Do you remember that night, back in August? We were at the park, near the river where you always told me the rats were as big as chichuahuas. You told me that so I’d be scared, and find solace in your arms. I believed it for the same reason.
We lay on the old beach towel under the willow in what I had come to believe as ‘our spot.’ The river had that dank, late-summer smell to it and it was too sultry for even the crickets to do more than give half-hearted chirps every now and again. We had a six pack of Budweiser that some older guy had bought for us when you threw in the extra $20–money I’d made babysitting. It was too hot to do more than lay side by side. Even our teenage hormones were dazed by the heat.
That was the night that you first told me about Beth. Even now, the name makes my gut clench.
I remember that you’d been distracted, drinking your beer fast and crunching the cans before pitching them into the heavy water. I felt a similar clench in my stomach. Something was bothering you and I was scared you were going to end things. I had always known you would break up with me, because I’d always known you were too good to be true. But it had only been a year that we’d been together, and I was hoping for more time.
Of course, you didn’t break up with me. Not really.
It would be a good arrangement, you explained. You and Beth would be together at your school, and I could have a boyfriend at my school. Nights, summers, weekends…it would be just you and I.
I remember panic rising in my throat like vomit. I was confused and felt like I would suffocate in the humid air. Wasn’t I enough? I wondered. I had given you absolutely everything. I did everything, anything, you asked of me and you told me that you loved me. I had nothing left to give and yet you wanted more.
I didn’t speak at first. It was like when we’d first started dating, and I couldn’t speak to you in front of other people. I was so awed by your presence and the effect you had on me back then. This time, I was simply speechless. I sipped my beer and pulled a cigarette out of the pack next to me. When I fumbled with my lighter and you took the cigarette from my lips, put it in your own mouth and lit it and then put it back in mine. Wordlessly.
I dragged deep and finally looked into your eyes.
Dangerous territory, those eyes of yours. Dark brown with flecks of yellow near the irises, they acted like a magnet to my soul. It was no lie when I told you that sometimes, looking deep into your eyes, I heard music. You told me you heard the same when you looked at me.
I sighed. Of course I’d do it. Anything for you, up to and including giving you away for five days a week.
I didn’t say it like that though. I didn’t utter a word.
Instead, with the same magic that pulled us together the second we met just over a year ago, I drew you to me–or you drew me to you—who knows how to define that magnetic pull we shared.
Our kiss was slow and hesitant, more like the first kiss than the thousandth. Your question, my answer. Was there much difference between a hello and goodbye? Did it matter?
We made love under the willow that night, and I raked my nails down your back as I came. I wanted to leave my mark on you. This girl–this Beth–she might have you at school, but I had you here. Now.
You shuddered when I broke your skin and I felt you release inside me.
We lay there for quite some time, our breathing slowing, our legs entwined. Eventually you leaned up on your elbows and put your nose to mine. “I love you” you whispered.
That would have been the perfect time for me to give you all the reasons why you shouldn’t play this game. You should choose, me or her. You shouldn’t ask me to give you so much freedom. What boy in my school even compared to you? No one had those eyes, that magnetism that sensuality that called out my own desire.
But of course I stayed silent on all this.
“I love you too” I replied.
Of course I did.
So today I took my 14 year old daughter to see Twilight. She has read all the books at least 3 times and this is the 3rd time she has seen the movie in as many days.
I tried to be objective. Really I did.
I have a hard time with suspension of disbelief when it comes to movies. Part of that is a defense mechanism I learned as a child–scary movies aren’t too scary if you can spot the cinematographic (is that a word?) inaccuracies. The microphone in the top of the shot, the subtle change in a character’s hair or makeup..little things.
And Twilight wasn’t scary in the least, but as with all movies, I look for the mistakes in order to find a certain level of reality.
So yes, when Bella’s nasal cannula for oxygen was on wrong, I couldn’t help but notice. And when one actor’s pupils were pinpoint, I couldn’t help but begin to worry that yet another young Hollywood star was starting on the long path of narcotic addiction.
But after a while, I was able to sit back, watch the show, and attempt to be objective.
Angst. Longing. Unbearable love that haunts your dreams.
Oh yeah, I can see why all these teenage girls have their Twilight obsessions running full bore.
