This heart keeps going on for you


I met a man online and for a good healthy moment, I thought he was mine, all mine, but now I know he was never mine to begin with. Even though I touched his heart, held his dreams in my arms, embraced tightly his fears and kissed gently his pain (each for a moment at least), it turns out, I was just paying mind to – and cleaning up a mess, someone else left behind.  Oh universe – of all the wonderful people keeping this crooked world together, why me? Why take a moment to tease me? (- and that’s what it feels like, a tease!) Why pick on this broken-hearted woman to deliver a man resembling her own dream lover, to another woman?  Really?  It had to be me?  You mean, there wasn’t some other chaos or atrocity you could tend to, rather than spending this moment with me to reunite these two together? (Will they bring peace on earth? Ok then, I’ll brace for impact…)

I get it – some good things happened for both him and me, but still…I’m a little hurt and, the experience made me more thirsty…(is there a point where one can be so thirsty, there is no greater degree to thirst?)  He said, I should keep dreaming, then let it go; that I shouldn’t hold on too hard to what I want most….(yes, he is quite the wise man).  I don’t understand it though, it’s beyond my scope of being. I don’t understand the concept – nor, the process of dreaming big and then, setting it free?

As I keep dreaming and keep dreaming big – will my love come along as he said?  And I’m wondering – will someone else (maybe you) give my lover a helping a hand, maybe a great big kick in the caboose that sends him flying right into me – knocking me off my feet, making my head spin, and making my heart skip a beat?  Oh and, will I be ready for him?  Will I accept him for everything that he really is…will I be ready to love him immediately?  If it’s an emergency…will I be prepared?

This mystery man and I, we never met, we just wrote to one another- about love, relationships and experiences in life that have affected us deeply. Well, I was just getting started on my end actually…    I had such an easy time opening up to him and considering him as possibly the man of my dreams.  He opened up to me too, shared with me some of the fantasies he created for just him and I.  The more I shared with him , the more I wanted him.  It doesn’t feel right to give so much of yourself to someone and not want him for yourself forever…

I think I made him feel uncomfortable or possibly created pressure on him for a romantic relationship.  I wrote to him about how I wanted to keep his heart safe and all that, and he wrote back to me repeating (several times) his desire to establish a friendship base.  I replied with an apology for pushing too hard, I expressed my desire for friendship too, but I feared the damage was already done…  Now I am thinking, maybe it was also part of the universe preparing me for what was to come….

A couple of days passed before he replied to my last message, and in the meantime, I felt like I was already losing him…  I knew it wasn’t healthy to teeter between such grand emotions and ideas about someone I just met, but I couldn’t help it.  And just in case he really was the man for me, I didn’t want to restrain myself from him… (oops).

I saw it coming, or maybe, I made it happen.  I breathed life into the possibility of him not wanting me after all.  And that’s what happened, through me, he found his way back to a love he thought was lost.  Now, he is ready to do whatever it takes to make it work with her.

He was very kind, thoughtful and gentle as he bid farewell to me – which of course only made me want him more…. Damn. I hope there is enough of that kind of love for every single one of us looking….

So, the search goes on for you my love (I am right here by the way…).  Follow the sound of my heart beat calling for you.  Get out of my dream and into my reality.  Come to life, let me give this love to you… please, take your rightful place right here next to me.  Your absence is soo cliche…


Save me the breath of having to explain

Although I fantasize about various types of men, I think in real life it’s best to be with a black man.  For me, it gets rid of extra explanations.  I get to save my breath from explaining all kinds of things about me – my hair for one, my skin for another.

You know, my skin covers me head to toe and sometimes that’s a problem – but, my black man would take my hand, no questions asked.  My black man and I would share this common experience, it would be a deep and expansive feature of our relationship.  Only he could begin to grasp the idea (and/or the experience) of loving me so, oh so thoroughly.  It would irrefutably bind us together, irreversibly blend our social angst and qualms while we’re at it.

He would save me the breath of having to explain myself – explain my past, explain my present and explain my future.  He saves me the breath of having to do all the explaining to our children.   Gee, I rather use those extra breaths to say “I love you more.”

