Thursday, March 20, 2014

On cold, clear nights...

I may have been drinking a few fingers of Disaronno. I chased a glass of wine with them after walking along Boundary road. The city skyline looks amazing at sunset. Especially on cold nights, when the air is crispy and you can see how hard the wind picks up the waves on the inlet. Stanley park looks like an island and all my thoughts wander into where the clouds meet the ocean next to it.         This evening I've been taken away to remember past loves.  Being currently involved with someone you deeply appreciate makes you think the big thoughts... I guess.

Let just step backwards a second here. Bass player on the cruise was one of the funnest people I've spent my time with. Hands down. Not necessarily fun as in we did a lot of things, we didn't do much of anything, really. Aside from hanging out in his room, drinking beer and shooting the shit. But fuck, did he make me laugh. I remember smiling so hard sometimes, I wondered if anyone could make me feel this happy.                                                  He did help me find myself after a tough break up and I'll never really be able to fully appreciate the time we had until I'm like 80 yrs old, watching my grandbabies have babies and wistfully thinking about their future love life and all the wonderful and horrible people they will meet along their journey.      I think all the men who made an impact on me, in some way (it doesn't have to be positive here...)   will manifest themselves in some form or another in my brain. And I know from time to time, it's ok to think about them , and to let them sit there for a bit.

Currently, stripes is a consistent figure in my life and I've grown quite fond of him (as you may have guessed from my previous post...)  but I've noticed more intense moments with him.   His eyes are so dark, and intense          and he just stares at me sometimes. Like he can see into my soul and he's acknowledging it an holding onto his with his gazing rich brown irises. His face can be so serious but all I ever have the urge to do is smile at him
                            and hug him
                                        and kiss his face
                                                          and make him smile.   He acts like he may not want to , but I know he's just craving someone to coerce his lips to purse, even if all he can muster is a slight upward curve of the right corner of his mouth.  Fuck. I love it when he does that.                       I really should't, but I've grown so attracted to him, that there's this primal instinct that warns me not to get too close, even though it's already happened. I wish I could curb this unworthy feeling... this feeling of contempt for his dashing looks and endearing awkwardness. Maybe contempt isn't the right word, but I know if what he's doing works for me, how many other eligible women are chasing after his heart...      In the end, it's none of my concern.   He is amazing. No doubt about it.   He is aware of my fragile nature, of my indecisiveness, my lack of organizational skills, need for space (and alone time), and my insecurities.  And with all these in mind, he wants to be with me. He wants to hold onto my shoulders or waist as we walk down the street, he is protective of me out in public and crowded places, he enjoys being "quiet" with me at home which means cooking dinner, followed by a walk, followed by long hours of talking, followed by amazing sex, and finally   ,  eventually,    sleep.                             He wants to hug me from behind when I'm cooking dinner and enticingly kisses my neck and cheek, he likes hanging up my coat for me, he unobtrusively questions my moves in life, and never, NOT ONCE, has shown a shred of dishonesty. I like that. I like all of that, very much. I like him. Very much.