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Causality, Luck, Fate or Chance November 27, 2009

Posted by attainingme in Random Stories.
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Some of us turn our heads and some of us engage. I am one that engages.

A stranger. Or a cause of events, particularly bad luck. Cancelled flights. Flat tires. Crowded coffee shops. Lonely holidays. And I search those that I encounter. Their words. Not blinded by sight, age, or situations. For I believe, nothing happens by chance.

And so my life remains interesting. Often others are baffled. The walls in which I sit now left Julie’s mouth agape. But then, she laughed, “You have the craziest life. And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

And so, did I mention The Man at the airport? A cancelled flight followed by being denied access to the admiral’s club since my membership was months expired. Hours later, I returned to the secured door. And was accepted. No, I didn’t renew my membership, but we all have our ways. The eyes of the lady who refused me shot daggers in my back.

Upon entrance, chairs away, there was a Man. Followed be a lunch, a ferrari and some common similarities. And now a week later, a purchased ticket for me to return to San Juan to meet again. I thought it was just a Sunday night dinner. But a text now reads, “Bring your passport. You need it Monday.”

A script plays through my head. The words to explain that I am not one to be bought. My penniless struggle, my tears, and the suffocation I currently encounter would make such an offer hard to refuse. But refuse I will.

However, the world is not black and white. I will not simply slam the door.

I will search for another . . .

I was not built to break November 23, 2009

Posted by attainingme in A., Introspective, Work & Career.
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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

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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.
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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.

Stuck November 2, 2009

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We all have all tolerances and those that we cannot stomach. A trip to New York, originally intended to be 7 days. Transformed into almost a month. I return to San Juan. A place I still call home, despite the truth I can no longer hide from– that it no longer is. I hold on to it. My pinky wrapped around the balloon’s ribbon. The ballon seemingly deflated.

I come. Bearing a smile. Justifications. However, countless events have worn that smile, washed it thin. Unrecognizable.

Friday 10/30 The flight arrives at 12am. No one to welcome me. An airport within ten minutes, yet no friend to find. I arrive to my apartment. Carry my bags. My dog. To the second floor foyer outside my apartment. I climb the roof and squeeze through a window 1′ x 1′ over the stove as my keys lay inside. A rotting body so it smells. My hand against the cement wall to turn on the luz, to no avail. Fuck it. I have been here before. The company didn’t pay the bills. And worse yet, Friday. No hope for reversal until Monday.

Sigh. At least I am utterly exhausted. I go to collect my bags. The dog is gone. My heart races and I run frantically outside to the heavily trafficked “Ocean Drive.” Luckily a woman holds him. She was going to take him home. Thank god the Subway worker instructed her that he was mine. Flaca’s (the skinny girl who lives above.)

I lay my head. Tomorrow awaits. The first day that I can regain my routine. My horse. My workouts. My gym. The morning welcomes me. Yet no hour exists. No phone. No power. I take a coffee at said Subway. Charge my phone. The only spinning class is minutes away. I depart. Until the company car won’t start. As I shut the door, so does the blood in finger. Stuck in the locked door.

A $12 cab to the gym. A glorious workout. But, my finger throbs. Breathe. Calm. Like the celebrity’s tattoo.

I arrive back home. To recall that the hood of company car is quite broken. And the mechanic a month ago couldn’t open. The battery. The life. The heart that needs to be resuciated before the power and freedom that awaits me is guarded, unreachable. And my heart numbs. I search for perspective. The lesson in misfortunes. The strength.

Now I still search. As I sit. Feeling homeless. A bag of candles in my bag. A mile from home. At starbuck’s that closes in but twenty minutes. I pray for the power to revitalize my phone. My mind to collect so I can finish my work. 17 minutes.

Breathe.

And simply, I have no tolerance for stuck.

Loving “me” October 29, 2009

Posted by attainingme in Bicoastal Living- (however, not bicoastal), DON'T FALL FOR ME, Work & Career.
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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.
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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.
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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.

Teterboro waits – Meet A September 5, 2009

Posted by attainingme in Bicoastal Living- (however, not bicoastal), Love & Dating, Random Stories.
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Spontaneity and simplicity is incredibly sexy.

Wednesday. A perfectly mixed cocktail of excitement, nerves and fear pulsed through my body–a body whose shape has never been better. Perfect, some say.

A body that has yet to become acquainted with ‘A’, but whose mind is intrigued.  I have never met a man like A. 33. Incredibly successful. Laidback. Funny. And doesn’t give anything away. Translation= I really have no idea how he feels. I met him through my bestest friend and ex, P, in New York. Upon meeting A, he suggested I stay with him for a month as nonchalantly as asking the time. Our first three interactions were comfortable and full of smiles. And then I returned to Puerto Rico. 

———

Weeks of loneliness and disconnection and a remembrance of so many of the words that fill this blog, so many of the emotions that are highlighted in a double life. And I realized how much a catalyst a double life is for loneliness and here I was, facing it, yet again. 

My first conversations with ‘A’ after leaving New York taught me that I would not relive the fibers of my past long distance romances.

This realization perhaps bore an apathy. And infrequent messages passed between A and I. I, as guilty, if not more than he.  And then A texted, “I think about you constantly. I miss you.”

Tuesday, he bought me a ticket . . . so we could have dinner Wednesday before he left for Europe. $700 for a couple of hours. Practical, no? But oh how I love.

Perhaps the scenario should conjure images of dinner at Per Se. Dressed to the nines, Louboutins, Him, a suit and tie. My long hair cascading perfectly. But no . .

 

I arrived. To his apartment alone. Another houseguest. A college friend. A, the buddy and I, in my white tank, jeans, and leather Varvatos, go to a low-key dinner. We laugh, we enjoy–as if this is how it has always been. And I would have it no other way.

Sure, I long for his thoughts. I want him to tell me he is crazy about me. Give something away. Barely.

He does however, recant the words of his text and how great it is to think about me, how wonderful to anticipate. We will give “us” a go. I can fly every week. Wednesday through Friday so we can get to know each other–date. And those five minutes were as much as I received.

His flight the next morning seemed to magically not exist. The hours passed and his trip to the office and the plans I made, seemed to fade away. At 2pm he finally left. At 5pm, he was headed home to pack for his flight that evening. I returned at 7pm. TV, Pizza and the buddy. Hours melted into the evening. Sleep took me. And the next morning, A was still there. By my side. Hesitant to leave.  No words were given.

And I can only wonder did A and the private jet wait 36 hours because of me. . . .

Return September 5, 2009

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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.