The night was lovely,
As soon as he walked in the door we wanted to inhale each other…raw attraction for months now. Sometimes you wait to see if it goes away. It’s not going away.
But we didn’t go there because we’re “developing” our bond so that we’re both emotionally happy with ourselves and feeling centered…
So, I contained the tide of passion for the next forty five minutes.
We sat on the couch, looked each other in the eye, so hot, talked about our kids, so warm and loving, opened Christmas gifts to each other on January 18 and drank peppermint tea.
We were each charmed with our mutual bestowals.
This was loving and literate foreplay between two artists. Not to lead to sex exactly, but very possibly and very mutually.
This was heart foreplay, not to be taken lightly. I kept talking and he stopped me mid-sentence and started the delicious kissing before he had to leave.
Why is he starting the kissing before he has to leave? Why?
Then he half picked me up and threw me on the couch!!!!
I felt like a startled cat and giggled like a fresh teenager.
Mind you, we’ve already been intimate, but I’m an artist. I’m a lover, an authentic, intelligent woman, warm, sensitive, deep. No regular man is going to do for me. This has to be an…
a strong body…
sweet, wonderful kisses.
I love his hair and his lips.
So….back to the story.
Wow…we had these little whisper chats with each other…
Ahhhhh, it was all good, as he lay next to me but…
He has a sort of broken heart, the kind of disconsolate, forlorn vibe that starts to sink like a rock and close the heart shutter that started to burst open.
I am… so aware of what that is.
It warns a man…don’t…go there…she will eat you alive….
I swear, I wonder if that’s what he thinks.
It could be other emotions but we women, or maybe just me, sometimes think that men are heartless.
This one isn’t. He’s a writer too.
He has to mend his broken heart and I totally, absolutely, understand
that demolished rupture, the broken mirror, the belief in self that
just says…I don’t love myself enough to love you.
I feel like a failure. I’m not good enough for you.
It’s the trouble with the world.
How epidemic is the guilt, the sorrow, the cynicism, the pain______
And the woman’s garden lies fallow.
You can march and resist all you want about this man who is supposed to be our leader who grabs and insults women. Most men are like him…not connected to their heart and addicted to something. It’s the men’s fate. Most women act from their hearts. It’s in our bodies.
I think each woman just needs to be loved by a man (or woman) with an open heart who we can love in return and I really doubt it exists.
Religion teaches men to hate women unless they marry them and then control them. Then they feel even more free to hate them.
It’s never going to work. Men are based in ego and women are based in love.