What teenage girl doesn’t dream of a handsome, strong, protective, loving and tortured boyfriend? Who can carry her to (literal) great heights and who likes to watch her sleep.
Shit, I bet there are a lot of mothers of teenage girls looking for the same thing.
The bad boy who has a heart of gold. (And in this case…eyes of gold as well).
The anticipation for that first kiss…and when it happens, the risk of losing it all…
I get it, I see it.
But what does it bode for our kids? Boys and girls…
Our girls are looking for a James Dean with a heart of gold, and superhuman strength. A boy who loves with his whole heart (”You are my heroin” is a HUGE thing to live up to)
Our boys are going to be expected to live up to that image.
I pity them all. The girls will be disappointed by the boys who don’t live up to their literary and fantasy expectations. And the boys, well, they will be confused. (I can say that. I have a son too)
Where will it end? The next Harry Potter will be out early this coming summer and it will be the same thing. Harry growing up, making his magic spells and looking every bit the man/boy in his oversize glasses. I can hear the teenage hearts fluttering already.
Twilight was good. Not great, but good enough. The effects were good..and I suspect they will be much better in the sequel. The tension was almost palpable..although I am not sure whether it was the on-screen chemistry of the players, or just the buildup of teen hormones and angst surrounding me in the theater.
I won’t dream of Robert Pattinson’s Edward tonight.
Maybe though, I will dream again of my long-ago James Dean. The one who set my own teenage heart atwitter, back in the day.
Ok Twilight Fan-girls. I get it.
“Let it go,” he whispered against my mouth.
“I can’t,” I said, pulling back. “What if its an emergency?”
I rolled over and reached the phone on the bedside table. “Hello?” I said, figuring I sounded pretty out of breath.
He rolled in close behind me, leaving a trail of tickly kisses across my ear and down my neck. I stifled a giggle. “Hello?” I said again. I was distracted by the feel of his lips as they worked their way down my spine in soft, butterfly kisses, but I heard enough to find that it was the front desk, concerned because I hadn’t answered the door when my bottle of wine was delivered. I hadn’t even heard the knock I thought to myself, swatting him away as his kisses ran lower and lower.
I quickly told the conceirge that I had changed my mind and no need for room service tonight.
I hung up the phone and rolled back over.
We were facing each other now, close enough to breathe each others’ breath.
He reached out and twirled some of my hair around his fingers. “I almost can’t believe this is happening,” he said. “After all this time.”
“20 years is a long time,” I agreed, touching his face, running my fingers along the side of his nose, the slope of his jaw. “I am so glad that we found each other.” I frowned. “I do feel bad about Julie though. I feel like I ruined things.”
He sighed and rolled over on his back, pulling me along with him so I was laying with my head on his chest. I felt my heart attune with the beat of his. “Julie and I were having problems way before you came into the picture,” he said. “You just helped me clarify it.”
“But its not fair that she gets hurt.”
He laughed sardonically. “I don’t think you should worry about that. Julie always has someone to take care of her. Remember my cousin Jim, from the party tonight?” I nodded and he continued. “Who do you think was keeping Julie company when we were in the bathroom together?”
My eyes widened. “Really?” I said.
“Really. I’ve known about them for a few months now, but I think it’s gone on longer than that.”
“Why didn’t you end things earlier then?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. When you and i were getting reacquainted these last few months, I was just so excited to be talking with you, I didn’t want anything to bring me down, least of all a scene with Julie. She’s the one who actually ended things with me a couple weeks ago.”
“Did she find my emails?” I said, tracing circles in his chest hair.
“I don’t know. She may have. She never told me if she did.”
He sighed and I didn’t speak. What was there for me to say?
We lay there for a little while, and I may have even started to drowse. Time seemed to stand still when we were together like this, snug in our coccoon of sheets and blankets.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I became aware of was the feel of his hands, up and down my back. Somehow I’d turned onto my stomach and I woke to the thrill of goosebumps as he ran his fingertips up and down my back and sides. I inhaled shakily and heard him laugh. “The princess awakes,” he said, continuing the mesmerizing flutter of fingertips on my back. I began to feel the melting feeling again.
“That feels so good,” I told him. “Don’t stop.”
