Dear D,
Here’s what I want you to know:
-You are crazy-sexy-beautiful
-You scramble my brain and my heart
-I love the man that you are with me
(an excerpt of a letter I wrote to D)
I’ve told you before I write. I write how I talk, so it may take a second for you to get the cadence of my writing, but it’s easier if you imagine me telling this to you like one of my many stories. Feel free to pretend to interrupt whenever you want to. lol. But I’ll keep going. I’m typing because, D…wow…my handwriting is so bad. It’s like a serial killer. As I’m typing, I’m listening to Joe Bonamassa’s, “Reconsider Baby,” that’s on your cd I made you. We listened to this in the car the night we met. Well, here goes. This is what I’d started writing and how I see you..(deep breath)
So I started to text a man-friend to tell him to come to the bar because it was bor-ing *zzzzzzzzzzzz* when HE came in like a tornado. No shit, guns a blazin'. His hands thrown up in the air in metal horns, head bangin', one leg in front of the other in a firm stance. I took one look at him, flipped my phone over, turned to my friend, M, and said, "I'm SO gonna meet THAT guy." I watched him bounce around the bar, shoot pool and as he'd sit and wait his turn when the music was playing, I'd look at his hands and feet tapping to the music. His right foot is hitting the bass, his left hand is hitting the snare...holy shit, he's a drummer. Yay ME. More music. Air guitar. All guys play air guitar, but...yep...he's a guitar player, too. (backflip)My panties have just flown right off. I sing when it's my turn at the mic and when I'm done I march right over to him. He's looks rugged, like he's been in the sun a lot. Beautiful light eyes, tone body, I notice a random tattoo on his arm, Italian looking, I think, 5'9" maybe, and for me that is not tall. I like my men tall, but let me tell you something. Energetically, this man is 6'5". He takes up so much space. Someone asked me today why I love him, because yes, I do love him already even though it's only been a month, and this is how I answered. D is more of a man than I've ever known. He's fearless (and I believe there's a difference between fearlessness and stupidity. Like when you have someone who'll put their hand in the hole because they're not scared or the one who'll do it because they don't know any better) and when he holds me I'm truly safe. I can rest. I want to use the word, "blessed," when I talk about him because this word pops in my head over and over. D loves me... with ambivalence, but he does love me. Anyway, so I walk right over to him,"You're a musician aren't you?" *hair flip* I give him my eyes and I smile a little smile. We talk and as we do, I am laughing louder than I have and my mind is working harder and faster than it has in years. I can remember saying to him, "You're like my improv class. I'm exhausted." Somehow (she says with a smile) I have no gas in the car and I need a gas station and I'm clueless to where one is...Yup, the comedian takes me. I plug in my music and apparently I have pretty good taste. We sit in front of his place and talk until the wee hours of the morning. (wee always makes me giggle) But he leaves for an out of town gig with his band the next day. (shiver...mmmm, still gets me) Two weeks later I'm lying in a bed with leopard sheets. His bed. It's morning and I've probably slept 5 minutes, my body is happily sore from wrestling and it's time for me to skidaddle outta Joliet and fly back to The Grove. I look at him sleeping. It's the only time he holds still. lol. Otherwise he is nonstop. I trace over his eagle tattoo on his chest, his other tattoos, down to his stomach and his scar to where they took out one of his organs from an accident. I touch his deltoid muscles (one of my favorite parts on him) and his biceps...G-d, I love his arms. I memorize his body to remember it later and I run my fingers down to his hand where he squeezes mine. I kiss him goodbye and I leave. Two weeks after that I'm doing the same thing. But now my inner dialogue is telling me, "Say goodbye to him. Memorize him because you'll never lay with him again." Why? I’m not sure if my ability to express myself so freely is scary to a man that is so brave or if it’s annoying to him. I’d received a beautiful email from one of my students with a youtube link to a song that was so moving that while I was telling D about it I started to get weepy/girly/cry-baby and not once did he touch me to console. Not a hand on my shoulder. Not an, “It’ll be ok.” I think he was really tired and crabby and I was really exhausted, too. I just didn’t know how he could lay next to me when I was crying and not touch me. That’s when I said to myself, “He doesn’t want you. He must not care. He's told you over and over he doesn't want a relationship yet. Do you want someone who won’t be happy when you come home or do you want someone who’ll put his arms around you when you need it? When someone shows you who they are...believe them.” So I look at his tanned, freckled-from-the-sun shoulders, his fresh haircut, the gorgeous lines around his eyes that just make us women look old and go for Botox. I watch his chest rise and fall with his breath. I trace his scar and his strong arms that will never hold me again. I drag down to his hand, to his fingers and they lace into mine and all the while I'm saying, "Goodbye, Baby, I love you. I want to give to you, but you don't want it. I'm so sorry. I wish I knew how to fix it. I wish you would tell me not to leave. I wish you would let me in."
