I was not built to break November 23, 2009
Posted by attainingme in A., Introspective, Work & Career.Tags: Motivation, strength, Whitney Houston, Will
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My breath cannot breathe. Suffocated by the inertia that surrounds me, the lies I have learned. A fog envelops me this morning, the bed beckons me. But it offers no true refuge, an escape escapes me.
I reach, I reach deep into my heart. And I plead, I plead for my inner will. I search for the strength so seemingly eluding. The mountain’s face continues to loom. I am so tired of climbing. Disbelief at the challenges that face me.
I think of my life. The world that I dance on top of. The black ferrari in which I sat as we flew down the FDR. The check. The meetings. The movies. The sphere of the influential and the famous building in which I now sit. The surface so vastly different than the truth and the maze in which consumes my heart. To be on the brink of something so great. My energies question their ability to continue. But, I know. I know that this is not forever.
And I return to working on eliciting the change in which I desire. The cement to the world my toes are immersed in . . .
And I listen to Whitney Houston’s, “I Didn’t Know My Own Strength.”
And I pick myself back up.
Hold my head up high.
I was not built to break.
Present November 17, 2009
Posted by attainingme in Uncategorized.Tags: dating, friendship, living on the now, love
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My toes immersed in sand, I milk these moments and particularly this one for I travel to New York tomorrow. A heart torn. A desire to be both here and there. I want to clone myself. I relish this desire. The affirmation that I am living life, that I am present. Preferred to a depression where I long to not exist.
Memories play in my mind as I soak up the sun. My tanned body in an ocean of cold in the trip that awaits me. His words. My pleasure. My contentment with our friendship. A recollection of the jolt that reverberated through my limbs as our sweaty arms momentarily touched. His hand on my back as he motioned me to change directions.
Our run last night as much of the world prepared to retire.
The streets were ours. We ran side by side. As friends. Speaking of relationships. His realizations that his new ex was justified in her actions. I fought my desire to disagree. I relish his disappointment at my leaving and I wish I weren’t. I fear that a new friend will replace our frequency in my abscence. But I don’t allow that fear to paralyze or concern me. I smile. My S.
Seeing me November 16, 2009
Posted by attainingme in Love & Dating, S., Soulmates.Tags: Being friends, dating, fate, love, misperceptions, Soulmates, timing
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If only you knew the thoughts I think of you. As we run, your steps behind me, my uncle’s words scroll through my mind. How much you awoke me? No one has affected me as you did. And you have no clue. Newly single. My S. I filed my feelings for you many months ago. But they remain proven by the color of my cheeks and the light in my eye when I speak of you . . .
And now you are here. And my words locked. My heart longs for us to get to know each other without the dance we once danced. The me you misread. Hopes that rooms will be filled with our laughter, that you will see the me that everyone else sees. I remember your head on my lap, the ocean screaming in through my windows, my fingers tracing letters, S + D on your perfectly scuplted back. A moment has never been so intimate as hours past, and words not said. I loved you in that moment. But it was post our sealed fate.
Now I think about tonight. A run should the rain not recommence. And I think of the girl that shows up at your door. And I wonder is it the girl that people fall for? Or in the process of hiding, masking my once hurt heart, I am someone else . . .
I can only hope that I deliver me. That our friendship grows. My faith is in timing, for ours is not now. I am gone too much and you too newly single. To the exploration of ourselves, in seeing through our friendship if their is an us beyond what never was.
Loving “me” October 29, 2009
Posted by attainingme in Bicoastal Living- (however, not bicoastal), DON'T FALL FOR ME, Work & Career.Tags: courtship, New York, passion, work
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Passion, I lacked. Passion, I have now found.
A new company. Almost ready to cut the threads to the other. The job I have juggled and responsibilities that were often fruitless while hours of work for mine awaited me. My company has gone from 0 mph to 60. And I sit, in awe at all. Names that are in the press everyday. Perhaps, my photos as well.
A move back to New York. A sudden departure without a goodbye to Puerto Rico. Passion, cold and coats in exchange for the balance and the sand that my toes miss. The orbits around me now have threads from years past. Strangers and past admirers. And courtship. Interesting men. But, my mind is focused on the new company. What a healthy place to be, as I have this power and comfort to not be burdened by anything that is not effortless. I still find myself dancing with the men who paint such an amazing picture, the men I tend to not fall for . . .
