reconvening

I don't know.  The only comfort is that nobody knows what the hell they're doing.  Nobody's got the answers, or can give the perfect advice, or can fix anything for anyone else.  I'm definitely not pretending to be graceful or appropriate.

My heart feels this way.  It feels this way and sometimes I act on things without stopping myself, with little foresight (because I have none), and I can't hide my feelings from anyone.

So Noah texted me earlier this week, to say hi basically, but also because he was clearly thinking about me.  I welcomed his conversation and told him I was happy to hear from him, and that of course I've been thinking about him.  We chatted a few minutes, and that was it.  In my head, nothing has changed, it's still a hopeless situation with no future between us, and I'm centered and collected.

But that's not really how I feel.  I feel like my heart is exploding for him, I'm angry that he obviously cares for me and misses me, but that he's scared of a relationship, and I crave his tenderness and attention.

That craving overcame me, and I felt like really I could meet him for drinks to catch up and that it would be platonic with little trouble, because I really just missed his company and wanted to know about how he's been.  I text him after work a few days ago, and invited him to meet me the next night, and didn't hear from him.  I grimaced as I told a friend that I hoped he didn't reply, so it wouldn't end up being the obvious temptation that I might not be able to withstand.  I continued not hearing from him that night, and imagined that I might have lucked out.

Well the next day he did accept my invitation.  And he seemed to be genuinely looking forward to it.

I met him at the Shelter, picked right up where we left off, talked cheerfully and easily as old friends, and at some point he mentioned his dismay that a friend of his had given up on a relationship.  He emphasized how much he believed in relationships, and I stopped him.  "This...coming from Noah?"  He said he believed in them, he just didn't know what to do with a relationship.  I left it alone.

After a few hours it was obviously time for us to call it a night.  He walked me to my car, and I gave him a hug, which I neglected to pull away from.  So we stood there, for at least ten minutes, embracing.  We exchanged "I've really missed you"s and tightened our arms around one another.  He kneaded his hands into my back, and I worked my fingers into his tight neck muscles.  I said I was sorry for still holding on to him, and he said he wasn't about to stop me.  He sighed, and then said, "I'm half-tempted to suggest that we finish this backrub the right way at my house."  For a minute, I didn't say anything, but then I said, "If I say yes, will you say yes?"

"If you say yes, I'll definitely say yes.  It might be a huge mistake, but I would say yes."  He told me.  So we pulled apart and agreed to meet at his place.

Noah has always fallen over himself to do kind and generous things for me.  He insisted that I get a massage first, because he "owed" me.  It was so appreciated, because I really did need the work on my muscles, and because I could feel his heart pouring onto me.  And at the end of it, I just happened to be shirtless.  And then it was his turn, and I got to touch him again, and care for him and tend to him.

Being intimate with Noah has always been better when we were more sober.  I felt very present, because I wanted to experience every detail.  I needed it, his touch, his embrace, his passion for me.  I needed to have him wrapped around me as he fell asleep.

I don't pretend that this means anything for us, as if we might get back together.  He's still obviously in a bromance with his friends, and they serve as easy insulation in a pinch (read: when the fear of getting too close kicks in).  But I'm sorting it out again, from a much more complicated angle, because that whole night it was very obvious that this man loves me.  He mentioned in many ways how he likes people like me for a host of flattering reasons.  He said we definitely need to hang out more often.  He kept my self-portrait that I sneakily took on his phone a day or so after he got it.  He mentioned how he was telling his family about my brother's woes with a recall part for his hybrid, and how they had a big discussion about it.  He paid very close attention to my subtle stretching out my aching back, and insisted I explain why it hurt so much.  He told me how I ought to meet his mom, because she and I could relate to one another about our passion for art history.  He knows me well, he gets me, and he takes care of me.

And dammit I'm so angry that he's afraid of a serious relationship with me.  How can my feelings for him change?  I told him that night, "Noah, it's you.  It's you.  You don't like me saying this, but you're special."  And I mean that.  And of course he balked at it, but it's true.

Maybe I've fucked myself over by not being strong.  I don't know how I'm going to replace a man like him.  I don't know how I'd ever hope to trump the incredibly high standards he has set for men I date.  Hopefully this isn't going to leave me on the brink of tears for another two months.  At least the communication between us is a little more forthcoming, at least in the areas where it wasn't before.

I'm angry that the situation isn't any different.  Well, maybe it's different in some ways, like I drew my line in the sand, and I got things off my chest I should have done ages earlier.  But also, maybe he has gotten to see what his life is like without me in it, and how I was a good thing for him.

Anyway, the energy I poured unabashedly into him and his life and his social circle I am now reserving more for myself, my friends, my garden, and my students.  I'm dating a little and I've already seen how other men still can't compare to him.  I am trying to honor my center and my need to be centered.  I'm not going to obsess over this heartache forever, and I'm going to let myself heal, dammit.

