AND SHE SLEEPS

A mystery lies beside me. She crept in without fanfare or fuss, simple and easy, and brought with her everything that one could want in a woman, and she touched me and moved me in ways I could not have imagined possible. And she sleeps.

I lay beside her, wondering how such a thing could have happened to me now, at this time and place, and my heart skips a beat with every breath she takes. Inside, every emotion, every sensation that has laid dormant, now swirls about in a whirwind hurricane, and still she sleeps.

Everything that existed before this time and place now takes on a greater importance, because the road traveled led to here; this small darkened room, listening to the soft breathing of someone who, without even trying, has brought a light and balance to what had been a dark and dizzying place. And she sleeps.

She sleeps, and I lie awake, feeling like the luckiest person in the world, to think that she would choose to waste a little time on me, and I feel filled in so many ways that tears roll down my face and I wonder what it is about her that can make me feel so priviledged just to share a bed with her, a mystery I will never solve.

I lie awake- senses reeling, every nerve tingling, losing myself in sheer sensation, and she sleeps.

And I couldn't be happier.

THERE ARE GHOSTS HERE

How can you not believe in them? They come unbidden at any time, they flit about the periphery of all of us, dipping into view at will. Not all rattle chains or leap from behind tombstones: some are benevolent, some seek only to make us smile, and some are just there-waiting to be acknowledged. They haunt us all in one way or another, in every good and bad sense of the word. They exist in every culture in every distant land, and they are everywhere humanity has taken hold. No graveyard contains them, no exorcism will rid you of them.

What is a memory but a Ghost disguised by another name? They can be triggered by the simplest of things: an overheard snatch of conversation, a song unheard in years, the laughter of others, a look of sadness on a familiar looking strangers face, even an aroma, or a tactile sensation is capable of unleashing the oddest of phantoms from their dormant states.

If we are lucky, each of us will become shades that will haunt others-one of the benevolent ones that will bring a smile or a wistful feeling to those who allowed us to be buried in their own mental graveyard.

Yes there are Ghosts here, and they haunt me every night. Some make me smile, some make me sweat, some make me cry, and some just plain terrify me.

And I cherish each and every one.

I pray that I join them someday.

Happy Hauntings

A RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS

Recently two people did something for me that moved me so profoundly, and in ways I never thought I would experience again, that it has been almost haunting in its effect. I am sure that for both of them it barely registered at all, but for a (too) brief period of time I felt a peace and contentment that hit me on such a basic and fundamental level that it actually made me woozy, and even now as I write this that strange, knotted feeling is returning.

For you morons out there, I am not refering to anything sexual, although there was an element of sensual pleasure (all on my end I am sure) just from the sheer sensory nature of the experience. This side of it was intensified by the fact that the two people, who don't really know me well at all, took me in and engaged me on so many levels that I think I actually got teary-eyed. It was that rare moment where you actually realize its significance and impact while it is happening, which actually makes it joyous and bittersweet at the same time.

I am generally indifferent to most people; even folks I am friendly with I do not count as friends. These two, neither of whom will probably ever know or understand why, I am indebted to. Their grace, elegance, compassion, intelligence, and fundamental decency have moved me in ways that I could never explain to them in person without sounding like a complete idiot. The fact that my feelings and sensations were most likely not shared is unimportant. What is important is that for a few hours I shared a time and place with people of substance, and it was thrilling, peaceful, sexy and satisfying (and a little frustrating) and I would give anything to feel that again.

The fact that these two exist and drfited into my life is proof enough that we matter, and that all the pain and regret and bullshit are worth wading through to be able to share the moments I shared with them.

Here endeth the sentiment.

KNOWING THE WAY WELL

God I am tired.

I sit here most nights, looking out over the water from the 21st floor, wishing I could just drift away into the ether. Instead I spend most nights allowing my mind to wander down corriders that should remain closed off.

I don't feel like elaborating, but let me say this: they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but that is complete bullshit.

The road to hell is a lost highway littered with regret, anger, self-interest, lust- every base human behavior imagineable.

And I know the way well.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS REVEALED or THINGS I SHOULD BE EMBARRASED BY

Each of the below is 100% true, and I regret none of them.

In no particular order:

My first kiss was actually with 2 girls, Jo-Ellen Skanski and "Tuna" Schone. I was 14, they were both 16, and they took me to Hamilton Park and took turns making out with me. Jo-Ellen tasted like apples, "Tuna" oddly enough tasted like Dorito's

I cry almost every time at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life"

I don't dislike my daughters boyfriend, I just wish he would go away

I resent the time and money I have to spend on my Mother-In-Law

I have had sex with 2 women at the same time, and it was every bit as enjoyable as I had imagined (and no, it wasn't with Jo-Ellen and Tuna, I was 14 for chrissakes)

I stopped taking medications without telling anyone

I am the one who spray painted "Sister Angela-Therese Sucks" on the Queen of Angels school doors in grade school (I know I am going to hell for that one)

I once beat a stranger senseless because of the way he was treating his girlfriend

I was once beaten senseless because of the way I was treating a strangers girlfriend (I was flirting with her, but man it would have been worth it)

My friend Bo and I went to the Senior Prom solo to try and steal peoples dates. It worked, and we didn't have to rent a tux.

