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Am I ready?

Can I trust?

 

Am I foolish?

Can I feel?

 

Am I crazy?

Can I cope?

 

Am I heartless?

Can I love?

 

Yes . . . no . . . maybe

The answers change

Moment by moment

 

 

Here I am
Before you
I’ve waited
So very long
Would you let me
Love you
This time

 
Together
But a moment
Only to part
Your need
To leave not stay

 
Together
Again after
Another ending
My choice
To turn away


Together
Once more we two
What do you want?
Should I have hope?
This time
 
I would love you
Fear, all that stops me
I would fall in love
Doubt, all that restrains me
 
I hate the asking
Still I know I ought
I hate the waiting
Still I fear to trust
I hate not knowing
Still I remain silent
 
Would you let me
Love you
Could you love me
In return
Might we have a chance
This time   

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can an epiphany grow slowly, come to fruition over the course of time?  Maybe what I’m experiencing is more of an awakening or an acceptance?  Yes, acceptance.  The epiphany happened March 9, 2008.  It was something that had been rattling around inside me for sometime.  On March 9th, it flowed out of me in words.  I was finishing a post and at the end three lines that didn’t fit, spilled onto the screen.  They felt right.  Even though they were strange and awkward, I left them.

 

The awakening progressed from that date.  I had just the day before changed the theme on my blog.  The old tagline just wasn’t working for me and those three lines struck me as ideal for the website banner.  Now, I see them every time I looked at the site.  They wouldn’t leave me alone and they ended up in more posts.  It wasn’t a new idea.  Its always been there for me to realize.  I guess I just wasn’t ready.  I sort of marinated in the idea for a while. 

 

Oh, I would so much prefer the mystic of being a seeker . . . Those that are tormented or driven in their searches.  Their pursuits, so arcane and anguished, seem ever so much more consequential.  What a marvelous and romantic cloak to wrap one’s self in.  Unfortunately, that particular garment doesn’t fit me. Those things that I strive for, once attained, are never gratifying or satisfying.

 

Wanderer . . . Now there is a coat that fits me.  My wanderings have been more of a spiritual nature than a geographic one.  Though I have tried seeking meaning and truth, I have yet to find it in those places I have sought.  It is much more likely for me to stumble over meaning and have truth sucker punch me.  I seem to have to wonder at all I come across before I can assimilate it and make it part of the veracity that crafts me. 

 

The acceptance is now simple.  I’m not that which I had thought I was.  I am no seeker.  I am a wanderer and a wonderer.  I follow no path.  I have no real goal.  I question everything.  Mine is a spontaneous journey of discovery.  Fate, a better judge of that I must learn in this life, steers my course.  Karma provides me spiritual guides in the strangest of people.  Destiny is the only road map I have to follow.  Each new advancement, nothing I could anticipate, but in hindsight, the growth I truly needed to evolve.

 

 

So if you haven’t looked yet, the words . . .

 

Lost I may yet reach my goal

Without finding all that I seek

I may still be made whole

 

Miss Demure Restraint’s Journal
Written Winter 2007 thru Early Summer 2008
Yes, it really took that long

Life has a way of “messin’ with ya.”  You think something is over and you close the book on it.  I literarily wrap up my life’s courses in this journal.  It’s a kind of closure for me.  Then Karma and her sister Fate, those little minxes that must endlessly tinker with my perception and my life, step in and throw me an unexpected curve. 

Sean is a most amazing man.  I met him through the Internet.  He is special to me in so many ways, I can’t begin to explain.  The most incredible thing he did for me was to reawaken my sexuality.  I find him immensely attractive, everything from his long hair to the Thor’s Hammer and leather wristband he wears to his intensely expressive eyes.  He is a musician, an artist.  Of course!  There is something about a creative soul that makes a man overwhelmingly captivating to me.  Sean radiates such an artistic aura.  It wasn’t flashy with him as it has been with others.  It was more a calm, warm light; like sunshine on your face on a mild spring day.

From his first poetic e-mails, Sean seduced me.  I will always remember our first exchange.  We seemed to have an instant connection, common interests.  The eloquent nature of his writing intrigued and enamored me.  I could easily have known him in a past life.  Then again, his vibe is so mellow that no matter I could only ever feel safe with him.  That feeling was not the result of repeated association, but a testament to his incredible verve. 

We spent time talking on the phone.  He made me laugh.  He drew me out.  I found myself disclosing things I rarely told others.  When we did meet it was capricious.  I had never been attracted to any man quite like I was to him.  We share a physical bond I know I won’t duplicate with anyone else.  That’s probably a good thing.  In another journal entry I wrote of him and said . . . Yes, Sean most likely played me like one of his electric guitars and I loved every minute of it.  I would do it all again in a heartbeat. 