I can’t imagine feeling the need to hide from him.  I can’t imagine feeling the need to keep pieces of my experience, nor a single piece of my broken heart from him.  I can’t imagine hiding from him and getting away with it.  He would know, he would have that extra sense to know me better. He would have broken pieces too and some would match those of my own heart. We would be a match made in heaven, I can see it now!

There would be no extra set of complexities and confusion between us, because he would never deliberately or inadvertently nor subconsciously add to any of my grievances.  My love for him would not be tainted by such confusion.  Whenever things happens, he would take my hand and experience my pain fully and completely like a loving embrace.  Only he would know how strong I am and he wouldn’t be surprised by how fragile I am.  It all makes sense to him.

It makes sense to be with him, to be matched with him.  His skin and my skin mean the same thing, trigger the same thing, would love and could love and should love, the same way.  We can blend in when we want to and stand conspicuously together as well.

Our love would never be questioned, be looked down on, be doubted or mocked.  We are safe in each other’s arms, most importantly, in each other’s hearts, oh but maybe even more importantly, in each other’s understanding.

No friends, no problem??

I am looking for signs that the mental fog that I have been living under is finally dissipating. Today I felt a little sense of relief.  I am not quite sure what brought it on.  Even though I was in school for the majority of the day, I spent most of the time alone.  I barely spoke to anyone – I wasn’t intentionally avoiding anyone, but I was preoccupied with starting and completing a couple of assignments due today.  I finished.

There was something different about today.  I didn’t feel needy.  But I am not sure if that’s true, because the thought did cross my mind.  I am not sure.  What happened is that, I thought about my life and the fact that I don’t really have friends. While I do have people that I chat with and sit with, our relationship does not stretch passed the confines of school and school work.  And that’s where the problem lies.

I’ve always wanted people that can stretch into my world beyond school, people to help me find and conquer new worlds for my life. It happens rarely. Nowadays, every encounter and conversation is a direct result of our shared experience as peers in school or as staff members at work.  We are peers, we are colleagues – we are not friends, the lines are pretty clear.

I’ve always experienced loneliness – my one true lifelong friend.  This fact is true of every interval of my life.  Obviously high school wasn’t great, university was a little better, but not by much, I tried again at college the first time around and here I am at college again, seeing the same process unfold.  I see people partnering up, molding friendships, creating support systems and I am still wandering the hallways alone.  I am still strutting along that lonely catwalk, my eyes anxiously seeking a familiar face.  Someone that knows me, someone that can throw a gesture of acknowledgement my way – a mere “hello”, maybe spare a bit of small-talk, allow me to present my beautiful smile to the world.  My smile desperately screams, “hey world, look at me, I am wonderful person, please seek to know me, I can be your friend!”

I am still alone in every sector of my daily experience.  Perhaps this is why my parallel fantasy word is re-emerging and taking such a predominant stake in my daily life.  Now I have my own fantastic life of riches, success and love playing in my head at all times – at all times!  I am having trouble staying present in my reality – experiencing real moments.  I am always in my head creating and recreating this world. Sometimes I take from my real world, components that work for me.  But now I am living in my head again.  I am fighting hard to keep my mind in reality, but it’s hard when my reality has nothing exciting to offer, besides my little girl.  She’s my anchor to the real world.  It’s as if she knows that I am in a fantasy world, she’s constantly calling on me, “Mom! Mom! Mom!”  She brings me back to reality.

I will make real effort to stay present when I am with her.  I don’t want to fall into fantasy. I don’t want to lose myself.  If I lose myself, I will absent from my little girl’s moments and I don’t want to miss a thing.  She’s the only good thing in my life.    She’s my anchor to reality, and my loneliness is the fierce wind that seeks to blow me into mere fantasy.  I don’t want to be pushed, I don’t want to move, I want to stay in this world with my girl.

What else can I possibly do to help me stay put?  How can I make my reality more interesting?  Genuine friendships would help, but clearly I don’t know how to make friends, so I don’t even want to try anymore.  Why is it so hard to make friends?  Earlier today at school, I thought, I’ve survived almost 34 years without this friend that I keep searching for, what’s another 34 years?!

