year since the attempt- most of the time i am happy i failed. But the failure of my marriage still haunts me, no matter where i live.

i spoke with the ghosts in my new house and we agreed to let each other alone, to cohabitate peacefully.

i hope they uphold their end of the bargain. i have enough dead spirits around me.

daughters

i have had my girls with me all week, as their mom is away. When she first asked, last Fall, i think the tone in her voice indicated it was asking a lot of me. As the week approached, i think i started wondering if it was going to be a lot, although i have a job that allows me to be tremendously flexible at times and a lot of vacation time.

It has been a week filled with opportunity, love growing in dimension and having what i missed since the separation and divorce: seeing them go to sleep and wake up everyday. Their mom is so lucky to have them as much as she does.

ressurrection

Things with Seraph haven't really gone anywhere, so i decided to act on a crush i have had on a woman at work. She is also younger than me, and whenever i see her i am utterly taken by her eyes. While out with a group that included her a few weeks ago, she made a comment about liking the pink Starbursts the best. So, after getting eight bags and picking out all the pink ones, I sent them all in a box to her with a card telling her that i would like to go out with her.

i am surprised that i am not more anxious- i guess it's more of losing that fear that drove me in life, especially in the last few years of marriage, when i felt as though i could do nothing right, that i was all wrong, worthless.

If she is unimpressed, if she is disinterested, no matter- i did what i wanted, and didn't look back. All of that romantic stuff i have missed for so long, that i wasted on an uncaring wife and a mistress with whom i wanted nothing, animates me again, brings life to trees and not trees, connects all poetry, art and music.

It's been not quite a year, but i thought for sure that i would regret not living for well over 365 days. i was wrong. And that's okay.

meet the new boss

I came across this picture in some publication:




What struck me was that the student is a current student, but he looks as though he could have been from when I went to school. i can't tell what is on his t-shirt, but wouldn't be surprised if says "Pink Floyd" or "The Doors." No matter how much things change, the more they stay the same.

controlled falling

Finally, a reason came to me. Whenever i was asked about why i did what i did, why i tried to die, my answer seemed half convincing: "i needed to stop time" or "i didn't want to see what came next."

Last Saturday morning, it came to me, as i lay in bed, getting ready to start my day. My day always starts with a review of my current surroundings: a futon, boxes stacked against walls, four pictures on a wall in a feeble attempt to create a home... all my possessions stored in a bedroom. Over the months the disgust it caused in me has faded to bitter sweetness.

i do not know where it came from, but when it arrived, it made perfect sense:

the suicide was a way to regain control, as i had lost control over everything in my life, my marriage, my children, my home, my friends..... it was a last ditch attempt to not be beaten down.

an operating table

Dreams continue to be my enemy.

In this one, we walk through a shopping village, one my subconscious has created from all of the seaside villages i have visited: Nantucket, Newburyport, etc. We walk slowly down streets, in and out of stores, past vacationers. We talk... and you lightly touch me on the arm.

When i awaken, it's always the same thing... why the dream couldn't last a few minutes more so i could feel your hand again.

life after

My favorite nights are ones that take me by surprise, are redeeming in the subtlest of ways.

A local punk band who has been around since the 80's did a reunion show, along with two other acts with almost the same longevity. i was planning to go, and when a friend with who i have had a couple of dates came by earlier in the week, i asked her if she wanted to go along. Our time together has been fun, but did not enter the romantic realm at all, so i pretty much settled on the fact that it was just friendship.

That night, there i saw people who i hadn't seen in 20 years or more, and others who i hadn't seen since the divorce. That part was a little uncomfortable at first, but not at all, especially when one of ExA's friends approached me warmly.... i truly enjoyed seeing her. However, i felt bad for Seraph, who, at the age of 24, was a toddler when we saw this band emerge. When i said that i was sorry that she had to hang out with a bunch of older people reliving their past, she smiled and told me to stop apologizing, and i believed her.

We went out on the back deck and talked while drizzle came down and gray settled on the water. The night was misty and chilly, but our conversation flowed and i found myself looking at her face with such fascination, such longing, it surprised me.

The show was incredible- i hadn't danced that energetically in a long time- and we left early because i knew that i wanted more time with Seraph.

We talked and kissed for hours.

My relationship life is marked by moments where i have felt saved, understood, naked... i thought i would never have that again. Tonight, i felt it again, and i loved the blood that rushed in me, no longer felt as if it was a traitor.

neutral nation

It's not that i didn't have hope for anything romantic between us, it's just that after two dates it felt as though we were still circling, and i am too old for circling. Circling used to be fun; it's not anymore.