He leaned over on top of me, so his mouth was close to my ear. “Don’t worry,” he said, his breath tickling my ear. “I’ve only just begun.”
He smiled at me and pushed the robe off my shoulders. It fell into the tub and splashed the backs of my calves with small warm droplets. I continued to look into his eyes as he rubbed his hands up and down my sides. “You have to believe me,” he said softly. “I love you so much. I thought you knew that.”
It was true that the emails between us–which had started as friendly notes between old friends–had gotten progressively more intimate. And come on, who was I kidding? I’d flown 500 miles to see him.
I opened my mouth to say something or another, and before I could speak he was pressing his lips to mine. I felt a surge, a jolt of electricity as our lips met, and then the warm slide into desire began. I staggered in his arms and he held me tighter.
Wordlessly, he helped me step into the tub and I stood in the calf-deep water. He found the washcloth on the side of the sink and poured my rose-scented bath gel onto it. Breathing deeply, he began to massage me with the warm soapy cloth. I closed my eyes, giving into the experience. He rubbed my neck in small circular strokes, and drew a long path up and down my back. It was almost hypnotic. I sighed when he stroked the backs of my thighs. Next he rinsed me with handsful of water, pouring it gently over my shoulders so it ran down my back, my breasts, my legs.
With a sly smile, he handed me a towel and I wrapped up in it and stepped out the tub. He led me by the hand to the bed. Turning back the covers, he motioned for me to get in.
As I slid under the covers, he began to quickly undress. I was still damp and getting chilly with the air conditioning on. That soon changed however, as he slid in next to me. His skin was hot and I could feel myself begin to melt all over again. He lay on his side and looked at me.
“I am so glad that we are here right now,” he said softly, grasping my hand.
I smiled. “Me too,” I whispered. My body was practically vibrating with desire. He leaned over and began to gently kiss my mouth, his lips warm and soft. I sighed into his mouth.
I felt a sudden bolt of electricity shoot thru the both of us and at the same time he pulled me toward him, his mouth now more demanding, his kisses more urgent. I met them with my own demands.
I pressed myself to him, skin to skin. He kissed my neck, my shoulders.
The room was spinning and I felt myself begin to let go, to loose myself in the sweet sensation of him.
That was when the phone rang.
I sighed and looked around. I made up my mind to have fun; after all, I’d travelled long enough to get here.
I walked around the edges of the room, avoiding the center area where it looked like it had been set up for dancing. There was one of those do-it-yourself parquet dance floors, and a CD player in the corner was playing the type of music I’d begun to associate with Julie–Bubble-gum pop interrupted by slow rock ballads. Another slow ballad started, a raspy voiced singer going on about his lost love.
I watched as Julie pulled him out to the dance floor. He looked reluctant, but resigned.
She pressed herself against him and they began to rock side to side. A few other couples joined them and I stepped back against the wall to let them pass.
I sighed, half watching the dancing and half staring into space.
Although I found the musical choice laughable, there was something to be said about being held in someone’s arms and moving slow. I sighed. I was becoming more and more sure that this was a mistake.
I made my way to the bathroom, with the intent of fixing my lipgloss and getting a break from the mock-80’s display on the dance floor. Stepping over a couple having what appeared to be a very intense conversation while sitting on the floor, I almost tripped and fell onto another partygoer.
“Whoa!” he said, catching me as I more or less fell into his arms.
“Thanks, ” I said, standing up straight.
“I haven’t met you before,” the man said with a smile. He held out his hand. “I’m Jim. Cousin to the birthday boy.”
I took his hand with a smile. I could see the resemblance now, between them. They each had the same seawater eyes and something about the shape of their noses. “Nice to meet you! I’m–” I was interrupted suddenly by the feel of a warm hand on my back, between my shoulderblades.
“I see you’ve met Jim.”
“Yeah, you could say we bumped into each other.” Jim snickered.
I smiled. “Where’s Julie?”
He shrugged. “The Macarena came on. I have my dignity.” Sure enough, I could see Julie and a few of her Barbie-clone friends shaking their money makers on the little dance floor.
“I’m getting another beer,” Jim said. “You guys want anything?”
I shook my head.
“Nah, we’re fine.”
