Self-honesty and Letting Go

I don't know where to go to write anymore. I took this platform class that has streamlined my blogs and website to make it more "professional," but then ... I don't have anywhere else to write write. Write write my heart. But maybe. Maybe maybe I should just write write anyway. Platform be damned. There is something, after all, to be said about writing as you are -- showing up on the page -- and whosoever gels with the message will stay to read. Will feel the resonation. Will soak up my words, like rain, and plant their own seeds because of what I've said. That's who I want reading my stuff anyway.

The other ones -- the ones that take umbrage with my phrases, my pictures of story -- those ones, they can just not read. They can put the book down. They can click away. They can unfriend me. Not with any haste or malice. Just. Because they don't find what I say interesting. It doesn't make them bleed or cry or say Yes. And that's ok. I am not writing for those people.


I've been dancing lately. Unpeeling myself and looking inside. Sometimes I'm amazed at the beauty, other times I'm startled at the dishonesty and ignorance. The blindness. The self-defeating practices.

Even now I'm struggling. Struggling to write these few words, because I've been blocked again. Blocked by my own arrogance. My own denial. My own ... unhealthy practices. Who knew that not eating enough calories, or subsisting on restaurant food and instant oatmeal, or not going to bed by 10pm (11 at the latest!) could interfere with my writing?

But there it is.

So I'm forcing it through.
Sucking the stories and truths out of my bone marrow to look at them.
Thinking.
Trying not to think.
Feeling.
Trying not to feel.

And then realizing I have to.


I have a man on my floor. My hardwood floor. He is humming his symphony and reading The Handmaid's Tale. He is my friend. My platonic brother. He stays with me when I am lonely. He stays with me when he is lonely. And we talk.

We dance. We eat. We cook for each other. And we take walks.

We ask questions and make observations. About each other.

And sometimes they are ... not what we want to hear.
I'm being self-serving here. Actually, he says things to me that ring true, but that I don't want to be. And I mostly strive to contribute to our stimulating conversation in a way that won't bore him. He loves me unconditionally; we're soul-family. But most times I think I don't intellectually stimulate him, so I feel bad. Like the friendship is lopsided.

But it can't be too bad. :) We keep leaning on each other.


I'm working on two things these days.
One, letting go gracefully.

My brotherfriend says that I can't grow with fear stopping me every time I look in a particular direction. But isn't fear a natural reaction to change? Isn't fear a necessary emotion during transition? One that helps you slow down your impulse to sprint through the grieving process? Because that's my inclination. Hurry up and grieve. And in doing so I would miss the lessons and gratitude my life situations have gifted me. So no. I want to meander, not sprint. Even as my fear is slightly paralyzing, isn't that better than the alternative?

Ultimately I know that the fear will subside with time, and I will begin to move again. Look at the light again. Foster hope again. And actually, I think that will happen probably sooner than I think, but the safety of fear and paralysis is comforting.

If even a little annoying.

Two -- the other thing I'm working on -- being honest with myself.

Remember J from last year? He's back. Not in a romantic dating sort of way, but in a we travel in the same circles sort of way. He dances at the same center as I do. And a couple of times we've danced together. And once or twice I've gone out in a group after dance, and he's been one of the people there. Eventually a friendship may just evolve.

Tonight in my conversation with my brotherfriend, I started thinking, or rather feeling, that maybe there is some unfinished business with J. I feel like I've had closure with him, so of what sort of unfinished business, I don't know. Maybe we're meant to mutually inspire the spillage of words. Maybe we're meant to support each other through lonely rough times, like my brotherfriend and I do. I don't know.

But here's the thing.
I'm afraid to look at it.
Not because I'm afraid of what I'll find.
But because I'm afraid it'll hurt Zi.

He's said he's not jealous of J, that it just triggers old feelings of confusion and irritation for Zi. It reminds him of an unpleasant time. And I don't want to be the bringer of bad feelings. Especially when I can't hold his hand through it.

So is this me being dishonest with myself? My not looking at this curiosity? This friendship that might be, with J? Am I being dishonest with myself by saying that I don't want to befriend him at all, out of respect to Zi?