But tonight, tonight when the conversation lulled and i took the opportunity to kiss you, it made sense to me. Your slight waist fit into my hand, and your lips were gentle and thoughtful. i hadn't felt that right kissing another woman since my marriage.

No matter what comes after, i will always remember that kiss, so different from the experience a year ago, in another car, when i ensured that my marriage would end. All of that regret, all of that questioning ceased momentarily as we enjoyed the art of lips and their silent conversation.

an anniversary

Early in the day i realized that the heaviness within me was not fatigue, but sadness that today is the first anniversary of my trespass. Where i used to ask why i now repeat my favorite mantra: it is what it is and there is nothing you can do. Not exactly comforting, but, not unlike a song played over and over becomes popular because of it's saturation, it keeps life in painful perspective.

In meditation, we say "Don't know." I have spent my whole life knowing, to see it otherwise is so foreign it feels like a crime against nature.

There is no fairness, no sense of balance. I am not sure why i have such faith in Karma.

once, i was

There was a time when i looked forward to picking up The Land & The Sea at my in-laws, because it gave me time to visit with my mother-in-law, exchange quips, gush over the girls.

When i arrived today, the girls were waiting at the door in their coats and came right outside as i drove up. i realized it was time to move into that next phase of the divorce: dissolving whatever relationship i had to make room for him.

At every turn, this whole divorce manages to become more and more plaintive.

On a lighter note, as i drove down the road to their house, i spotted a doe at the side of the road, common for the area. Except the doe was standing square between two cement posts with a chain running between them, and for a minute i thought she was responsible for letting other deer into this exclusive part of the woods.

My mother-in-law would have thought this hilarious. My ex-mother-in-law.

too soon, insect

For years i had been wanting to explore more Zen practice, so last week i researched what was in RI and found a class near me, in Charlestown.

The host/teacher was very nice; she holds it in a part of her house that she turns into a prayer area. Only one another person showed up tonight- they assured me that they usually get six to nine people weekly. It felt a little like Trekkies convincing me that they're not the only ones who go to the convention.

i enjoyed the meditation very much, but i had been hoping that there would be an exchange between the teacher and student, in the way it is in Zen literature. She did ask us for comments at the end of the session, but it was a far cry from her calling me "Grasshopper."

My initial intention was to have all of those questions answered through this process, but came to realize that answering my worn out, cliche questions isn't the point.

What is the point?

i'll let you know, later.

Ceulloid Therapy

Therapy, for me, often comes in the form of a movie that stirs me, touches something within me not easily seen. As was the case with "Slumdog Millionaire". It left me crying and happy, simultaneously enjoying both journeys, as does "American Beauty," "Truly Madly Deeply" and "Harold and Maude."

i recited the mantra that has comforted me in these last 11 months:

i chose this path. i chose to keep the relationship going, to meet up. i chose to get in her car that night. i made my bed,i remind myself everyday, and am reminded every time i see his car at ExA's house, hear his name come from the mouths of our daughters.

i also chose to end my life, but the universe didn't see fit to fulfill that choice with as much relish as it did my infidelity.

222009

Groundhog Day came and went, and while most paid attention to news of having to bear six more weeks of winter, i spent the day bothered by the fact that i couldn't or shouldn't acknowledge my ex mother in law's birthday.

It's events like this that i failed to see their importance to my being, my wellness. i am sure many cannot fathom how i would not know that by getting into a woman's car one night i therefore give up the right to see my girls wake up every morning, hear about their day, lay beside them in their beds as their breathing becomes deeper with sleep.

i envy him. He gets to see all of this and more, and lay beside her at night.

i am going on, as do disaster victims, as do the limbless.

Why not? Easy access and all

This is one of the things you least expect to see while perusing the news:

Of course, the real story doesn't carry the sexy overtones the teaser does, but it made my day to say the least.

sunday snow

A surprise snowstorm greeted us when we awoke. After our Sunday duties, we bundled up and went out to enjoy it. After two snow walls were built, we each took turns trying to hurl snowballs at one another, a kind of civilized battling. If it weren't for the fact that L & C cannot throw very well, we would have been out there until dark.

But to see their excitement when it was their turn was enough.... smiles with hints of bad intent, laughter with devious overtones.

stones tomorrow

i know you hurt, don't think i don't. But to care, to feel, is so beyond my capacity it frightens me.

Some days i think i will go from woman to woman so i don't have to mar my marriage. It is safer to feed on bits of bread than to marry the baker.

If i cared i'd have a better metaphor.

Please know, KT, you are always wonderful. Not were, are.