Maybe that was the feeling earlier today, acceptance.  Maybe I am finally emerging towards acceptance. Accepting myself as I am, lonely and all. The feeling was most prominent when I was sitting alone in the cafeteria eating my lunch.  I noticed couples and groups sitting and chatting together, having a gay ‘ole time and wondered, what it was about me that I never really felt included in such experiences.  I mean- I know that I have had experiences where I sat with groups and had a wonderful time, but those moments are with  peers not friends, and those moments are rare.

“Horrifying” made the difference

I am proud of myself. I actually made a comment in class and the aftershock was bearable.  I shared with the class my thoughts on a subject, I described my reaction.  I put up my hand and waited for my turn – I took that time to calm myself down and to find a better word for what I wanted to say.  I wasn’t quite happy with the word I had at the time, which was “disappointing.”

I scanned my mind searching, searching for that perfect word and finally settled on “horrifying”  – what I wanted to relay was indeed “horrifying.”  After my comment, I quickly recoiled back into myself to immediately analyze the sensations.  My voice wasn’t shaky and my comment wasn’t nonsensical.  My hands weren’t shaking and I can’t recall if my heart was racing at all!  All evidence of my progress.

I am practicing speaking out-loud.  I am tackling easy questions first, specifically closed questions and opinion questions – things that are never “wrong.”  (I continue to struggle with the experience of being wrong in a crowd)!   I am practicing the act of being heard, being listened to, being the centre of attention for a moment.  I am practicing projecting my voice – finding the right words without losing my mind or thought process.  I am practicing thinking on my feet.

If I really want to be the kind of speaker I constantly imagine myself being, then I have to start somewhere and sometime.  I choose to start here and now, with one word responses and pure opinion – better late than never.

Freedom from mental slavery

Earlier today, a friend was trying to have a conversation with me about a topic we discussed in class.  While quite a controversial topic, I definitely had a point of view that I had settled on and am quite comfortable in. This friend of mine I will describe as free-spirit.  She spoke louder than I, spoke incessantly – in fact, I had a difficult time getting a word in.  She jumps from one thing to another in a split second – honestly I can’t keep up sometimes.

However, that wasn’t exactly the issue at hand.  The issue at hand was the fact that I was not fully concentrating on what she was saying.   I was not fully invested in the conversation because I was on high alert for eavesdroppers.  I was in a classroom full of peers, many in close proximity and so, many could tune in and listen to every word we were saying.

For that reason, I was monitoring and censoring myself.  I wanted to say what I thought was a good response. I didn’t want to sound ignorant and I didn’t want to appear stupid.  And I was certain that specific people were definitely listening to us and evaluating my performance in the conversation.  I was so focused on everyone around me and on trying to find the correct words and phrasing to express myself that I have no idea how much of my mind was actually devoted to this friend of mine!

This is the most debilitating phenomenon in my life – the one thing that totally inhibits my potential from actualizing.  Why do I care so much what other people think of me?  Why am I letting other people’s thoughts of me curtail my performance?  Why do I have to be smart?  Why do I have to say the right things all the time?  Why must I be cautious?  Why am I so afraid of offending others?  How do I liberate myself from these shackles?

I want to be free, free like my friend.  She says whatever she wants whenever she wants.  She is fearless.  She is not afraid of being WRONG?  What’s wrong with being wrong?  She’s not afraid of sounding stupid? She’s not afraid of offending others?  She’s not afraid.  She uses her voice. She allows herself to be.  She doesn’t hold herself back.

Why can’t I do that?  This self-imposed constant self-censorship, editing, silencing is what is holding me back from progress in my life; it’s what is slowing down the whole process of me becoming the person I keep wanting to be!  I want to speak.

I am also having troubling thinking.  I can’t think straight.  I can’t think clearly.  I can’t accept the fact that I don’t have all the right answers – or any answers for that matter!  How did I make myself this grand, yet totally incapable??

I only have one point of view and I need to accept that.  I can never know it all.  The faster I accept that, the better off I will be.  Gosh, it’s exhausting being me, living in this body, in this mind, with these thoughts!