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Feeling strangely out of sorts. Well, not so strange. Just something I'm still not used to. Maybe never will be.
I love; they love. But when someone with whom I share love is off sharing a different love (or whatever it is) with someone else, I feel the earth sliding away from beneath me a bit.
You know, if I knew she or she was truly, blissfully happy with whomever, maybe I'd feel better about it. But that's impossible early on. Explorations and uncertainties are inescapable pieces of the process. We shared those once too.
I am just being selfish.
Amongst my father's things was a kaleidoscope with a side-hole for inserting these sparkly fluid-filled plastic things that look like magic wands. There was also a pair of sparkly fluid-filled plastic magic wand things. I remember my sons playing with this a decade and a half ago.
I have the lot to S since she interacts with kids.
Later she found her little son experimenting with it, playing with it, really enjoying it. It was a hit. And instead of aging in an old box, was out in the world lighting up eyeballs.
This made me happy.
Time to whine.
Big do tonight, an hour's drive away in the mountains. Got a room and everything so I don't have to run the police gauntlet at closing time. But now?
Sick? Tired? Feverish, or nearly? Dunno, but I have zero enthusiasm and just want to sleep. A little warm, dried out, sneezy, tired, tired, tired.
Only one solution: Step up and ignore all symptoms. Get my stuff ready. Throw together some random assortment of clothing oddments. Be all happy and energetic when get together with partner. Push myself, push push push.
It's what burners do. Can faint later.
Snow lay in shaded patches of the foothills as we made our way to Nevada City to celebrate the Burnal Equinox. The ancient brick walls of the Miner's Foundry rang with dance floors and stages for musicians, its iron plate shutters and arches were enhanced with lights and hangings and other finery, and its rear yard was jammed with pavilions, domes, fire-breathing art cars, and space for the fire spinners. Celebrants embraced friends at every turn while the virgins -- people who had not been to Burning Man -- gaped and grinned. We all danced and feasted and had a blast.
Spring came on awfully fast. Today I walked under redwoods and dogwoods at dusk with no sweatshirt, just in short sleeves. Once the sun was gone it got cold fast, but not unbearably. Meanwhile sunlight played between the branches and danced across the waters, singing gaily that this year there was simply going to be no winter. Quite the contrast with last year.
I felt misty when I walked away from signing tax forms. My ex has released her anger, I think, and calmed down, and sometimes these shifting sands contrast less well with her rocky but uniquely understanding shores.
A scattering at sea, they call it, though it will really be in the Bay. Dad didn't contract for family in attendance. His cousin's wife thinks he shouldn't be dumped overboard alone, though. So now I'm coordinating a boating event I don't particularly want to attend and for which I have almost no free weekends.
If I really didn't want to go, I'd have no problem not going. But I might want to, especially as the day approaches. So, there is one day that works for me, and which I shall propose. Holy Saturday. Perfect day to sink an atheist.
I like how you don't have to come up with a title for this. Just write.
You don't have to decide a theme (though you can). Just write.
You don't have to write anything in particular. Just write.
So my ex step sister drove two hours to return me my father's gem collection and I took her to dinner. I think she feels a little rushed out -- we hadn't had a decent long conversation in over a decade. But I got other stuff to do and frankly, I know where my truer interests lie.
The gems are prettier than valuable.
Blessings accompany me. "Enjoy your weekend to the fullest!" There is no hint of jealousy, indeed quite the opposite. Cheer. Happiness. Delight. By now, I am used to this. But being used to it does not make me complacent or unappreciative.
She grins open-mouthed, excited, at every possibility.
"There's a woman I ..." Open grin.
"Maybe you could meet ..." Open grin.
"Maybe she and I will learn from you and find us a playmate ..." Big open grin.
I talk about you, can't help it, subject comes up, not a problem. And this weekend, she will find her fun.
You gaze at me, your green eyes rich with affection, understanding, love, and say you love the way I look at you; and when I look at you I see years going back into your history, years going forward to the very end, some of which I know I will share, I see all those years compressed into affection, understanding, love, encompassing me and all I am becoming, those years comprehended yet with no present meaning; for it is only the present that has meaning, this moment right now, you reading this, and me seeing you and you seeing me.
You walk with grace, a natural elegance. Elegance is born of what? Confidence in poise, economy in taste. I'm not sure. But I see it when I know it.
Your outfit truly was elegant, and how you wore it. A skirt that hugged your hips as I do, boots with the belts flopping, a shoulder-bare faux-military blouse, my body paint, your faux-fur bolero, the fascinator made with a plush octopus. And that fibre-optic hairpiece creating a red constellation around your face had the effect of an old Spanish veil made of lace: Very pretty. Very pretty.
