I don't know how they do it. Seriously, I don't. I think I might have in some point in my life, but that time is so far gone that I couldn't even get there in Mr. Peabody's WABAC (pronounced wayback) machine - now you know, that's a long time ago. How do people just pick up and start over? End one relationship and begin a new one all over again in a few months. I seriously really don't get it. Somebody has to help me out with this one.
I have a good friend who threw a huge party last spring to celebrate her upcoming nuptials. She and the girl broke up within a couple of months before the wedding. Almost immediately she was back on the prowl because she wanted to be married. She felt like she had been single long enough. A few months later she met someone and married her. All of this was in less than a year. It's not what she thought it would be. She's surprised. Really?!
I don't get it. I mean, are we really that desperate? Another friend and I were talking the other day about older women. She said she understands what I mean about women my age. She is in her mid 30s. She likes cougars, but she sees that many of us are willing to put up with so much crap just to say we are with someone. Is that what we have reduced ourselves to being? Desperate, lonely and afraid to be single? Willing to be with just anyone just to be with someone?
Well, I don't want just anyone. I want my special someone. I am not too old to still believe in love at first sight. I still believe in loving with reckless abandon - OK, I believe in it, but I may not be TOO reckless. I believe in the romance, the desire of the whole thing. I want to want her. I want her to want me, can't wait to see me, can't wait to see her. I want the excitement, the passion, the desire. It makes the daily humdrum worth it.
Don't get me wrong; as a realist (and having been around the block more than a few times) I know a relationship takes a lot of work, commitment and compromise, etc., but that's not what I am talking about. I am talking about the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you know you are going to see her again. That joy at the end of the day when work is over and you finally get to go home and see that smiling face. That warmth that overtakes your body when you wrap her up in your arms and stare down into those chocolate pools and move in for that kiss that says, "Hi Honey, I'm home," because that's where you are when you're with her.
And with her is where I want to be. I want her to share her day and to tell her about mine and then spend OURS together. I want to see the smile on her face when I share the first poem I have written about her, and the fifth and the tenth and the 112th! I want her to know that I feel her when she is down, to know that the bubble bath I've drawn for her with Epsom salts and soothing oils, smelly goods and those rose petal soap thingys is my way of saying, "I heard you had a bad day and I am here to make it better...," or for her to accept my apology in one of those cheesily written Blue Mountain Arts cards because there is really nothing I can say about me being a buckethead or to take the hurt away, but buying that card lets her know just how stupid I feel, that I am willing to make an effort and hope she is willing to at least see that.
I want her to accept me at my best and see me at my worst and to know that all of it is me and I am working on what I know needs improvement. I want her to know when I give her the toy hot little red Mercedes (if that is what she wants) that I am saying, "I will work hard with you, beside you, for me and for you to have what we desire in our futures both together and apart." And most of all, I want her to know that the best I can give her is me, my time, my energy, my love, and the comfort and safety of my very big loving heart. Everything else as they say, is gravy.
And then I want all of that back for me. I want the joy, the hugs, the kisses, the snuggles, the furtive glances when PDAs aren't appropriate, because sometimes they are not, and the "I can't wait to get you home" glances, because those are so full of promise and I am looking forward to enjoying the fulfillment.
I want the support, love, affection, the desire, the comforts, the coddling - OK, maybe only once in a while because I'm a baby when I'm sick. I want someone who isn't afraid of tears - hers or mine, who isn't afraid of joy - hers or mine, who isn't afraid of success - hers or mine, who wakes up with God and me on her mind - and in that order is OK with me. I want her to know my divinity and its radiance and my humanness with its shortcomings and to love them both.
I want someone who comes with baggage which is neatly sorted and has already been gone through a few times. Maybe it's condensed, maybe it's compartmentalized, I don't care, as long as it's been dealt with. I know that is the woman who won't run at the first sign of trouble, that is the woman who will carefully check my baggage to see how well I have handled mine, and most importantly, that is the woman who has gained some wisdom to go along with her loving. And Lord knows I want a wise woman.
And yes, make no mistake about it, I want the sex, the sexual exchange, the "she's gotta have it" moments when nothing else matters - not the new hairdo, the mani, the pedi, the trip to the Max counter or Victoria's Secret - nothing is sacred; I want the heat, the fire; I want the scorching hot searing screaming headboard-banging sex. And I want the quiet passion as well, the kind that is on you before the sun comes up or your eyes are even open, the kind that burns right through you when you are sleeping, the kind that says, "I want to hold you all night long because your fine round behind pressed against my thighs is enough to make me hunger at night, but I'm gonna sleep through it because I love that feeling too."
I want to feel inside of her, crawl up inside and know each cell intimately, taste each morsel of her, wrap her around my head and have to clean out my ears, unstick my eyelashes and wash my hair when we're done. I want to know her weight from balancing it steadily and often on my tongue, know her strength by the clamp of her thighs against my jawbone. I want to know which explosion is because I rocked her with my digits or because I rocked her with my ... I just want to know. All of it.
And I want her to know me intimately. I want her to go beyond what the world says is OK for her as a girl to enjoy me as a boy and be more than alright with it. I want her to never forget that I am a woman first and foremost and I too have my moments of needing, moments when I need her to be stronger than I am, more aggressive than I am and some of those moments may be in between the sheets. Sometimes, I will need her to remind me that I am a woman. And yes. I said that out loud. Because at the end of the day I AM a woman loving a woman.
Maybe I want too much, but I don't think so. I know there is more out there for me and I am not going to settle. So, I am willing to just wait. Life has taught me one thing if nothing else: I am never the only one. I know there is someone out there who believes the things I do and knows (like me) how to put them into action. In the meantime, I will just keep thinking about her. They say what you focus on is what you energize and manifest. (Closing my eyes)...Wow! She is beautiful!