Sunday, November 07, 2004 :::
I've been thinking a lot lately about my life, & the choices I make, morals I've instilled or rather, not instilled into the way I live my life. "I'm not dependant on anyone else, & no one's dependant on me. I'm single. But I don't have peace of mind, so what's it all about?"
I've made a lot of empty decisions, been unfulfilled by empty promises, yet accepted empty apologies from people who really don't have a place in my life, or rather don't disserve a place in my life simply because I'm afraid to be alone and I seek love. I hope that through sleeping with me or hooking up with me or whatever may occur in a physical way, that someone will discover how great I am. But that discovery needs to come before the physical.
On the other hand, I am young, why shouldn't I get my kicks while I'm still young enough to get them, experiance some purely convienent and casual encounters? I'm torn. Yes, it's fun, yes it gives me physical pleasure, & yes I have a lot of time to experiance something more meaningful, yet there is nothing worse then being in bed with someone else & feeling alone.
An ex of mine made a statement that bothers me, although I hate to give him that much credit, something along the lines of my sarcasm haltering me from having a relationship with someone who really cares about me. But it's really the opposite. When I feel as though someone doesn't really want a relationship with me, or only wants certain aspects of me, I use sarcasm to be able to accept that. So I understand it, I make excuses for it, it doesn't make it right, but it makes me me in some wierd way I suppose. Maybe its one of those comments that will stick to me even though it may not correctly define me as a person past, present, or future, it just makes me look at myself in a different way, through someone elses eyes. Like a comment someone made to me a few years back...it was something like "Do you always like someone & never do anything about it? Because that's sad." Or something like that. And even though it may not have changed the outcome in that situation, it at least made me handle future situations differently.
And I've been working on an old friendship that had some troubles, but I'm finding that time really changes people. Which isn't nececssarrily a bad thing, it's just bitter-sweet sitting with someone who you still care about very much but thinking about what strangers you've become to eachother.
I guess I've got time to figure everything out. I'm just trying to find the place to start within me.
It all comes down to the fact that I know I disserve more- more from life & from the people I accept into mine, I just have to stop accepting less.
I did some really bad writing the other night. Nothing publishable anywhere but here, nothing genius, but it worked its way out & surved that purpose. I will post one of them simply for selfish reasons, for purging the responsibility of my words from myself.
One Night Stand
I am having an affair with a lover who is warm & passionate.
The heat we produce leaves us with a sticky pool of sweat between our bellies,
windows fogged,
& bruises in all the right places.
The heat we produce:
Fresh heat, Pure heat, Raw heat.
Raw like the insides of my thighs, the flesh of my tongue, the tips of my breasts,
The tips of my fingers.
Poetry is my part time lover.
Each night he visits me I wet with anticipation of what part of me he might discover next.
Poetry is my part time lover.
But I am married, and my marriage isn't a bad one.
I cannot claim abuse or neglect, it is always new, creative, suppling me with security.
I am married to my job, yet it is my lover that supplies the release from the knots in my neck,
the hole in my heart.
Poetry is my part time lover.
And I suddenly understand the words of all of my ex-boyfriends when they told me they needed to see other people.
Poetry is my part time lover.
Often I contemplate leaving my marriage & forming the kind of union my lover & I disserve.
One not cloaked in the mask of the night, One not of lust, but of love.
But love is a buguoise ideal,
suffocated by responsibility.
And I always want my lover to be free.
Poetry is my part time lover.
And I guess that's why I'm single.
Still searching for a man to satisfy me like my lover, secure my like my husband, & have the durability to be able to accept them both.
I want a man not easily intimidated by my busy schedule and late night rendevous,
naked & afraid with a pen.
Poetry is my part time lover.
I want a man who while I search for meaning in my life & detail in my passions will discover me & name me for himself.
A man who won't be jealous of strange fingernail scratches, torn sheets & a slightly squeeky bed.
A man who will love the child I produce as though it were his own.
Because I am a bigamist, & I am selfish.
I want my lover, husband, & any future man to co-exist in my world.
I want all three in bed with me when I close my eyes at night.
One in front, one in back, & one easing my mind.
Poetry is my part time lover.
::: posted by Jen at 8:39 PM
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