Or is that actually a horrible arrogance? The arrogance of believing myself responsible for Zi's feelings. As if I had control over them. As if I could manipulate him having only positive experiences on this planet. It's true he is an adult, and capable of having his own experiences. It's also true that it's not my responsibility (with all the respect in me) to make sure he's happy all the time.

But still.

I do feel responsible. I love him. I don't want to ever do anything that could create any feelings of distress for him.

But that's impossible.

I've already failed at that many times. Every time I cry. Every time I say, "No," every time I say, "I don't know," every time I change my mind, every time I say, "I can't," I fail him.

I remind myself that if I'd just been honest with myself, I wouldn't have stayed in a nine year relationship that should've ended sooner. If I'd just been honest with myself, I maybe would've captured Zi's heart earlier and he wouldn't have left Oregon, and we would still be together now -- and not in a place where I'm forced to practice my letting go skills.

A powerful stimulus for self-honesty indeed.

What a Day Off WIthout Zi Looks Like

Ok. I promise. After this post will be exciting and lovely posts. No more missing Aashik posts. Well. For a while anyway. :) Living apart just makes missing your guy part of the deal.


I thought I would type up my whole day today. That way you can see what I do with my time off. My children were with their dad and I had the day off from work, so here's what it looked like:

I woke too early. It's my day off and I was hoping for a good 8 to 10 hours but am only granted six. Upon waking I am greeted with a fearsome vision -- kind of a nightmare where I'm partially awake. I gain alertness as the vision increases in it's horror. And by the climax of it, I am fully awake -- though paralyzed from shock and sickness.

In my nightmare, our baby girl -- Zi's and mine -- our less than one day old baby girl dies in my arms before we even leave the hospital. She just stops breathing for no fathomable reason. I hit the call light to get a nurse and start to perform infant CPR. Zi isn't in the room. Maybe he's getting coffee? When the nurse whisks in, she takes over and even though more staff and doctors pour in, nothing is to be done. One nurse turns to me and shakes her head.

"No!"  I scream, as the room empties. Zi walks in then, terrified. Aghast. Heartbroken. I am crying, sobbing, hitting the bed. "No!"

Zi rushes to me to gather me in his arms. I hit at him and push him away. He is crying. When he releases me, I grab back at him, clawing at him, and he holds me and rocks me and cries with me.

In the quiet afterwards, we are sitting in my hospital bed.

"With hadn't even named her yet," Zi said in the now stark, cold, and empty room.

"Oh, but we had," I answer. My voice is dull. Wooden. But somehow hollow at the same time. "Remember? That day in the Eugene house, in bed?"

Zi closes his eyes and chokes on the sob that threatened to escape.

Isamar.


***

Awake in my bed I try to redirect the end of the nightmarish vision. With my right hand on my heart, my left on my solar plexus -- the chakra of personal power -- I perform Reiki on myself. I always have these violent visions when I'm feeling out of control in my life.

But I am in control right now, I promise myself. I can stand the time apart. It can be fulfilling. I know it can. And the rewards at the end are priceless. The rewards. My heart held in suspended love forever. Living and breathing my wholeness, sharing my forever with my Zi. My gorgeous, perfect-for-me Zi, who whispers, "I'm here with you," whenever I am sad or scared. My darling. My Zi. My lover. The Air I Breathe.

So, yes. I am in control.

With Reiki hands, I try to breathe again and I recreate a scene where our baby is in ICU instead, and we massage her little body through the holes in the incubator bassinet, and talk to her until she grows in health. She is alive.

I'm thrown off kilter for the next hour and a half while I write in my journal in bed and soothe myself with all my loving memories of Zi.

His brown hands, his muscular butt that I like to grab during sex, his heat, his passion, his voice, his love, his tenderness, his laugh -- the real one, not the chuckle. The way his foot jiggles, the way he says 'vitamin,' the way he dances (mmmm....), the ways he takes care of me, his dreams that he's careful to keep inside himself now, the black hat he wears, our showers together, that he shares everything he has with me -- his furniture, his advice, his milkshake, his money, his love. I feel safe with Zi.

I start to touch myself and imagine our current shared sexual fantasy. Then, still imagining, I slap his ass and call him a name, and say, "Don't ever leave me again."

I am stopped. Pulled back into reality, into my bedroom on Lawrence Street. Where did that come from? I am not violent at all.
I don't call names.
I don't hurt people, or shame them.