Occasionally I will watch porn- but man does most of it suck

I take long bubble baths with Bath and Body Works products at least several times a week, and have never once felt gay about it

I have an irrational fear of dying in my sleep

I think the sexiest part of a woman are her eyes (OK, this one is a little weird, but I will take a woman with bedroom eyes over one with a nice rack- having both isn't a problem either though)

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

Her name was Theresa M, but I called her Tish. I met her about 6 months before she was supposed to get married. We worked together and had always been cordial and polite to one another, but there was really nothing between us until one day after work my car wouldn't start and she was the only one left in the parking lot and she offered me a ride home, which was about a 30 minute ride.

During that 30 minutes the conversation was so easy and free that it startled both of us, and by the time we reached my apartment we were already slighly flirting with each other, though I am sure neither one of us would have admitted it.

Over the next several weeks we began spending more and more time together, finding excuses to be together both during and after work. Nothing physical happened during this time, just hours of conversations that neither one of us wanted to bring to an end.

Finally, one night after a few drinks too many we went beyond talking and just spent hours kissing, caressing, and exploring, without actually making love. She left at around four in the morning, and my insides just wouldn't keep still. I felt as if she had reached down inside of me and took every breath I had.

Time continued to pass and we would steal moments together whenever we could, never actually going over the "Sex" line, but coming closer and closer. These moments got to be all I lived for, but at the same time a melancholy started to drift into the moods and the conversations. The fact that she had an actual wedding date, with a guy who was fundamentally decent, was like a permanent shadow that started to loom larger over each encounter. I think that both of us were trying to convince ourselves that as long as we didn't make love, we were really just enjoying ourselves without any real consequences.

Finally, several weeks before she was to marry, she just came out and said that she was in a panic as to what she was doing. She loved the man she was supposed to marry, but she also was afraid of what it said about their relationship that she was so drawn to me. We would speak of this for a short period of time, and then hold and kiss each other for a while, and then talk again. This continued through the night, getting closer and closer to where each of us wanted to go. Finally, just when I was sure that I could hold off no longer, right on the verge of just ignoring everything and diving into her with every ounce of passion I had, a single tear worked it's way down her cheek.

It seemed like it took an eternity for that tear to go from her eye to her cheekbone, and in one of those rare, blazing moments of clarity that I have experienced in my lifetime, I reached out and gently wiped it away, kissed her cheek, laid back, and just pulled her down and held her against me for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes. When I finally spoke I said the things I thought needed to be said, I told her that everything was going to be all right, that we just let things get a little too far out of hand, that we needed to put the past 6 months behind us, and focus on the things that attracted us to begin with, and use that as a foundation for the deepest friendship. She cried a while, snuggled with me, and then thanked me for not letting things get out of hand.

After a while, she got up, got dressed, and I walked her to her car. We held each other again, kissed, and I told her that we probably shouldn't see each other again until after the wedding, and she agreed. Before she left she told me that she loved me, and I believed her.

I never saw her again. She had quit work the previous week to prepare for the wedding and her new life. I received an invitation to the wedding, and heard through a 3rd party that she was asking about me, but I never made an attempt to get a hold of her again. Every word I spoke to her that night was a lie. I would have given anything to tell her to ditch the guy and spend every night and moment with me, that I would do anything and everything to keep her happy, but even then I knew that it wouldn't have been right for her.

I remember everything: her scent, the way she looked backlit in the doorway in a sheer dress, the curve of her breasts, the soft sounds she made, the way her back would arch when I touched the small of her back, and especially her eyes. They were the darkest brown and they kind of sparkled when she smiled, and they deepened and widened when she was sad, and I spent hours looking into them, saying the kind of things you can only believe when you don't know any better.

Her name was Theresa M, but I called her Tish, and not a week has gone by where I haven't thought of her, and hurt inside.

God I am an idiot.

IT AIN"T WHY, IT JUST IS

OK. The old blog has been shut down and this one now continues in it's place. As time allows I will re-post some of the most commented on posts here just because I either received nice comments on them, because I think they might be of interest to the intended readers of this blog, or just because I want to.

I was really hoping that more time would pass between the time I made the first post here until now, but it is what it is. Given that some dumb-asses were predicting my demise 5 years ago, I am not going to get too worked up, but I can no longer ignore the weight loss, the almost constant pains, or the fact that other people have now noticed I don't look well.

This space will not be used to depress folks or detail the particulars of my health. From this point on I will use this forum to convince myself and others that I was here and I had an impact (good, bad, it doesn't matter- at least I DID things, instead of watching from the sidelines) and that I have at least made an attempt to understand and make sense of myself and the world around me.

Besides, if I wasn't spending time entering shit here I would probably just be masturbating, and we all know where that leads.