and so it goes

ive kept a handwritten journal since i was in tenth grade in high school. wrote in it every day almost, just to save myself from therapy. i still remember the yellow-spiraled cheap notebook, pages tattered; some lost and forgotten, others stuck by staples or tape. i loved that journal.

through time and multiple moves and mostly disorganization, ive misplaced it. in fact, i dont know where my other journals are, but ive learned that it doesnt matter their location. the fact that they existed with me once upon a time is enough to cary me.

i dont know how to explain how i am when im writing my thoughts. part of me becomes embroiled in the process of writing, how the pen makes love to the paper, how the letters form. another part of me is entranced by my fleeting thoughts, that what i think isnt always static. i change my mind so much, contradict myself, but this is my way of processing and analyzing tiny details in order to see the big picture.

******

i met someone a few months ago. he was by far the most amazing man ive met in a very long time. he was probably the first man ive gotten involved with. many others are boys compared to him.

i guess what separated him from others was that he is a father. he is first a father, and every other role he plays is a distant second. in him, ive found a comrade who understood the demands of one area of my life. and listening to him when he talked to his little boy made me want to be a better parent.

not only a better parent, but a better person. he made me feel like a woman. he brought out my sensuality and creativity. but most of all, he brought out my femininity. it had been so long.

he inspired me to write again. he made all these beautiful words come out from my soul. intensity is the word that ive learned from his essence. everything was intense with him. text messages, kisses, looks, orgasms, love. they were so welcomed.

his love for fashion inspired me to dress and accessorize and buy things i never thought id buy before. if i were to spend the night at his house, i chose the next-days outfit carefully because i dressed for him, even if he saw me in it for only a few moments.

his calmness soothed me. i would always listen to his heart after we had both cum, and i would be amazed by how unchanged the rhythm was. his heart. so fucking big and really beautiful, i would imagine. ive only seen glimpses of it, feelings never directed towards me, but to his boy and to others who were in his life.

he is the tallest man ive ever been with, not in height but in magnitude. when i was with him, i felt elevated to a new level. he described himself as simple, but he is anything but.

and to him, i will always be grateful for how he changed me in such little time. he woke me up from a numbed existence. he made me feel again, and he doctored me to being who i am at this single moment.

and because of him, ive decided to take down this blog. a year ago, i started it to relieve some creative tension, and i became addicted to improving my style and technique and details.

this blog had saved me more times than i can imagine in the same way he saved me from living a desensitized life.

will i write again? of course. i couldnt live without documentation.

will i write here? no. i have to leave this part of me behind now, as i try to work on parts of me that need so much improvement.

my only regret is that i wasnt more forthcoming with him about my feelings, but id never learned how to communicate my rawness in a coherent way. i show bits and pieces, and i leave many confused rather than elated.

i love him. i love his flaws. i love the scars on his heart. i love his mind. i love the magic and mysticism in him. i love him. and my heart breaks because of this love, but i want to feel every little pain of it.

so, im off now to follow a direction that i know will lead me to new people, new loves, new experiences. i look forward to this new adventure, hoping to not look back. but its times like these that i wish i can reach out for his hand to walk with me, but i know that i cant.

he has read this blog. learned of my secrets that ive tried to keep from him. learned of my real life. learned of my inability to commit. learned nothing new, for i sense hes always known me all along.

he knows me. and he accepts me. and this scares me, and i push him away.

i had only one wish. to create an expression between he and his son. i had hoped for the opportunity to document them at play together, to document them interact before the little one fell asleep, to document their bond. all in pictures. i had wanted this for him because i hadnt done it for myself.

and did i mention? i invited him to vegas. thats a stretch for me to leave my familiar surroundings and go off on an adventure with someone new. the thought of it frightened me yet made me wish it were already december.

i write this mostly for him, so that he will understand.

but i also write this for you, so you will know where im going.

and i write this for me, so i will remember where ive been.