I know there’s something here. I know that there’s something that I need to see or need to take notice of. It is early, as usual. I am awake and sipping my first few sips of my morning coffee. I am separating myself as a means of positive detachment which is not to say that I am detached or, by any means, is not to say that I have sunken to grief or given my hopes towards the end-all-be-all goal of a life that moves into my happily ever after.
No –
I understand that there are periods of growth. There are times to learn. There are phases of joy and moments of realization.
There are all of these things and more. However, rather than offer myself up to the mixed bag of emotions or list my problems by overthinking them or questioning everything, I have no choice now. My options have changed and therefore, I had to step back.
I had to take a breath. And more, I had to come to the clear realization that in this moment of growth, I am going through this alone. Since this is on me, then it is also on me to work through this, which I am.
I have started my list of places to see. I have begun to book my tickets to go where I need to go and see the places that I need to see. It’s time to do what I need to do as well as what I want to do. Otherwise, none of this will ever get done.
I have made moves over the last few days which are the only moves to make for now. These moves are intimidating yet, this is all very necessary.
Still, I have dreams. I have desires. I have needs as well; however, at the moment, my needs are limited to thoughts and ideas and memories of the flesh or the curves or the feel of soft skin.
I allow myself these ideas.
Perfectly too, I might add.
I allow myself to cruise through the recollections in soft, gentle persuasions. I allow my thoughts to grow intimate; however, I will leave them here and allow myself to remain in fantasy.
Besides, fantasies can be perfect.
There’s no arguments in this fantasy. No one lies or says an unkind thing. Hell, I can even mute the sound because in fairness the kind of lust that I have now is wordless. I say this again; wordless but not moan-less or quiet by any means.
Instead, I just mute the bullshit . . .
That being said, I have ideas about the Arizona desert. I have ideas of driving along the west coast. I have ideas of lovemaking at sunset and, too, I want to share a moment, which is hand-in-hand, exploring the galaxy in a way that could only be achieved by two people who are open to the love of their kind.
I have no battles with my confusion at this time. No, I know who I am. I know exactly what I want and more, I know that at this point in my life; I am just a few days short of my 51st birthday.
I am going at this alone.
At this point, I understand more about loss and enough about gains to know that what I seek is not common nor simple. And yes, as complex as my dream is, I know this is simple.
I know that until the moment arrives where my heart, soul and body are connected and properly entwined, then I will not give myself away because when the time and the fit is right, I will give myself as perfectly as I can.
I refuse to share myself with anyone, simply because my needs to be shared or touched or felt is (and can be) insurmountable. I also understand that my value and my worth are also in an equal need to match my hunger or thirst for the feel of a perfect touch.
Yes, I am going through life’s moments as we speak. I have removed myself in a way which is not to say that I have quit or decided to cash in my chips or submit to defeat.
No, I am not defeated.
I am only getting started. I am only beginning and new again, which is perfect because this will allow me the moment to become new to the touch.
This way, I can be fresh.
This way, I can recreate my very first time. And more, now that I am experienced with touch, I have the ability to re-virginize myself, in a way.
I have therefore decided that whenever it’s my turn to actually touch or feel the softness of flesh and curves, by all means, I am going to experience touch.
I am going to allow myself to enjoy this by touching the mind’s receptors from every angle. I am going to allow my love to be the best, or most unending drug – better than any opiate or pain killer, which is not to say that I assume there will never be pain again. No – this is only a promise to myself and a note to my soul that will act as a bond and unbreakable contract for my future.
Still . . .
Yes, I have needs, I have desires, I have the drive and the ability to move into the flesh four hours, or more. And sure, I can think of a great way to spend the day. I can think of a hundred or so different positions, and the great arrivals or the so-called orgasmic explosions that cause the body to collapse with exhaustion.
I can think of a great way to spend the aftermath of events like this, which only allow for a moment’s rest before recollecting my stamina, so that I can go at it again and hopefully again after this, if I please.
Nothing is over in my mind. Nothing has stopped. Nothing has changed for me. My dreams and my hopes and my wants and my needs are still alive and well. Nothing is ever going to change that. However, as I gather myself as the result of a fall out and a break-up, and as I recover my inner-troops and set myself to battle in court and deal with monetary troubles and the grueling battles over “who gets what,” I have to remember that I am where I am for a reason.
I’m here. Of course.
Alone. But that’s okay.
So, I have to act “As if.”
I have to move, “As if.”
I have to live, “as if” because when my time comes and my opportunities open up, I need to see them properly. I need to process this as well because when the time comes for me to reach for the hand of my future, I want to explore the world with the love of my life. But more, I do not want anything to ever come between me and this again. No cowardly excuses or allowances for past emotional disorders to interrupt my dreams from either side. And so be it.
Therefore. I admit to my faults. I admit to my immaturities. I accept my fate as it stands now; however, I accept the fact that my fate could change at any given moment. So, in the interim, I am choosing to hold still and care for my readiness because when the time comes, I want to be ready.
I want to enjoy every second.
Literally, every second.
I am not leaving the country so quickly; however one trip is in the chamber. I should be pulling the trigger shortly. The next trip is also big to me and intimidating as well. Yet, since I have never done these things on my own, I admit to certain intimidations.
I admit to the fear that by doing this on my own, this limits my events, so-to-speak, that will acknowledge that yes, I am on my own now. I am alone. And yes, this is real now. Although I understand the webs of loneliness are sticky and misleading, I believe that it is equally triumphant and glorious to do these things which I would have never dared to do.
I have decided to make my 51st trip around the sun worthwhile which means I will only spend my time with worthwhile people. Therefore, I will not share myself or allow myself to be offered to people who cannot or will not choose to value me properly. I am never going to settle or give my love away as if it were as worthy as an old newspaper.
This is more than just a relationship decision. This is equally a business decision as well.
In fact, I liken this to a day when I was so beaten and so hurt and so intimidated that I nearly allowed this to destroy me. Rather than see my business as an unfit connection to a place where I wanted to be, yet, I didn’t belong, I chose to personalize this.
I chose to let this overwhelm me.
As if this was a representation of me or my worth. Better yet, I thought this was on me because somehow, I was either not worthy enough or “good enough.”
But I am good enough. I am worthy enough. Though at the moment, my business is now going back to the old drawing board, as they say, I have decided that as a means of positive detachment, I refuse to own the items in my life that no longer belong to me.
Life needs to be this way. Otherwise my arms are too tired from carrying the baggage which never belonged to me in the first place.
I will close with this, my good friend, Brantley Foster, who I only know from a move that I can relate to and the dream that I have, which I continue to have. Only now, my next few chapters will focus on more than just a few notes from my neighborhood.
This will be more than about my crock pot ideas, which I do every Saturday now. This is more than about the secret of my success (or my endurance) and more, this is about the benefit of my recovery and that when the time comes and when I am fresh from the box, my love will be more perfect than ever. When that time comes and when it;s time to press the flesh – she better watch out and clear her schedule because I have hours of temptation in mind.
Trust me on this one.
The Written Addiction 