I pull closer. I cannot get close enough. My body is yearning for yours. I can feel you inside me. A wave of calm mixed with a resurgence of sexual energy,
My mind and my movements take on a prowess. I feel seductive, sexy and . . . free. My sensuality had been on an extended sabbatical. Hello again 😉
I drive over the bridge. Unfortunately, my sensuality has only returned in my thoughts. The dance with my lover/my companion has been postponed. The “to be continued,” still pending.
The saboteur. I am.
Yesterday, I recalled my typed words–my request of myself to not sabotage my reunion with Caballito. I knew he wouldn’t call me until after the gym circa 9pm. However, my vulnerability demanded that I distract myself. Not wait on his call. Avoid wondering why he will not make concrete plans with me, secure seeing me, and the corresponding pain that I am not a priority.
I acknowledge that a woman, a relationship, falls second in his value hierarchy. I acknowledge that this does not reflect his emotions for me and the amount he cares. He simply cares about himself more.
Sigh, the traits of a Mr. Unavailable. I complain, but these traits are also my safety.
I initially hung out with the Artist, escaping the pain of waiting on a ring. I dropped off the artist who has fallen for me, who does cute things. Who shines a light on the failed actions of my Caballito. I left the Artist hoping to see Caballito. I received a call from my father, family circumstances. I called Caballito, tears building, he didn’t answer.
The Trainer called me thereafter, as I was driving, looking for a place to cry. And, he said, “Come here.” PS. I barely know him. When Caballito called back, I was already driving to the Trainer, the Stranger. To cry.
I told Caballito I just needed to drive. I was upset and that we would talk tomorrow– which is today.
SUBTERFUGE. At least, it wasn’t SABOTAGE . .
The current summary of my peripheral men are the following:
1) The Artist– new man who I have spent time hanging out with. As friends, in my mind. As more, in his. Nothing has happened physically so I assure myself that we are just friends. Yet I can see that look in his eyes. He is on a high. He is a puppet, and I hold the strings.
2) The Lawyer- I attended a Grammy winner’s birthday with him on Tuesday. he has written me these texts since:
“ATTAININGME- I WANT THAT YOU LIVE WITH ME IN MY HOUSE I LIKE YOU A LOT MY BMW IS WAITING FOR YOU.” The text before said this “ I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER ALMOST FOREVER GOOD LUCK”
Haha. I met this guy at a business meeting. He is the opposite of what his texts make him out to be. He was so shy when we first met. Couldn’t even look at me. And, when I was friendly, as I normally am, he told me he has never fallen in love at first sight before. He thinks we should get married. What’s really sick is I am pretty sure he is serious.
This will go nowhere. I include him to illustrate the contrast in courtship.
3) MattDamon- A character in this blog since its inception. A coffeeshop acquaintance in New York who fell for me. I toyed around with giving him a shot. Yet, couldn’t as my feelings weren’t quite there. I wanted them to be. This has been on a hiatus as my days are in PR and he lives in NY. This was Jan 1st’s email:
“What I do know and it was confirmed to me last night is that I miss you despite my repeated attempts to forget you. Even though I was hosting yet another great party with my some of my closest friends – when midnight came and went – I had a moment of sadness instead of joy because you weren’t there to share it with me. Then I even became a little angry because you hadn’t texted, called or replied to my last email . . .
So when I ask you to tell me what you want – I’m really asking you to have the courage to tell me what you already know but haven’t directly said.
If you like me but are afraid of getting close because in your mind that equates to a relationship and I’m not someone you envision as a boyfriend – then say that.
If you don’t have any greater feelings beyond wanting me to be your friend – then say that.
If you miss me as much I miss you and want to see what comes of it – then say that.
Personally I’d rather have this conversation while sitting on a beach, holding you and watching the sunset but I guess an email will have to do for now.”
4) KidRobot- One of the first men I dated in New York. Now, my oldest friend. He came to Christmas with me. These are his current words:
“Why do I miss you so much? What’d you do to me?”
and then, “I also don’t want to go out. I really miss sleeping next to you and wish I could roll over and wrap myself around you.”
Mind you, the Christmas week we shared a bed, we didn’t even share an embrace. Not even spooning.
5) The Trainer- for now, a new friend.
6) Rediscoveringme– On a good note, I ended this yesterday. It’s been many months, yet he still texts me, how much he needs my body, how much he misses me. I told him I needed more. Goodbye, my soulmate.
I will stop here. This is too depressing. Blah. I am horrible. A horrible horrible person. Mark was right. “You make people your world. And they become addicted . . . ” 😦 We can all deal with Attainingme’s issues later. People always assume I am afraid of getting hurt. No, I am afraid, of hurting others. Deathly afraid. I stay far, guarding my kisses. Yet, I still hurt.
My kisses however are extended to one, Caballito. The one who cares the least. The one who is safe . . .
. I miss him. I want him. I am craving his cock. His voice. His laugh. Crystal-light.