Any Willing Him

The first night they spoke, she felt the light of him in her soul and had every moment since.  She had no logical explanation for why she loved him so very much.  She knew hardly anything about him.  Still, the man she knew, she adored.   Just being with him was a joy for her.  Their physical bond was ecstasy and she never imagined anyone could touch her the way he did.  He made her laugh and think.  He inspired her.  He let her be herself.  She couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that before.

 

She couldn’t begin to tell him how much he meant to her.  Its crazy that she should have such deep feelings for him in so very short a time, but she did.  She probably started falling in love with him the first night they spoke.  He had no idea how much it hurt her when she stopped hearing from him for a time.  She knew his reasons and tried to understand, but it hurt nonetheless.  She still didn’t know what caused her to respond when he finally did contact her again when always before she would have retreated to protect herself from further pain.

 

She was doing things that just a couple of months ago had someone told her, she would have bet them anything they were dead wrong.  Broken trust, the hardest thing for her, so she’d learned not to trust at all.  Love is only infatuation without trust and always fades in short order.  Sex is just exercise after a while without love.  Even with great chemistry and/or experienced partners, there is a very limited shelf life for loveless relationships.  This seemed to be more solid to her or did she simply want it that much?

 

Was she in love with a man or with being in love?  Was it really him or would any willing him do? 

 

Baggage Claim

My writing is the place I check my baggage and I rarely redeem a claim ticket.  Consequently, the fruits of my labors are usually questions, yearning, rebellion, melancholy.  I am looking for some kind of answers.  Oh, nothing so deep as the meaning of life or as sweeping as the truth of the illusion. 

 

I live on a smaller scale, worship in a smaller church.  A man once told me my church was too small.  What was there to say except that perhaps his god was too big.  My church is just the right size for me.  It was a group therapy session during one of my hospital stays and my attitude did not go over well.

 

Still, I’m only mildly pollymanic these days, so we’ll end this here and chuck the claim check immediately.