But I think I can already see that I'll be in love with this man all my life.  Whether that means anything for our paths down the line, who's to say?  I'm nobody and I've got no answers.  I just want to love and I'm trying to survive my pursuit of it.

reemergence

Sadness has a particular weight, a palpable flavor, and a noticeable drag on one's momentum.  If one is fortunate enough to have supportive, compassionate friends who forgive the momentary lapse in bubbliness and positive outlook, who encourage one to embrace the sadness for its lessons and transformative properties, one might emerge from sadness a better, stronger person.

A long time ago...well, let's say it was just a year ago, actually, I went to the plant nursery and bought a large milkweed in a pot.  It had a thriving ant colony in the soil, it had blooms, and mature, ripe pods with fluffy seeds poking out.  I was so excited to start attracting native pollinators, in this case queen and monarch butterflies, to my back yard, which at the time was still at an undecided level of productivity.

I collected the seeds from the pod once I got home, put them in a baggie, and waited eagerly for signs of caterpillar consumption.  One day I found one!  A lovely little white-, black-, and yellow-striped creature clinging to a long, narrow stem.  I imagined this was just the beginning of a prolific butterfly raising farm in my tiny patch of earth.

The next time I checked, the caterpillar was gone, with no evidence of its transformation or clues to its whereabouts.  In fact, what I found was much worse--some of my plant was actually gone!  It was clipped at the base of the stem, a few inches from the soil.  Each day that I checked, more was gone, until I finally discovered that a wood rat had been destroying half of my back yard.  After a number of months, I was able to trap her and relocate her to the desert to make a life for herself that was less pesky to humans.  But my garden had taken a serious hit while she foraged daily; cactuses, pepper plants, okra sprouts, agave, and various other things were either severely damaged or completely demolished.  The milkweed was gone.

I had given up on my yard for a while; I wouldn't go out there and some other sad events made sitting in my own little space rather unappealing.  Grim.  My recycling overflow was basically the only purpose my back patio served for months.

Then spring came around.  The temperatures warmed up a little bit, some sunlight started making it over the building, and shining directly onto the soil.  I got inspired to start sowing seeds, watering, and cleaning it up a bit.  Feeling impatient for a result, I increased my efforts and planted more seeds, in a greater variety, and watered longer.  I planted the old milkweed seeds in the original pot with its compatible soil.  I put all manner of vegetable seeds in pots and in the amended soil I made, and I started composting my fruit and veggie scraps in the least productive section of my yard.  I kept watering.  I tidied up a bit.

I saw a few sprouts right away, actually.  The morning glories came first; they're so reliable and they volunteer themselves every summer.  My squash and green beans burst out of the ground.  My succulents flourished.  I spent more and more time barefoot and tending to these little green organisms who rewarded my attention with sturdy stems, broad, lovely leaves, and rapid growth.  My compost heap erupted cantaloupe sprouts, and the vines quickly and vigorously spread everywhere.  I was inspired to plant more seeds, including watermelon, okra, peppers, tomatoes, and succulent clones.  My yard was taking off!

It wasn't without hope, it wasn't just resting, recovering.  Taking the necessary time to deal with difficult conditions.  It was always going to rebound, in due time, with the right investment of love, attention, and resources.

I've been planting new seeds in my love life, too.  There was a little lag time, which made me worry that I wasn't putting the right vibes out there, that I wasn't being a positive magnet for my own experiences, but really I guess the seeds just needed time to germinate.  Time and the right combination of love.

My garden suffered when I stopped cultivating it; I could very possibly have grown winter vegetables, herbs, and fruits, if I had tried anything at all.  Instead, all I could focus on was what was lost and grieve over that loss.  But when I finally poured my loving energy into it, it flourished and shined love at me in return.

My heart has also suffered these past couple of months that I have been grieving.  My worries and doubts took over like weeds in my untended plot of land.  I neglected fighting them off, moving them out of my healthy space.  I took time to let my plot rest during the difficult conditions, and when it was time I began removing those weeds of doubt and fear.  I started showering my heart with love again.  I planted seeds of hope and gratitude, and trusted that they would survive.  I watered and they returned.  And now my heart is a healthy, lush, green garden of love and optimism again.  My garden is an extension of my heart.  Those peaceful vines and herbs and shrubs and tiny beasts occupying that tiny space are inseparable from my heart.

That love energy flows through and throughout.  The energy pools and sometimes is impeded but only needs some tending to flow freely again.

rehearsal

Please forgive me for this impersonal delivery--I ought to just talk to you like I always should have, but I'm scared of talking feelings and clamming up or stumbling over my words. I've got no guts. I'm an emotional person and I'm terrified that I'll cry my eyes out if I pour my heart out. This has been a month of painful heartache for me, since I'm just enamored with you but it seemed one-sided and I felt foolish for giving you my heart when you didn't want it. I adore your friendship, and had anticipated taking some time and space to pull myself together so that I could be a good friend to you, but seeing you everywhere and hearing from you has confused my heart, and I worry that I'm misunderstanding and misinterpreting your attention. I love being in your presence, and I'm so sorry that I do not have the courage to simply express something this important. I miss you like crazy, but I thought you made it clear that you had priorities that did not involve having a girlfriend. I wasn't expecting to change your mind on my behalf, but I realized that that's what I really wanted from you--your heart. I owe you so much more than this awful text message, but I am in limbo and cannot make sense of this in my head.