"You want me to walk you out?" he grumbles. No way he’s getting up.
"No." I'm choking back tears
"You want me to call you later?"
I don't answer him for 10 seconds
"mmmm," is all I can get out. I get up and go out the door. In the car I cried for ten minutes praying he'd come out. Knowing in my heart he'd already gone back to sleep the minute I'd left. "Drive, Robyn. He's not coming. What is WRONG with you? Go home." and so I did. He had no idea I'd just left him. He didn't call, text. I have to stop here for now because my heart hurts. I'll finish when I can.
For three days straight I cried and cried to my friends. (I even left the state for a few days) More so because I just can’t figure out why the man who one minute tells me, “Be my girlfriend. I love you. I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want a girlfriend. I could marry you. I just got away from somebody. I want to be free. I don’t want to be alone…” Fuck! Which is it? Just let me know, ‘cause I can manage if I just know what the plan is. My girlfriend, K, comes to do laundry and talk some sense into me and take me to dinner and beer. (She says beer is something you drink when you want to be happy…um, ok.) It’s fun. We talk, I feel better. The phone rings…It's D
blah blah blah(both sides) (I’ll try to call/text more)(I’ll try to keep my shit together and not flip out when you don’t call) *exhale* I don’t think I could exhale for 2 days. I feel so much better. I get cute, funny texts from D the next day. He checks in with me, I find him so right, I tell him how good it makes me feel that he did that for me. I think it’s going to be ok. He’s trying and that’s all I can ask. Haven’t really talked about anything, but who cares…some things can just be left alone. Some things are just not that monumental to have to talk to death. I want to laugh and have my dance breaks with him. I want to talk about nothing, talk about something, watch tv, have a normal meal, go for a fucking walk, enjoy the rest of my summer. I just want to be right now. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. Kinda at a standstill right now. Love to you, R
That was August. Some crazy things have happened with him. I mean...CARAZYYY!!! I've found myself sitting on the back of a golf cart at one in the morning between D and a friend of his (that I almost ripped his pinky off not knowing he was D's friend)looking at the moon when 5 minutes before that being stomping mad at him, or skinny dipping, I'm gonna stop there for now. What I know is this: from the moment that tornado came into my life I knew I loved him. I've never been so sure of anything in my life as I am of that. I stand for him and he does for me. He's given me more in the last 6 months than I ever had in my 13 years of marriage. More love, more laughter, more security, more peace. He loves me and I know I deserve him. I deserve every ridiculous laughing, naked air guitar-ing, karaoke singing with family, dancing to Michael Jackson's PYT, delicious kissing, band practice watching, laundry folding, dinner making, birthday celebrating moment. When I would watch those sappy romance movies on screen and I'd cry, oh fuckballs, would I cry, 'cause I'd think, "Would anyone ever love me that way?" Even when I was married I felt like that. How sad. But, yeah, it happens. It really does because he's here. I wake up to him and I am contented. He's reminded me to smile again. He's given me two sisters and another mother, too, that give me just as much love and courage when I don't have enough to carry myself. I am rich, my sisters, rich beyond my wildest dreams. Richer than I'd ever imagined I could be. As I sit in my palace typing this to you, I know I've won. I think what sparked this today was a series of events that just set me off. I saw someone from my past who was very abusive to me and I was surrounded by support and love and it was such a change from what I'm used to. I'm so grateful. It may seem self indulgent or frivolous to some, but I don't care, really. If you knew me and my life, you know...you just know.
So the songs I've picked for today are
Songbird by Fleetwood Mac
Reconsider Baby by Joe Bonamassa
Purple Rain by Prince (I can still remember our first kiss to this song)
I Brag I have sucked in the most amazing man because I am finally whole with myself. I am brave and pretty fucking brilliant.
I Am Grateful for living the life that I have now, for being free, for having the love I have now that I so deserve.
I Desire more. More sparkles, more love, more fun, laughter, light, financial abundance so we can be comfortable, health, just more on this journey.