Jim left and we were alone again. “I was just going to comb my hair,” I said, pointing towards the bathroom door. “I tripped and Jim caught me.”
He smiled. “C’mon.”
His hand was warm on mine and I enjoyed the shocky tingle that ran up my arm when our skin touched. He led us into the bathroom and closed the door. The music was instantly muted.
“Peace at last,” He said with a smile.
I stood there awkwardly. I wanted to touch his hands, his arms..but I didn’t know if I should, especially after watching him and Julie on the dance floor. Finally, I just opened my purse and took out my lipgloss. I faced the mirror and began to apply it.
He was standing just behind me, watching me as I applied the slick gloss to my lips. I caught his eye and he smiled. Still holding eye contact in the mirror, he reached around me and took the makeup from my hand, setting it on the edge of the sink.
I found it hard to breathe.
His left hand was on my left hip and his right hand brushed the hair off my neck. “Mmm” He said, leaning in. “You smell delicious.”
I felt him brush my hair with his face, and felt him move his head down lower. My eyes were closing with anticipation and I saw just before they closed all the way that he was leaning in to my neck. My skin cried out for the touch of his lips. I inhaled sharply, my whole body tense with desire to feel him. HIs hands were hot on my hips and I instinctively leaned back into him. His breath came closer to my neck…
So today a person from my mother’s past called me looking for her number.
This is the man that my mother eventually left my father for. He showed up every few years during their marriage, trying to get my mother’s attention..and whatever else. Eventually he got it and then eventually after that, she walked out of the marriage. (and soon after, he walked too)
Now, I have always been kind of glad that the marriage failed for many reasons. Mostly because it allowed my father to find his true love, my stepmother, whom my sister and I completely adore and see as a mother. There are other reasons too…issues of my mother’s that I was glad she had to deal with outside the marriage instead of inside.
The greatest blessing of course, is that my mother left us with our dad. She didn’t go far…didn’t move across the country until several years after they split, and so we did have to have visits and whatnot. But we were effectively raised by our father. My sister and I will be eternally grateful for that.
My mom’s greatest act of selfishness (what mother leaves her kids?) actually turned out to be our greatest salvation.
So anyway…
This guy called. It is no surprise that his name is M…That name is one of significance in my life in several ways, and in several people.
I left a message with my mother to call me. But its the weekend. There will be much drinking and whatever at her house and she usually keeps her phone off. And I will be working so I might not actually touch base with her for several days.
I emailed him, and told him that I’d called her and would give her his contact info when she called me back.
Hmm
So now I look back and wonder…
What if he HADN’T ‘courted’ her thru her marriage? What if she HADN’T cheated on my dad and left….
where would I be?
Certainly not where I am now. I defintely would not have done many of the things I did that led to the chain reaction of having my son and the family that I now have.
My kids are my life, my loves and my heart.
I am pretty grateful that it all worked out like it did.
Which begs one to wonder…is it ever okay to cheat in your marriage?
Sure my mother’s infidelity caused great amounts of pain for us all. But I can look back over 25 years and see now that things are how they are because of her initial act of deceit. So does that make it right?
Are there ever times in a marriage or relationship its okay to cheat?
Troths have been plighted, rings exchanged…and now what? Is fidelity really forever?
Are there special circumstances? Is there ever a good enough situation where stepping out not the wrong thing to do?
I am sure people rationalize their infidelities in many ways.
“S/He doesn’t listen to me like you do.”
“S/He doesn’t want to have sex anymore.”
“S/He cheated on me first.”
“S/He and I dont have the special connection that you and I do.”
“You and I are special, our relationship transcends my marriage.”
“S/He doesn’t love me.”
“I don’t love him/her.”
“What s/he doesn’t know doesn’t count.”
Are any of these legitimate?
So yesterday as I was driving home from work, I was thinking about relationships…friendships and romantic relationships and how the two can cross over in so many ways. You can have platonic friendships, love affairs, physical affairs with love or not love, or the ever popular ‘friends with benefits’.
I figured the thoughts were just a product of a tired mind after a brutal 12h shift, but then when I came home, I saw Alanis Morisette was going to be a guest on Letterman, and I got that song in my head that has the phrase ‘friends with benefits.’ Then, to just add to the mystery, I was visiting a friend’s blog and saw I was linked there and one of the tags was ‘friends with benefits’.