He vanished without a word.  One day he just stopped replying to e-mails and text messages.  He didn’t call and my pride would not allow me to call him.  He disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared.  I was upset, but nothing so traumatic as to unhinge me.  He was the first after such a long hiatus.  I frankly don’t think I could have forgone a look around to see what else was out there anyway.  I jumped back on the dating-go-round and had quite a wild ride.

Well, what can I say except this proves the sincerity of what’s recorded here in the journal . . . I did it again.  I’m not sure it even took a heartbeat.  When it rains, it pours.  I had a week when it seemed all the guys that had fallen away resurfaced.  Most significantly, within 24 hours I had e-mails from Luke and Sean.  These were the two most impactful men I had been involved with.  I almost blew Luke off, but managed to keep my original plans and waited to reunite with Sean.  His e-mail was that touching.  He was open and honest.  He made no pretense as to what he was looking for.  He even thought I might not care to ever speak to him again.  He was wrong.  He called as soon as I responded and it was as if no time had passed. 

Our sexual liaisons had been as momentous for him as me.  Still, he was not looking for a romantic relationship.  As he so directly put it, he was looking for “a friend, heavy on the benefits.”  How could I say no to a man that claimed he fantasized about me?  How could I not see if that spark was still there?  Honestly, much the same thing was going on with Luke.  The difference was that when I left Luke in the morning, I knew he and I would never be able to rekindle our sensual fire.  We might be able to be platonic friends, but that is all.  The moment I saw Sean, I had no doubt we would always connect and gratify each other on the physical plane.

We had a phenomenal weekend pushing the boundaries.  We knew we could be safe satisfying our curiosity together.  After that, we would get together a couple of times a month.  We’d hide out at my place for a day or two.  It wasn’t necessary to venture into the world or do anything but hang . . . laughing, talking, toking, listening to music, watching movies and exploring our sexuality.  It was awesome and it was fun.  It was a casual relationship without demands.  If we liked it, we did it.  We found a closeness in our pleasure, but we were not a daily part of each other’s lives.

I continued my search for the man I knew somehow was out there seeking me also.  Sean, however, became my mainstay.  If he called I would change my plans to accommodate him, to spend time with him.  There was no one that I preferred being with.  I had settled into a happy routine.   I never had a lack of dates and with seeing Sean regularly, I was erotically satiated.  I was by no means exclusive with him, but no one else ever came close to him when it came to sex.  More and more we grew to appreciate many other things about one another.  We found comfort and joy in each other’s arms.

Then one day the inevitable occurred.  It was bound to happen to one or the other of us.  As it turns out, I fell in love.  I had not found anyone that fulfilled me such that I was willing to make any real commitment.  Then one day, I met a man like none before him.  I had no issue dumping my male harem, except for Sean.  I had not expected that.  I found myself stalling.  Even though more each day I knew I had found the man for me, still I could not bring myself to let Sean go.  I even contemplated trying to juggle both, but I would have been lying to the two most important men in my life even if by omission.  I could never do that to either of them or myself.  Still, I confess my greed, the thought was there for a brief moment.

My rocker didn’t let me down though.  He was gracious and truly happy for me.  He made me do something I never do.  He made me cry with his honor and compassion.  These were not tears of regret, just a sadness at parting.  You see, my fuck buddy had become my friend and lover.  He was not the one I expected to release my tears to.  It was his parting gift.  I haven’t cried, nothing more than a few quiet tears, over a man or anything for that matter in many years.  I spent hours bawling like a baby and finished writing this . . . something I had started months ago, but didn’t know where it was going.

Sean is dear to me in countless ways.  There is no one else that could have done the things he did for me.  He awoke physical passion in me and opened the floodgates in the dam holding back my tears.  He was the proof that I had beyond doubt found absolute love.  How can I be so sure it is absolute?  I could have never let Sean go for anything less, not by choice.  He will forever be in my heart and a part of me, no matter what may come.  All I can say for now . . . Baby, you rock!

Journal Note
August 2008

Life has a way of “messin’ with ya.”  You think something is over and you close the book on it, but this story just doesn’t seem to end.  When the man I thought was the love of my life became a monster before my eyes, yes, my rocker was there for me.  True and wise, gentle and understanding, venerable and supportive, he was the man that stood beside me, calmed my fears and made me feel safe in the world once more.  I can’t imagine ever again letting go my bond with my friend, my lover, my rocker . . . Sean.

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