October 20, 2010 - 6:48 a.m.
12 minutes as a straight girl
and all the internalized insecurity, rules and self-doubt
came flooding to the front of my brain
the concern for leaving him unsatisfied,
the questioning of my own actions and how they would be read,
the self-censorship and editing of my own words - to be certain that they did not betray me and leave me vulnerable.
4 days in a straight perspective
wondering if he would 'call'
what would it mean if he did not?
having to ask myself if I was just another stop on a city-hoping star's launch pad, to fuel his ego,
in this case - with new exotic fuel -
anti-freeze, turned to honey
and now I will be happy with what I get,
because that's the pose I've been taught to mimic
I have seen enough movies to know
what desperate looks like.
And I don't mean any of this
in a negative way.
None of it affects the way I have allowed myself to feel,
because it started here, in my own head.
I knew the rules,
and I knew they could apply to me.
I knew what I was breaking.
To expect an elaborate, impractical, display of residual affection is unrealistic.
But it all went so smoothly, that the shot of fresh air, like a window rolled down at night to keep you from falling asleep at the wheel, at the end of a night that went on too long,
because it was beautiful...
this shock of realization, that there is no glass slipper
that the most I can count on is an occasional email, and the knowledge that while he was here
he made me feel that he was here with me
I cannot resent it,
except to resent my own desire to know more,
which may only exist because
I know it is impossible.
I created this paradox.
And in my own head, I have made him something I want to pursue
to be pursued by
because, to date, he played his part
with such grace
And that is why I love women. Because I never have to second guess my feelings and actions. If I come on too strong, it is only because they are too weak.
If I am nervous, it feels thrilling.
I am self-possessed
until the moment I allow myself to be taken
in and into
another
under her hands,
I know where I am and where I want to be taken.
I am in total control
of what she does to me
in her mind
and in the space between her bodies,
the rules are re-negotiated
and I will always have the upper hand,
my own -
making and remaking the strings of attachment and detachment between us,
weaving myself, spinning into new shapes,
showing you what you must see,
what I am and can become,
if who I am feels uncompromised -
by all those rules, insecurities and questions
that this world tries to heap on
to obscure the version of us
that would let us really, truly connect
without censorship, drenched in intensity and possibility
I want these raw, wet emotions,
powerful in my hands,
uncontained and unshaped
until
with your touch, with the meeting of our eyes, and the self you bounce back to me, like an echo
I let myself spill
and know that I will not lose myself in your hands