Damn. I guess I need to explore the issue!
Fiirst off, I am so very married for so very long…the chances of me ever having another relationship like that is pretty slim. Strange things would have to happen I suppose.
But I did have a relationship like that once, when I was much younger. Probably too young to appreciate and analyze the dynamics of such a relationship but not so young that I didn’t get hurt in that relationship, over and over.
“But baby, we’re friends, right?” was a common phrase back then, usually as he was leaving or as he was booty-calling me. (this was a long time ago–do they still use the phrase booty call anyway?)
Now, at my ripe old age of not-quite-40, I can look back on that time as five years of confused teenager/young adult and leave it at that. But what about now, at my age…is a friends-with-benefits relationship even possible in an adult relationship?
I would have to say yes but with reservations.
Both parties would have to have some degree of feeling for each other or else it would become one person using the other person. They would need to treat each other with respect, and the relationship would need some boundaries.
(If I could have said, back then, “you need to stop calling me from your girlfriend’s house” I would have been happier, I think)
The main rule in life is “An’ it harm none, do what ye will.” So yes, its okay to have a relationship like that, but harming none includes yourself; can you handle it knowing that the relationship, while based on friendship, is going to have a physical aspect without the romantic love? Some people can separate their emotions like that, some can’t. Which type of person are you?
If you can manage the physical intimacy and manage the friendship, while maintaining a sense of respect for each other…then I say go for it. You only live once. All acts of love are Her worship, in any case.
Think before you jump into it, though. What if one person develops stronger feelings than the other? What then? Do you break it off if he/she claims to now be ‘in love’ with you? Or do you continue? What if the two of you fall in love with each other? What happens then? What if you fall in love with the other person, who then tells you that he/she does NOT share the same feelings or worse…is in love with someone else?
Could you handle it?
There are so many definitions, so many different meanings, inferences, references and ideas…
I love so many people in so many different ways.
It varies from moment to moment sometimes.
And if I tell you I love you it can mean so much…
layers upon layers and
mixed up emotions.
There are some that I love off and on
and some that I love to the depth of my soul.
There are some that I love so much that it makes me cry
and others who’s love has been withheld so long that I barely register the feeling anymore.
Love is patient and kind and all that stuff..
but it burns and it hurts sometimes too.
Or it leaves an emptiness when not returned;
Sometimes you don’t notice it until you feel the lack of it,
Or the separation from the one you love.
It brings you to your knees
in agony or ecstasy.
It brings tears to your eyes
in joy or sorrow.
Love is elusive, slippery when wet
and oh so good when returned.
I don’t know…I’m not a philosopher,
but neither am I a saint;
good old physical love is a good way to spend an afternoon or night.
I used to get love and lust all mixed up, back in the day.
Hell, its easy when the hormones are raging.
Now I learned you can love and lust, and they can
be the same or different,
even within the same person to whom you are attracted.
I don’t know…
I’d love to hear other ideas…
how do you define love?
My skin aches for the gentle caress that has less to do with lust
and more to do with intimacy.
That soul-touch, that
unflinching eye contact that
plays music in the heart.
Only once have I heard that music…
The second half the missing piece
the coda on my symphony…
Looking looking always looking…
seeking something that likely will reside
in the end
in me.
She says She won’t be found without until She
is found within…Mother Goddess…
and if she is love
then my own love as well
my hidden secret symphony…
cannot be found until I find the same
in my own soul.
I just wish I had a little help.
white hot searing lights
cool chills and flashes of heat that grow
more and more
intense.
Hands grabbing, seeking purchase
as mind and body take flight.
there is a loss of self and sense of place
time is all time and only
right now.
a rising and then deep drop
a rollercoaster, if you will.
breathing rushes, pulse quickens
nerves tense like
well-stretched rubber bands
threatening to break and
oh, desire the break.
shivers turn to shakes turn to
sighs
warmth surrounds, suspends, envelops
self is gone
drowing sense is all that is left somewhere
left of the stars and
beyond that fabled rainbow.
Floating floating and then slowly drifting
down
to
earth.
Praying to be caught
and held
in strong arms.
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