Huh.

I decide it wasn't me speaking some imbedded truth, but just grief from this morning's vision. Unfortunately, from past history, I know that sometimes a funk can follow me for days after a particularly bad vision. My only 'saving grace' is knowing that none of these 'visions' I've ever had (since they started when I was 13) has ever come true. They are not premonitions.

I sneeze twice, acknowledge my hunger, and decide -- upon getting out of bed at 7:30am -- that I refuse to let any funk attach itself to me. It was just a dream. Even though I was awake during most of it. It was just a dream. A nightmare.

I still struggle with shame from time to time regarding these 'visions.' Strictly because they happen while I'm awake, I feel like somehow I cause them. But that's not true. I know that because they only sneak upon me when I'm feeling overwhelmed and out of control, weak, and they always have to do with some violent horrible fear. It's always myself or someone I love getting hurt of dying.

I also know they aren't my fault -- that I don't cause them -- because they started happening when I was so young. 13. And, because I know my son is suffering from them now, too. Maybe from the divorce? Maybe from his anxiety-producing sensory processing disorder? And he's ten. He's not doing that to himself. He's not bringing it on himself. And I'm not bringing it on myself.

So. My day will now continue.
Food. Now.
Oh.
But I need to take my thyroid meds first. Then wait 30 minutes for better absorption of the meds.
I swallow my pill and look around my room at the little tokens of love Zi's given me. A heart shaped box. A gold fabric bag. His bed. :)

In the kitchen, I collect papers meant for the desk, decide against coffee this morning and opt for a Lotus Chai -- another gift from Zi.

It's 7:47a.m. I rinse out a tea mug from yesterday and put on water to boil. I gather the tea things. I'm standing in the kitchen with bare feet, panties and a black and white striped button-down shirt of Zi's I often wear to sleep in. While I wait, I empty the dishwasher. And then while I wait for the tea to cool, I take my supplements: multi-vitamin and calcium -- chewable, because if I don't, I throw up; vitamin D -- liquid -- because I do get tired of swallowing pills, after all. Vitamin C (one capsule), because I don't feel too out of balance in the health department (otherwise I'd be taking two); and Iron (two capsules) because I'm bleeding in my cycle right now, and I'm anemic according to my last blood test.

I push the chair in that my son left out yesterday, and put his cloth napkin in the dirty clothes. I take a sip of tea and settle into the couch with my journal, spying the jewelry I left out on the coffee table from last night, and the next book club book I'm bound to read. i have roughly three weeks to read it. I don't know how I'll manage it.

It's non-fiction -- which I actually really enjoy reading -- and is actually on a topic I find interesting ... but it seems the last few books I've read were non-fiction, and I've started a novel that is begging me back. So I have three weeks to battle off the desire to read "The Death of Vishnu", read "You Just Don't Understand: Men and Women in Conversation" instead, and also attend a writer's conference this weekend.

Another sip of tea and I turn on my computer to see if I've any new messages in the last seven hours.

I smile at my bra and kurta on the sofa, and the memory of Zi saying i was like a little child taking my clothes off whenever and whenever I wanted.

A text from Zi: Good morning, whachaupto.
My answer: Reading blogs about writing, getting excited about the conference, and drinking tea.

I don't tell him about the nightmare.

Spent an hour surfing the internet, made more tea, ate a banana, Zi called me on his lunch break, and we talked for about twenty minutes. Awww. <3


***

Ok. I totally raunched this day out. It's 1:42pm and I've spent all that time researching sex toys, sex fantasies, and watching homemade porn that Zi and I made together. It's so lovely. I love watching us together. Bliss.


But now it's definitely shower time!

***

I combine the shower time with making a video for Zi -- if you know what I mean; ate some yogurt; and then finally made it out the door for Castle shopping. :)

***

Had a successful trip to Castle. Saw some neat toys and bought some new lube to try out. Went to a different store and got a wireless router from Goodwill. We'll see what it does.

When I got home, Zi was waiting for me on Skype. <3 We chatted and shared links to dildos and amateur porn and laughed about "you Americans and your sweets" while he was eating a cupcake. :) After we hung up from our video chat session, my landlord came by to tell of parking lot resurfacing and fixed my wobbly doorknob. And then I watch a video of myself that I made for Zi (for educational purposes) on the subject of masturbation, and got hot and bother. So, I made another video showing him what I wanted to do when we next met. :) I sent it thru Skype and started watching a movie on Netflix, still on the living room floor in my bra and panties.

