This waiting game is sardonic and mean spirited. Joe has excuses on why nothing is happening always. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons I became distant. There was a lot of talk with very little follow through. Not just talk but grande talk. These last few days have really reassured me that my distrust was correct. I want to see action and proof, not just words to entwine me and lure me into commitment. I’m not that naive anymore.
It’s time to put to words what I do want. I want a friend first and foremost. I want somebody to talk to, but, more than that, I’m waiting for that instant connection. Where you meet someone and it feels like something is lining up, as I take the steps towards this person i will feel that connection. I will be able to see it in their eyes, the curiosity and attraction. That magnetism that let’s words flow and deep rivers of connection form. I want them to have an easy nature that puts thought into their day. I want them to like my children and enjoy the time they get with them without the expectation of a commitment in order to share a bond with them. I want them to show bravery and compassion. I do not want the expectation of physical intimacy, but the gradual flow towards it resulting in some built up steam when our worlds collide. I want honesty and transparency, in words and action. Someone that can grab the initiative without being dominating, that can lead and follow. I want them to be somebody I can look up to in certain ways while recognizing that our experiences are different and we are none the better for it. I want their touch to leave tingles and be readily available without being a sexual gesture. I want them to be steady on their feet.
I know that these are a lot of “I wants” and that that immediate connection doesn’t seem a reality to some, but I know it exists. Two souls can meet and know there is something there. It just really depends on what we do with it. I’ve experienced it. Galixy’s dad was like a deja vu. I’d been in that yard. I’d seen the conglomeration of people on the patio before. The 15 yards walking up felt instinctual. I didn’t know what was at the end of that path when I took the first steps, but there was no recourse. At the end of that destined walk, he looked up at me with his green eyes and broken smile from under the brim of a gray floppy fisherman’s hat. My heart flipped and my mouth spewed a jumble of words of “help me get rid of my rider.”
That day went by in a haze. I just really remember being drawn back to him and enticing him to wander off with me on multiple occasions. All in all, we may not be on speaking terms at this moment, but I ended up with a magical little human that makes me smile and laugh. I ended up being where I am because of that day and that connection.
Another time, about a year ago, I met Reckless. I’ve alluded to him, but honestly my heart hurts speaking of him. He’s my real regret, the place I can’t go back to. The connection I forfeited. I can’t even describe him, it’s so hard. He had this dangerous, mysterious, lost vibe that made me really cautious. His clear attraction to me was flattering… and embarrassing to me in a way. I really flaunted my ice queen, single mom strength and I know it made him unsure of the attraction I’d felt looking in his dark eyes. Such pomp! He cracked me up. He was the most fortunate human around that gathering, all good things and tradable ended up in his care somehow and he shared it freely with all around.
Shit, I’m crying. I kept telling myself that I have to keep my distance and let time tell, instead of listening to my gut and what I already knew. I never saw him again. I never will.
He was in Oregon or NorCal last summer. We’d just spoken and rued my inhibitions together. Supposedly there was a fight close to him. He observed a man fighting and beating his girlfriend, so, as the good guy he is, Reckless tried to intervene. This guy pulled a machete out of nowhere and killed Reckless. I can’t recall, I think they said his head was cut off.
I think about him a lot. His easy demeanor and boisterous talk are very clear in my mind. I feel like he’s close by and knows I miss him. Once i followed my nose and i was hurt deeply. The next time I move cautiously and I’m hurt just as well. I do believe there’s someone in my future who I will connect with.
I’m just so sick of men who think any connection can be romantic, or has to be. I really wish Joe would stick around, that he would actually love me for who I am and not the image he has in his mind of who I could be. I do enjoy his company, but his inaction feel all too familiar. A connection trying to be forced.
I want to take a moment to inform you, dear reader, that this insight into my mind seems very valuable to me. I dislike people assuming they understand everything about me, it feels like an invasion to me, because there are so many facets to individuals. We must take our time to get to know one another without denying ourselves either. We can enjoy each others company. Anything other than time leading us will be forced and lead to certain pain, in my observations.
It has come time for me to return to waiting for Joe. I will probably smoke and crochet this hat for atreyu I most likely screwed up. Practice makes perfect. I just wish I had more alpaca yarn to “afford” those mistakes ( turn the wrongly sized into sellable items.)
Ooooh, last night, Pat in the Hat told me he was concerned for my cat and if he could trade it for a smart phone. Ah, naw, dude. I kinda like my cat, its hilarious to watch and a good cuddler. Pat said he was concerned because I left it outside over night. I couldn’t help but laugh. That’s not real. If I had left the cat out, it woulda been coyote chow. It was the middle of the day when he crawled onto that tent, not night. My cat sleeps in bed with the kids every night and it is definitely not a real trade, a smart phone for my living being. People… *le sigh*
Anyway! Loving you! Hope you’re entertained.
If you’re immediate next “want” is to lighten your pockets, I highly recommend checking out my jewelry shinies at: facebook.com/2boysenberries
Otherwise, you could also click around my blog and find the donations page 😉
Matilda the Bugus 