Here we had our first snowfall last night. I stood outside as it was falling and breathed deeply. Although it was maybe just an inch, it covered everything so beautifully. The air was so moist and so clarifying. I loved it! My smile was genuine and reached my soul - I am still alive after all.
As for this weekend, please cue up Chris Issak for the soundtrack to hear about the date:
OK it wasn't like that at all, but I do love that song.
I had a hella lot of fun on Friday night. So much fun that it spilled over into Saturday. I did get my body warm and more than the required quota of hugs, kisses, and love bites for one night. I also got snoring, sheet-hogging, morning breath, and a dog that doesn't know what to do with himself when there's a guest in the house.
James is a bad Italian Jersey boy, wounded vet of desert storm gulf war, damaged goods of an 18 year old marriage that ended with her cheating on him. In short, all he wants is to be free of pain and commitment. To the point where he literally gave up all his worldly possessions, moved himself back to his roots, and is starting over from the ground up. Said he needed to purge himself of "things that don't matter" like a 6 foot entertainment center. Now all he wants to do is work hard, make a few good friends, and have fun. Mid-life crisis? No, he had that at 30, ten years ago.
Well, sure, and who could blame him? There are just as many women out there turning into cougars (I swear I'm on the verge) as there are men prowling about for a feel-good time.
I'm sure I'll see him again. I'm just left with lingering inner angst I guess.
This is the part that I am getting really good at, which I generalized for the purpose of expression, but basically this is the early evening conversation over drinks:
The guy, all serious: "I'm not looking for anything serious, no commitments. I want to keep it casual. Been burned too many times, you know...."
The girl, confused: "Right, so like friends....?"
The guy, aiming for an understanding: "Well more than friends. Really a fun time with a friend." Translation: sex
The girl, as the light dawns on her: "Friends with benefits." Translation: yes
The guy, happy to have been understood: "Yeah, no commitment but fun. Lots of fun."
The girl, can't believe she understands man-speak: "Right."
I guess somewhere, somehow two wrongs make a right nowadays?
My random thoughts don't really make a poem, but they sure do run about in my head enough to need putting down here.
This is not our parent's world of dating. (Aww gee, Beav.)
This is not even our childhood's world of dating.
This is the somewhat hopeless new world of dating.
You fall into this world from a divorce or a lost love,
and you know it isn't going to go the way you want.
You shift your priorities, lower your standards,
and hope someone will see just how much fun you are
Fun enough to keep you around? Not like last time.
No. Hell no. Your mind rages, this can't be the way.
But what else is there?
If you enjoy the moment of fun, you've given the guy all he wants.
Did you get what you want?
Just to be held, to feel a shred of comfort,
to know the warmth of another's body, to know your caring soul still exists.
If you don't, you continue to be alone,
waiting for someone who thinks the way you do?
What are the chances?
Some wait a year. Some wait seven.
My mother gave up the rest of her life.
You're not getting any younger or prettier.
You might get thinner. You might not.
You're getting more cynical. Jaded. Bitter.
Like sands through the hourglass,
so are the days of our lives.
Buck up camper, at least you've got dogs, cats, friends,
and the ability to laugh about it all
when you're not crying.
Losing Weight; Finding Men
"Never make someone a priority in your life when you are just their option."