"Plan B" -- great Spanish movie.

After Zi watched the new video I sent him, we chatted through Skype for a bit, said good night, and then I finished off the movie.

I decided, at 9pm, that I hadn't eaten anything but fruit, yogurt and cinnamon rolls today, so I made myself a bowl of brown rice, black beans, salsa, and cheddar cheese. mmmm.... protein. Oh. Also Mango-Orange-Banana juice.

I paid bills. Ug. Back to nothing again, and it's only the 3rd of the month. Talk about living on the edge.

Tomorrow is Bhangra Dance, work, and a little girl's birthday potluck at a friend's house. I'll stay a little while, and then get home to pack for my long weekend trip. Wednesday night=conference prep.

Thursday morning=load van, last minute 'anythings', go pay my daughter's tuition, work, gas up van -- with the last of the money for awhile -- and head to Portland.

Return from conference and our regular scheduled programming on Sunday afternoon night -- with a teeny chance of that extending until Monday morning, depending on my visit with may uncle and cousin.

I'd like to bring my uncle a token gift for hosting me. I don't know anything about him.

What should I get him?

And now it is midnight. Time for me to close my eyes. I'll head off and brush my teeth, and I'm so tired right now that I don't have that empty-bed-sadness. Also. No funk. All Day. So, good for me!

I can do it! <3
I love my Zi!
He makes everything better.
Just his presence. Just him being alive.

Huh. :) Just for a moment there, I smelled him in the living room. Not his cologne scent, but him. 
Maybe he's dreaming of me right now.
At 3am.
In New Jersey.

Good night, All!

Took a Hit

I fuck up so easily.

It seems no matter what I do, I make people unhappy.

When that happens, sometimes I want to throw in the towel and just say, "Ok, I guess I just need to re-double my efforts at being authentic. Living by my guts, my feelings, my intuition -- what feels right in the moment. I'm going to disappoint people anyway, so why not feel truthful and real while doing it?" ("If I hide myself wherever I go, am I ever really there?"~BareNaked Ladies)

And other times, when it's clear I've put my foot in it again and hurt the man I love, I want to re-double my efforts *there* -- and re-commit to focusing solely on Zi.

He sacrifices for me. Why can't I sacrifice for him? What's the difference? Monogamy would be a sacrifice. Not touching and snuggling with another man while Zi's in NJ would be a sacrifice. But one I'm willing to offer.

I want Zi. I crave the life I imagine with him. But Aashik said something to me yesterday, about getting to know him. And I wonder if it's true that I don't know him. Enough. Enough to build a life with. How is it that I love him so bracingly, so "fire in the belly", so unconditionally and completely that I'd be willing to commit to monogamy -- but not "know" him?

What do you need to know about a person before deciding you love them?

What they're like when they fight?
What they look like when they cry?
If they sex you up to a place where you get all melty inside and you never want to feel another cock inside you but his?
When you want to carry their child in your womb and make them a daddy? And *see* them with that child?

Is it then? Is that when you know them enough to love them?
Is that knowing them at all?




It feels different now.

Zi and I spoke yesterday (texted and Skyped), and while the conversation started out with name calling (apparently I am "insensitive and self-absorbed") and that he didn't want to be in a monogamous relationship with me if this is what it looked like, we ended with both of us apologizing and with us going back to where we left off when he left my town after this last visit -- monogamously Trying with all our combined mightiness to make Us work. Chock this up to one more challenge. Roll with the punches.

But it still feels different.
Even though Zi has said nothing has changed.
Only that if I can see men socially (platonically) -- including J (someone I have a short history with) -- then he will start seeing women socially, too.

But it still feels like something is wrong.
Not quite right.
Like something's gonna happen.

Back and Forth.

Late last night, Zi and I talked some more. We cried on Skype and I ended up voicing things I'd previously felt uncomfortable saying -- like, I don't want you to date other women but I want to be able to date J -- even though it screams inequality. And, "I'm polyamorous," even though I was terrified he'd leave, saying it was all just too hard to deal with.