We love one another and one another's company. There is warmth and love and trust and support and an overall consistent good feeling. We couldn't live together, though. Not now, anyway. We're each prone to solitude once our needs are (temporarily) met, and our disparate habits would require compromise and patience. These are qualities neither of us needs any more of at this stage in our lives. We have a lot of it for each other! And as needed elsewhere. But the time for lifelong compromise has not yet arrived. And who knows, we might become cranky old people anyway.
Here it is seven o'clock, and I'm still at work. What an idiot. Why, you ask. Well, certainly because I have a lot to get done. But if I felt good about my efforts today, I would have left around five. Never mind that I came in late, having arrived at the airport at eight thirty. A good day earns a timely exit.
I rarely if ever have that good day. Too much time in distractions. Little ones: bloggery, facebookery, um, not sure what else. And I did move forward on this project. Just not nearly enough. Not at all.
Woke with alarm at six, got up when heard a text, shaved, took a shower. Had a counseling appointment at seven thirty so left house at seven. Drove along, annoyed at the lost hour of work, got there just in time, on a whim checked Latitude. Oh, I thought, she's at work an hour early.
Didn't need alarm yesterday morning because of air travel home. Forgot last night to change clocks. Didn't pay attention to phone clock. When got to appointment, it was not seven, but eight thirty.
Paid for it, of course.
A simple reminder I'm a fucking idiot.
Just past lunchtime. I'm gonna go home sick. I'm not sick. I'm tired. Burnt. Too much internal drama. And I haven't had time at home for over a week. I need to catch up on real life. Don't feel so good anyway. Headache since yesterday. Aforementioned drama.
I have to own it. Theoretically I am fine with the activities of my beloved ethical sluts. Somehow, though, at some level, I might be reaching a limit. Or maybe just a new flavor to get used to. Dunno.
I teeter on an edge: Badly wanted, yet nearly finished.
I didn't work very hard to prepare, yet I was more or less ready. Had sent a version of the document out and got a fair amount of email feedback. Then the meeting. Pretty good discussion. Points were captured live in the screen sharing software. Some side discussions were deferred, or pushed off to non-attendees (e.g. overseas). Ended early.
Had a sheen of sweat on my back but felt good.
Met with the boss, was able to say I'm on track, on schedule. He's not worried. So I'm not worried.
Even so, I feel I'm fooling somebody. Who?
I love a good heavy rainstorm. Sheets of water flowing across the roadway, collecting into ephemeral lakes that take flight with each passing car. The downfall stippling the asphalt, a drifting matrix of tiny splashes, patterns shifting and merging. A cozy contentment as the rain drums along the roof and windows while the car is warm and dry and filled with music.
Cars pass by, distorted shadows in the murk.
Stoplights flash defiantly. Trees nod in rhythm with the wind.
A solitary figure slouches at the intersection, head bowed to fate, a tarpaulined shopping cart bearing all she has left.
Earlier this week I was a centimeter from breaking it off. That look in her eye as she re-appraised me after a six-day absence, that direct observation followed by a very slow nodding ...
"It's starting to come back," she said, "why I like you."
'Pon reflection, that was not a compliment, her temporary new lover notwithstanding.
But I waited for a settling of feelings, and she continued to remember; and I learned she had actually been in a sort of panic.
She's never fallen in love before, ever. She doesn't know what she should really do about me.
Greed. I have had to recognize that greed is my motivator in this.
The letter from beyond the grave was quite clear: He wanted her to have the gem collection. If she doesn't want it, I can do with it as I wish. But she wants it.
I hadn't read it in awhile and misremembered. Thought I had discretion. Wrong.
I asked myself why it mattered, and decided it probably wouldn't if the collection wasn't worth upwards of thirty thousand dollars. I struggled with handing that much off to his lady friend. But she was very important to him. So.
Damn, I really don't feel like writing today. But I wouldn't cop out and just repeat a word over and over. That is a contemptibly lazy practice. I can dig being lazy, but not stupid-lazy. Just stream-of-consciousness lazy, as I am now.
Wrestling with tools, I am. In my biz, "tools" refers to computer programs of enormous complexity that are used to design enormously complex things. Circuit boards, integrated circuits, logic images for same. As usual I'm asking them to do things they weren't designed for. So I must jump through hoops and entice them to follow.
Truth and honor won the day, as they must. I took the rest of the gem collection to her, less a small tanzanite we had given him for his birthday one year. It included some items, including a teeny tiny diamond, she had given him.
The collection was an activity they shared. It is only right that he will it to her, and that she get it.
I took sunset pictures along a bay shore unfamiliar to me. Century-old remnants of industry lurked in out of the way places. A jetty decayed in the mudflats. A train passed by.