From Copenhagen: “You wake up at a slightly silly hour and a flood of ‘oh I should have done that yesterday’ thoughts pepper your mind and wake you up further.. You get up from bed and walk to where I have set up your laptop, on the work desk next to everything one needs to work (muji pencils, papers, post-its et al) . Of course, like you its already on and you can walk to it in the dark as the swirl of its screen saver gives your eyes a beacon. I may have been dimly aware that you got up..when I do wake up an hour later, I don’t question your absence but raise my head to hear your fingers on the keyboard and I relax my face back on the pillow. When I DO get up, I respect your focus with silence. I put on my gown and put on the kettle.. I make your tea the way you like it (or is coffee that you like on a weekend? tell me) and bring it to you. You don’t look up but you know what is coming from the times before: I place the mug next to your hand as my other hand strokes and raises your hair from you and I kiss the back of your neck just where it slopes down to your shoulders, before gently laying your hair back again… You dont even have to thank me as I know that at some point, when you are done, I’ll see your smile walking towards me on the sofa, good morning hug at the ready”
Awwww, if only. I could fall. The man who penned those words truly gets me.
Who needs a boyfriend when you have a business partner . . . October 21, 2009
Posted by attainingme in Dreaming - Drawing my future, Work & Career.1 comment so far
He was my gay husband but really he is my business partner. I am not sure which one came first. But then he left me. He left for me New york and impassioned lust.
My gay husband no longer exists and those beach mornings, those dining room conversations, our intimacy, emotions and friendship seem long forgotten. And this was the hardest thing. An emotional abandonment. Threads of diatribes and outpourings of affection faded like faint swirls of smoke. The lasting memories so vague, only words . . . lost and meaningless without context.
And he never returns . . . those words. The first night, Vieques, tears almost poured down our faces. The love. It seems ill-fated.
I do. Some days. With the misses. Or the come homes.
But he, says nothing. I can only wonder. And dream. That he cares so much he can’t say anything for fear that a hole of vulnerability and tenderness that can be cured would be created. But we move forward. With our passions and our working relationship. Like a marriage. Rules. Understandings. Aggression and frustration.
But I will never forget what started it all. The subways. The pennies. The dining room table.
Everything Matters September 11, 2009
Posted by attainingme in A., DON'T FALL FOR ME, KidRobot, Love & Dating.Tags: being in love, dating, decisions, hidden personalities, love triangles
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Everything Matters . . and everything comes at once.
“It’s the image of a kid . . . a boy let’s say, sitting on the curb, looking around, slightly confused, not sure where he is or even quite who he is. And then an image of a girl, who notices him and stops. She reaches out her hand to him and he takes it. She says nothing, except with that one simple gesture she says the thing that matters most. And that’s – ‘it will be ok.’
And since then, somehow, somehow in many different ways, I have felt inexorably tied to you. Can’t deny that really – I love you even though at the same time you manage to both baffle and frustrate me.
And since then we’ve danced around each other – lovers, friends, other . .
The email continues. My heart skips beat. I laugh out loud. I smile and I also pause. He goes on to speak about a hidden me.
“Since the very beginning I started observing things about you, seeing things, and I suppose the conservationist never let go. I’m sorry – I guess it’s why I could never fully let go even when I pretended I could. I just never knew who I was falling for, so deep down without noticing I setup a natural barrier. And I waited…
I’m not sure exactly what I’ve been waiting for – I suppose a hunch that there was always something left out.”
And how he has danced around its discovery. Waiting to perhaps see and/or to not see something. I can only wonder if he was waiting to be dissuaded. Find out why I possibly wasn’t the one to love . . yet, the feelings, the dreams, and me have never left him—I, a low humming frequency in the life he leads.
I always equated his diatribes, his dissertation-like emails regarding his feelings for me to I being a placard–the justification, the excuse, that he is alone—why he breaks hearts, left and right. I always doubted this love he speaks of. We are so different. But, should it be real, I worry that I will hurt him for this apathetic New York bachelor is a façade for the man I met on that corner so many years ago. A man that still breathes somewhere underneath his hardened exterior. His words today are the first I trust. And perhaps this love he has for me is because I am the only one that knows these breaths?
I don’t know how to respond. I return to New York. To A, to new beginnings of which KidRobot does not yet know. In Puerto Rico, Caballito and I remain close, an entirely different story, one that was cemented by a tragedy . . .
And my life baffles me.
Return September 5, 2009
Posted by attainingme in Uncategorized.Tags: Inspiration
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A blue dot in my inbox. Next to the comments for a blog of which my postings have been nonexistent. The words I read hit me. They awaken a feeling that I do not encounter everyday. A feeling that I am not sure if I have had since reading past comments, and I wonder if I chase the right motivation—if my current dreams offer such power. And I thank my readers for reining my return.
And frankly I am unsure where to start. Perhaps, I should post the snippets I wrote yet failed to post over the past month. The reason I started this blog, a double life, flirts with me, yet again.
But first, for the emotions that flood me now.
Thank you Katieleigh.