He didn't. He said, "In order for this relationship to work, one of us needs to sacrifice. Let me be the one, because you are not able to right now." So we left it with him not dating other women and me able to date others without limit to the style of relationship. Him trying (re-doubling his efforts) to get back to Eugene (or at least the NW) in the next two months, and him moving in with me.

I felt happy, secure, loved and trusted. I went to J's after that, had sex and talked about family and relationships and books and art and the colors we see when we fuck.

Then.

Zi called me this morning angry and hurt and scared and telling me he didn't think I loved him. It was terrible. I had no idea what to do. It was like watching him get hit by a car and die right in front of me. I just held him with my words and my spirit over the phone waves and hoped against all hope that he felt it.

We hung up, I went to a chiro appt, I drove to work, I texted him, he texted back that maybe I just didn't love him the way he loved me (admitting, at least, that he believed I did love him), I worked my shift and then called him right afterwards. We talked some more. He apologized for "going off" on me, and that he wasn't angry with me, just at the situation. He's been asking me to write down for him what exactly I want from him, and what exactly I can give him (also in the range of best case scenario of him living in eugene, to the worst case scenario of us breaking up and just being friends, what did i consider the next level above us just being friends.) So. Homework from him. Which I'm glad to do. It helps me know myself better (and serves Aashik's need to learn more about me.)

The next to last worst case scenario regarding Aashik and I would be me committing to a monogamous relationship with him. Back to square one. No evolving. No personal growth or exploration for me. But. In return, love. Being in love. (Something I didn't end up having for my soon to be ex.) The best cock ever. Being worshipped. Never doubting his love for me (like I did with my s.t.b.ex.) And fun exotic dreams for the future with a man that makes me feel like no other does.

I hung up feeling a little bit better in heart .... went to my writer's critique group meeting and when I got home we Skyped. He again reiterated his apologies and the previous days proposal of him not dating anyone else for now and that I can have freedom to date whomever I choose, "and we'll see what happens. See? I'm using your words. I'm trying to be more like you. Because if I don't, I'll break. I'll go crazy."

I felt so uneasy. On the one hand, he was giving me exactly what I asked for. But on the other .... the skin around his eyes looked fake. He smiled with his lips and not his mouth. It looked false ... and like he was already cracking.

We talked more. And more. And more. (I'm getting nothing done within the rest of the my personal life. I've dropped everything to fix this.) And I finally got (again) to a place where I trust his words. He loves me, he's not leaving me, he's trying to get a job in the NW .... and he accepts me for who I am. And we'll see.

That last part causes me anxiety.
And when I share that with him, he smiles.
But not maliciously.
And says, "Now you know how I feel. What was that? 3 seconds you felt that? I've felt it for a whole *week.*"

So we'll see.

I Miss Zi so much I Feel Insane.

I'm feeling beat up today. My head hurts from crying ... and probably not drinking enough water. And stress. And too much on my plate right now. And not having a regular schedule in which to do anything. I feel like I'm behind on everything -- making hotel reservations in Sunriver, now one for Portland, making flight reservations for Massachusetts, signing up for the Willamette Writers Conference (and the hotel reservations for that, too) and and and and and and. It goes on and on.

Faerieworlds Festival is this weekend. The Summer Solstice. Something to celebrate. But I don't feel much like celebrating.

I'm tired.

Probably not a great time to write. When I'm tired. Everything seems bigger and more dramatic when I'm tired.

Zi and I have been talking A LOT about our relationship these past two days. I feel like I have monumentally let him down. Why did I fall in love with a monogamous man? This is so painful for him, and consequently painful for me as well. Empathically I feel his pain. And frustration. And disappointment.

We both want to be together. We both love each other. We both feel an immense physical connection.
But.
He's not here.
So now what do we do?
What kind of relationship can we create with our distance that will allow us both to feel ok?

I told Zi today that one of my bottom lines in any relationship I was in right now was the freedom to connect with other men if I felt called to it. I may not. I may be monogamous in lifestyle (if not in heart) for *years* before running into someone I felt a connection with and wanted to follow it where it lead. But I needed to freedom to be able to go there. I think things happen for reasons and we meet people for those same reasons. If I meet you on my life path, it's for a reason, and I want to get to know you long enough so that I can figure out the why of that.

