Take-a-my heart..foof!!

"...Then tell me three things that you love about him right now."
"Why? What will that do?"
"Just do it."
"He's very witty. I mean it. He can't tell a joke to save his life, but he can make you laugh about something, make you forget about it, and then bring it back into the conversation and make it fit so that everybody erupts into that kind of laughter that you are clapping at the same time because it was so good."
"What else?"
"His smile when it's genuine. People give him a lot of flack because he doesn't smile in his pictures and stuff. Like if you've ever seen that shirt with Darth Vader on it with all the different emotions, happy, sad, surprised...and it's all the same picture. He's kinda like that in his pictures and I know exactly why he won't do it. But I love his smile. Don't get me wrong, I like his other smiles and laughs, too, but I'm not talking about that loud, boisterous laugh that most people see when he's out. "
"One more."
"His vulnerability when he allows it. I've seen people take such advantage of him and he's had to build this heavy armor. When he lets you in, it's such a gift. He's much more fragile than he'll ever let most people see. Very early in our relationship we were driving and he asked if we could make a stop. But he does it like this, "TURNHERETURNHERETURNHERE!!!!"  As I pulled in, it became apparent I was taking him to his Dad's gravesite. We parked the car and got out. I'm a little taken back. I'm already in deep love with him, but for Dustin, this is not normal behavior. We approach the site and D stops to put his eye drops in, and if I could have a fourth thing...this would be it. I've never seen anyone put eye drops in like he does. Seriously.  It's fascinating and defies gravity.  Anyways, we come up to where his dad is buried and as D is wiping his eyes he puts his arm around me and abruptly pulls me to his side, "Pop, this is Robyn. Everyone's telling me she's a keeper and I wanted you to meet her." I'm shocked, I'm speechless, all I want to do is hold him. He tells me a story of a mix up with the location of the plots and how he thinks his dad would hate all the planes flying over him all the time. He looks around for a second and just like that he says, "Ok, we're gonna go now," sigh, "I miss you and I love you." We turn and leave. A few days after that, he disappeared. I didn't hear from him for at least  a few days. No communication at all, and I was heartsick. I went back a few days after that to the cemetery and sat down on the grass next to Pop's stone. I can still remember how itchy the grass was. Immediately my eyes welled up with tears. "I know you worry about him," I sobbed, " I promise, if we're together I'll love him and take care of him the best I know how. I know he's a good man. I see it in him. But, please, help me listen how to love him. Help him come home to me." Whooo, got a little off the subject there, sorry."
"How do you feel?"
"Like the more things change, the more they stay the same."

 When's the last time you thought of three things you love about your loved one or why you're grateful? You don't have to tell me what they are. Maybe it will help you remember why you love each other. Or what you would lose.
"People say you don't know what you've got til it's gone, but the truth is, you knew what you had, you just never thought you'd lose it."
I wrote this whole story (minus a small personal paragraph I've eliminated) to D after a horrible argument we'd had because instead of writing him all of the things I wanted to tell him he was doing wrong, I stopped and found him right.  I was still really fucking hurt...don't get it twisted, but it slapped me in the face of why I loved him to begin with and I asked him to do the same and if he couldn't...well, then, to let me go.  Sometimes we have rough patches...days, weeks, even longer...but you decide when it's worth it to stay or to walk away.  A friend with an anniversary sparked this in me today.  I send my love.  I send it to all of you.  xxoo, R

song picks for the night:
Pat Monahan's, "Always Midnight"
Damien Rice's, "The Blower's Daughter"

Bienvenido A Miami...my favorite topless spot

"B, I don't want to alarm you, but It's 6:48 and we can't get the motorcycle up the stairs...Yes, I'll call her now...Yes, I'll breathe...I'll breathe right after she gets in the room on that motorcycle in one piece...hang on...that's the lady in charge on the other line."
"Hello?  Yeah, no, you don't seem to understand.  15 minutes is no good.  I need to get this motorcycle, the hot guy in the tux and MG  in the room for the entrance in (I look at my watch) 5 minutes.  Can I take them through the front door?  No?  Sorry, (I make a fake noise with my mouth) I can't hear y..."(I hang up) YOU! (I point to motorcylce man) FOLLOW ME!" I throw off my sandals and start a mad dash down the street barefoot in a dress in front of the Miami Convention Center. Throw open the doors as Hot Tux Motorcycle Man drives up the ramp into the building (vvrrooomm) what time is it? 6:58 shit! HURRY! We start on time!  I still have to tell MG what  her stage directions are.  We are hauling ass on the carpet.  Me running barefoot in the convention center with a man on a harley...odd for some.  For Miami, totally normal.  But then, I see her standing cool-as-a-cucumber, with her thumb in the air and one leg out as if to be hitching a ride and I realize all is right in the world.  MG, the leader of the Pleasure Revolution, in a gorgeous dress that drapes on her body like a delicious piece of taffy that's been pulled and swagged around her body. I see her smiling and realize I must look like a mental patient so I gather myself, introduce her to her entrance date, show her where to put her body so she will be safe on the bike, where she needs to go on the floor, how he will assist her, and then she looks at him with all the gratitude in the world and says, "Thank you so much for doing this for us. We are so grateful." and he is powerless.  Genius. 30 seconds.  I can hear, "Flight of the Bumble Bee," telling the women to ready themselves for greatness. Cue the music. The doors open.  The music booms.  The room erupts in screams as the doors open...EXHALE.  Will Smith's, "Welcome to Miami," plays loudly as MG is paraded around a room of the most turned on and tuned in women on the planet.  In 90 seconds there is more pleasure and passion and fire and energy then I've ever thought possible.  Sisterhood, community at it's peak and I bare witness to it.  I am a testament.  I watch from the back of the room as MG greets and asks different women to stand and brag.  Bragging is different then boasting.  The difference:  Bragging is merely telling the truth.  I am a great mother.  I'm a fun person.  Boasting is embelishing.  I had an elephant sandwich for lunch.  I am the queen of England.  Ya dig?  So I am looking at these women embracing their light and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  Why?  Because, my darlings, I'm part of this revolution.  I choose pleasure.  I choose happiness.  I am part of a community that has given me such love and comfort.  And although I do not see you often and we are far apart, I still feel you in my heart, my sisters every day.  Every single day.  Yeah, doesn't have anything to do with my dating blog, but I'm in love with all of you, I had this memory and I wanted to tell you...does that count? Sending you all love and hope to see you all in November.  xxoo, SG Sunshine

My dance break song is
Will Smith's, "Welcome To Miami,"
Natalie Merchant's, "Kind and Generous,"
and Shanon Day's, "Free,"

Grateful grateful grateful for my man and his strong arms that hold me
I desire a cheap plane ticket and a great deal on a room at the Standard or Raleigh and to do the entrance for IC!
I brag I am a great Goddess of Entrances