Mums the Word

Lots has been going on the last few weeks. It has been sort of difficult for me because although it’s not my drama, life has been full of it lately. Much of it I am obligated to not talk about right now. We are waiting on some things to happen before I can un-mums.

I went to my friend Michael’s Seafood Festival. I took Mr. Yummy and I had a good time. I drank a lot (for me) and ate a lot of seafood. For me that is rare also, because I am sort of grossed out at what we as humans, have done to the sea. ::green face::

I stayed an extra night at Mr. Yummy’s house after the Seafood Fest. I used to wonder if I was remembering him (us) wrong. I was telling myself it was all just a fluke, that all these years later, he couldn’t play me like his own instrument.

Yeah, not so much. He’s not just a fluke, and I wasn’t remembering incorrectly. He just does for me, that thing that no one else could ever do. I figured a lot of my old hangups out on my own, and I shared a few of them with Mr. Yummy. I think I had to in order to leave them behind. He just said, ” Oh the mind of a woman…”. And oh how true that is. I let my own thoughts, brain, wiring, get in my own way for so many years. I am happy to have moved away from that sort of thinking and reacting I used to do.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to write about the latest drama soon. I need it to be over and to move beyond it. It sucks watching other people cycle with it though. For them, it is inevitable.

Happy weekend. Pass on the love.

Amazing You

After all these years, I am almost ashamed that I crammed so many of the wonderful essences that make you, you, into a dark corner of my mind and literally tried to forget them. I think it was because it hurt too much to see what I wasn’t ready for, and walked ran away from.

But I couldn’t have totally forgot, because I knew that I loved you like no other, knew that I never would find what I had with you, with another, and never got over you. I mean NEVER. Not a single day went by that I didn’t think of you. Sometimes I would become wistful, others, hurt, others, angry, but always there was love.

I’ve just come home from you. You are by now on your motorcycle, heading East and I am at home, smelling you and your shower on me in the most delicious way. My heart feels so full, like it’s dripping just for you and me. My eyes are moist and I have this urge to just let it go and escape as the residual effects of you, course through me.

Does any of this make sense? And will I ever tell you of these moments, or let you know of these privately public musings of you? You make my whole body tremble, and I always finish by kissing your third eye. Do you notice this?

Did I have to fall in love with humanity as a whole, in order to able to have this falling in love with you? Even though I never totally fell out of love with you? It could remain unspoken for eternity, and I would still know it. I see how you look at me, and feel how you touch me, in the simplest acts; like bandaging my finger after cracking crab, or how you wash me in the shower. Ever so tender, loving, and attentive.

There is still a small part of me that is scared shitless, because you make me want it all. I don’t mean the dress and the name, but I mean your heart and your soul; forever. Till the day your body, or my body takes the last breath. Even then, I will continue loving you, and I know this. I’m not so much scared that you will never feel the same, it’s more so the absence of the fear of believing that I don’t deserve you or you will find out somehow I am a fraud. I know that I have shown you who I really am. This, feels rather ballsy, for lack of a better word.

I remain so fucking grateful.

Thank-You.

 

Why I Want To Give You So Much Space…

You go where no man has gone before.

I want to be your final frontier.

Flashbacks

They come and go.

Some are sweet and innocent and some, are not.

Most leave me shaking my head in amazement and I continue to be grateful.

From the very first time I was near him, (He was sticking his head out of a ceiling above me on a construction site) his smell stabbed me in the brain. He wears a different cologne these days, but I still smell HIM. He still stabs me in the brain.

I like coming home and having moments where I miss him. I don’t think we ever really had that before. Not till I went to Alaska and then, it became tragic because we broke up.

I am so overwhelmed with emotion that when I drove home last Saturday, I cried for at least the last ten miles. Not sad, just…joy.

It is delicious, delicious coffee time.

How Strange Was That?

I left some things behind at Mr. Yummy’s house when I left Saturday morning. He informed me last night when I text him. We just met so I didn’t have to drive all the way out to his house. He lives North of Seattle and I live South of Seattle, so it’s a drive. He picked, of all places, Lawson Harley.

Lawson Harley is next to the old rice grinder showroom floor, where The Face Breaker was injured on the indoor track, sending him into a coma and TBI (traumatic brain injury). This is where TFB was buying his scooter, but Lawson Harley is where he sold his bike, not too long before he broke my face.

I parked my car, walked in and looked for Mr. Yummy. Once I saw him, I said hello and thanked him. I was standing in the showroom with all these pretty, beautiful and gorgeous machines and all I saw, was Mr. Yummy. We stopped for a minute while he looked at a bike and I glanced out the window. I could see the Face Breaker and myself in the parking lot. He was being his usual selfish and self-centered self and for a change I had a smile on my face. In the vision I saw, I was smiling because I knew that one day, I would be meeting Mr. Yummy in the same said store, because I left some of my clothes at his house after spending a night with him. The fact that the night was something the Face Breaker could never have pulled off in a zillion years, is so amazingly…glorious to me. TFB and I used to fuck, not to be graphic, but that is all it was. Almost every time we fucked, I felt like some bitch in his porno clips. ONE time, after we broke up and he was trying to woo me, he asked if he could “make love” to me.  I had a hard time keeping a straight face, and NOT laughing. I wanted to ask him, “I don’t know, CAN you?” Instead I said no.

I am not saying that everything I have gone through was worth getting to Mr. Yummy again, because it wasn’t. What it was, just happens to be the recipe I used to get me to that point where everything changed. It was the change that was so ever-loving important in my life and the me I saw in the parking lot with TFB, knew that I would reach that state, REGARDLESS of the obstacles I allowed into my life.

Ever observant, Mr. Yummy saw something in me as I was having my small vision and asked me, “What?” I didn’t share with him. Some things should remain private and he knows all he needs to about The Boy aka The Face Breaker, and that relationship. And I know enough of what I need to know about Mr. Yummy, to know what he would contemplate, were he to have the information he wants. (A name and address)

So then we walked outside to the parking lot, where I was given two pairs of pants and a shirt I have managed to abandon at his house in the two nights I have stayed over. I thanked him, gave him a kiss and walked back to my car, watched him gear up and noticed his delicious, brain penetrating smell had followed me back to my car. I paused and breathed him in and while he was looking at me, the other me, walked over to my car and joined me.

I have now had two visions where a younger me reunited with the current me and I realize how much more full I am feeling, as opposed to having that constant void and ache of something missing. A lot of the time, I thought I was in need of someone to come along and fill that hole or void for me. The REAL secret, and the secret I got only from my fall into the rabbit hole, is that it took ME to reclaim the various me identities I have created over time.

I’m not sure where Mr. Yummy and I will end up. In a way I think we are already there, because we have that connection, I realized that when he pulled a bottle of shampoo I bought fourteen years ago and left in his apartment when I moved out, from under his sink. He’s moved since then. He’s had other girlfriends since then, and yet, there was the hemp shampoo I bought so many years ago. He handed it to me while I was in his shower Saturday morning and told me it was mine. I didn’t have my glasses on, so all I could see was the hemp leaf on it, and I knew he was full of truth, it was mine.

I love this guy.