Zi says we hadn't talked about this before (but I know we have). Maybe it was another case of me saying and meaning one thing and him hearing it a different way than I meant. Connotations of words has suddenly become a big deal for us. We have resolved to be very clear with each other about what the meanings of our words means.

For instance,
I emailed Zi earlier today about changing my Facebook profile picture. Zi is very careful about his appearance on the internet and never shares anything personal online. He's uncomfortable with me putting up pictures of him, tagging his name on anything, or even on me writing on his Wall. He wants all communication to be private. Ok. (I'm am not a private person at all, so the concept has taken some getting used to :) but it's one that I honor because it is important to him.)

So, a couple of the pictures I took of him this past weekend were so beautiful of us, I altered them so that just partial face shots of him were there. I emailed them to him and asked which one I could put up (a couple days ago, he had said I could ... I just wanted to give him an option of which one looked better to him). And here was his emailed reply:

These pictures are good. But in light of some of the recent developments in your personal life, I am not comfortable with you posting these pics.

We  always talked about our relationship and how we had agreed to keep your other relationships invisible. But now, with our circumstances changing...let me be the "invisible man" in your life.

Will always love you


I don't even know what that means. :( "In light of some of the recent developments in your personal life"? Does he mean that because I have listed J, on FB, as someone I'm in a relationship with now, Zi doesn't want to be acknowledged as my boyfriend at all? To anyone? He wants to be "invisible" now?
Why?


And the reference to keeping my other relationships invisible, that was a very specific scenario. That referred only to if Zi and I were married and if I found someone I wanted to connect with on the side (once or twice a week), it would have to be kept from our mutual circle of friends and his family. My friends could know though. But only the closest, most discretionary ones. Like T. So his reference in the email doesn't apply to us right now at all. (I wonder why he brought it up.)


So, does the fact that J and I are publicly dating mean that Zi is embarrassed to be with me? Like he's the "other man" or something? I'm proud of Zi. He's amazing and awesome and I want the world to know how much in love I am with him! And he wants to be my secret? I don't understand that. I hope that I'm wrong and have misunderstood his email. It's too late (time difference) to call and talk to him about it. So I am forced to wait and worry tonight until he can respond to this posting tomorrow.


I love Zi. So much!


He calls me "my queen." He washes my hair and my feet and looks into my soul with eyes that burn through my flesh, and drips into me like molasses. He curves his skinny legs around mine and cups his fingers around my ass, lingering, and bites me.


His energy sinks into my aura when we hug and he rubs his face into mine when I cry.


When we spend time together, his scent changes -- mingles with mine, reacts to mine. He alternately says he can't live without me and we have to figure out how to live and love long-distance so it can stay passionate and real and fulfilling ..... and then trips into the dank hole of giving up and says he fears he'll never see me again.


He pays attention to me. He thinks of me when we aren't together. He is sexually attractive to me and me to him. SO MUCH. Our sex is amazing. The best I've ever had -- and I've had sex with *many* men.


He gets me.
He knows me.
Inside and out.
He loves me.
He cooks for me and treats me like a precious commodity.
I'm fascinated by him: he's foreign, exotic, has a beautiful soul, and he speaks to me in Urdu.
He stands up to me. He's dominant. *And* submissive. 
He accepts that I'm poly (tho I'm saddened to think that this is changing for him as I type this).
He aches for me.
He misses me when I'm not there.
He loves my body and my smell.


I'm so in love with him.


And I'm so afraid for us.
I'm watching him crack.
Via Skype.


When Zi is here, he is all I think about. He is all I want. Forever. That's what I feel in the moment. In that moment. Like I could drown in him forever. Only him. In my head, I know that this can't be true. Even if we were married and saw each other every blessed day, I know that eventually (maybe not for seven years, or maybe seven weeks) I will run into someone that I want to know more about and it might turn into something romantic. But in my soul and heart, while I am with Zi, he's all I want. It's so beautiful.
It's a drug. And I want more and more of it. His skin and mine. Together. Every day.


But he's not here. :( And I ache for him.
Terribly. 
Especially when we are both going through such difficult times (with the distance and my new relationship with J) and I want to hold Zi tight and stroke his forehead and touch his skin that I miss so so much. I miss Zi so much I feel insane.


What's going to happen to us? Will our relationship be relegated to chatting online everyday and only seeing each other twice a year? I can't be sustained on that as my primary relationship. And neither can Zi. 


I entertain thoughts of 'maybe I am monogamous'. But is that just me trying to be something that Zi wants me to be? And not me being authentic? 


Whatever I am, I think it is safe to say that: I mostly prefer to expend my emotional and romantic energy on one person, but right now I'm allowing myself to display affection, sex, and love to more than one.


I'm willing to do this because I'm sad. And lonely. And I need skin to touch. 
I want to trace the contours of a man's face. A soul to hold. Affection from a man.
Since Zi isn't here, I wish to do them with J.


And I hope hope hope that Zi is really ok with that, and that we can get past this storminess.


I talked to J on the phone tonight, and cried about Zi to him. I asked J if it hurt him when I was feeling so sad for Zi. J said that it didn't. At all. That he was surprisingly ok with my heart being big enough to love more than one. :) So sweet. So understanding. He said, "Pain is the tariff we owe for having big hearts." And for me to never feel guilty for feeling. Because, he said, he would much rather know someone who felt deeply (including pain), than someone who didn't feel at all because they'd stuffed it.


We also talked about us not wanting to get emotionally attached to one another because of his eventual move for (wait for it ...) a job. But. It's a little too late. The emotions are there. And they are rapidly attaching. Sigh. (What is the universe trying to tell me with having me fall for monogamous men who are,  or will be moving, out of state?)(*head smack*)


J said he thinks about that everyday (his job search that could take him out of state) and sometimes even panics about it. But he is determined to not get stuck in the places where he doesn't have any control, but to stay and say, "You know what? Right now, in this moment, I have joy and love and a great new person in my life. I have no idea where it will go, but for right now I'll just be with her. And live. And laugh. And Process."


I think those are wise words.


So I'd like to say that to both Zi and J. 


"Right now, in this moment, I have joy and love. I have no idea where it will go, but for right now, I'll just be with you."


Sweet Dreams.

weekend bliss and bittersweetness

Aashik is playing "Werewolf" by Cat Power and making breakfast for me and the kids. He spontaneously bought a $700 ticket to come see me on Thursday night. It's Saturday now. He leaves Monday night. I'm ecstatic, sad, hopeful, and in that weird holding your breath place. We are consciously being in the now.

"I'm not leaving, in the now," he said this morning. And I cried.

We acknowledge our intense love and connection ... and wonder what it's for if we can't be together. Are we supposed to design our own kind of relationship? What should we call it? What should we call each other? (There are those 'shoulds' again...)

"I love you. You're so beautiful," he said and touched my chin.

Wrapped in each other's arms this morning, we whispered.
We whispered about our fears
And our dreams
And our hopes that we aren't ready to give up on.
We whispered about our love, and our desires, and I cried and grinded my hips into his and he kissed away my tears.

I'm fraught with confusion and pain and gratitude.
Confusion for what this tearing apart of us is for -- because there must be a reason for the Universe's cruelty; Pain for the separateness that it seems we must live right now; and gratitude for my lover's kindness and love and devotion.

I don't want to talk about the future here right now.
It's uncertain. And scary.
And stubbornly still hopeful.
I have optimism for us.
We will always be connected -- no matter what.
We will always love each other -- no matter what.
We will always be in each other's lives -- no matter what.

We just don't know how that will manifest.

Uncertainty

Zi keeps making sounds like he's leaving. He gave thirty days notice at his apartment, with no future plans. I keep holding out hope that he's not leaving, and that he'll stay with me while he looks for work. He can't leave. I need him. I want him.

He asked me.
He did.
He asked me to come to India with him.
He said I'd live like a queen. Literally.
He'd take care of me and cook for me everyday and make me tea.
He wants me.
He loves me.

I want to go with him. To follow him.
But I can't leave the kids.

Zi and I cried together.
He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave me behind.
He said so.

Body Blow

Zi lost his job today.
We're both terrified that he'll need to move now in order to find a job.
Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

We cried together this afternoon.
He said that he loved me and he always had -- since the first day he met me. That he'd been dreading this day, but that he'd just hoped it would have been much later.

That sounded an awful lot like a good-bye. :(

More later.