This railroad continues, with its ups and its downs.
S and I are double-dating Saturday but tonight is our only chance before then to get together and already it's been three days and then, we only sat in a parked car for an hour and talked.
So I look forward to it but I am distracted by an unexpected date tomorrow with G. Her idea. I want to know what's up. I am open, it may as well be said, to anything.
Anything that has no impact on S and N.
Meanwhile, I'm all happies for N and D!
Since my vast reading public here at 100words wonders how my dates of the past two nights went, here we go.
Wednesday, S was comforting a friend with scary breast cancer test results, I went there, got fed, met friend's husband and four little children, then took S away, brought her back to her car after a bit so she could go be with her little children.
Thursday, G postponed to tonight, I said ok, she has no idea how unusual it is for my schedule to be so open to change, I went to shop instead, worked on lighthouse.
Made a sandwich on sourdough. My mouth waters at thought of it. Once at work I realized I left it on the kitchen counter.
Skipping lunchtime gym today to complete more increments on my project. Work through lunch etc. Damn thing is getting later every hour because of the bitter realities of using the tools. Most of the morning was lost to an odd blocking issue no one else had seen before. We fixed it, but.
My memory of G is fond in part because of the role she filled in October. I don't need anyone in that role now.
To see G is to enter an alternate universe; an alternate to my alternate.
I was clear from the very beginning I wouldn't renounce my girls. She understood I love multiply, openly, unjealously; and very selectively. She was game.
And last night she plied me with drink but as she watched the evening unfold her heart spoke against it. She wanted me, she missed me -- as I missed her, after my fashion -- she got naked with me in her hot tub. But her heart said no, not with the shadows of others in the room.
There were tears; I left.
Another day on, I have to question why I really went out with G on Friday. What did I really want.
Touch base. See what she was thinking. I sorta missed her.
But really? Maybe I just hoped she wanted to have sex again. After all, it had been four months. Variety.
I felt my doubts before she expressed hers. After so much chatter about her life as a loan officer, I realized I was bored. Really bored! And I've learned really well lately that there is no reason for me ever to spend time on someone who is boring.
Signed a new lease today and asked about the gate. It was broken shut over the weekend. Had to use the rear gate, which is normally locked all weekend. Chain had busted and wrapped itself round the spindle. Manager said repair guy insisted the board was no good anymore too. She was skeptical. Just a way to get another three hundred bucks out of her. But that's the tough life of an apartment manager in the suburbs.
I said well when the chain wrapped itself up, maybe the motor overheated and burned out the board.
Normal people don't like engineers.
Good lowered it's amazing how tedious a design job can be. It's not especially creative. Up to me to implement other engineers' requirements. I am of course copying as much circuitry as possible. Bad form to spend time re-inventing the wheel.
So I look and study and determine what to re-use. I'm just amazed at how tedious it is. I have to take stupid little breaks every four and a half minutes.
Tonight I take my father's tax info to my ex wife so she can do his taxes. There's a person with an admirable tolerance for tedium.
Learning a lot about myself. Not sure what to do with the information. Not sure what the information is.
Had an anxiety attack during the informational meeting with a psychiatrist. Tears and everything. WTF? Was suddenly overwhelmed by decisions to schedule classes and follow-ups.
Very similar to the chaotic cloud that my job seems like. Difference is, at my job I can soothe myself with bad habits (internet time-wasters).
Right this minute I am struggling with diving back into the work. Feels like diving into a pool of broken glass. Isn't really, of course, so here I go ...
Had a really good chatty stroll round the parking lot at the end of the workday with yet another new prospect for my iniquitous schemes. Those of you who meet lots of interesting people, either from being an extrovert or a gorgeous female or whyever else, may not grasp the significance of discovering good chemistry at random. In fact, we talked about that randomness. Our offices were nearby for several years with nary a glance, yet we met at the cafeteria opening. I said something banal when she asked the trumpet player for his card, and cheerful hallway hello's followed.
So many feelings.
I am happy you are comfortably cocooned with someone you love.
I am happy you are at a great concert with some fun people. Thank you for the phone pictures.
I am happy to have spent an evening getting acquainted with you and talking polyamory and Burning Man and personal histories.
I am happy we met at random like that. Our chemistry is amazing, and I want to know more. I know I am sure to discover poly / open loving will be a no go for you. Our flirting is fun but the end will be sad.
So I expand outward. I respond to a handful of unsolicited dating site messages and meet a very nice woman for dinner. I strike up a conversation at work, become a wee bit infatuated, and establish we will go for drinks next week.
And you both expand outward too, by your own methods.
It's a rich landscape but sometimes I have to admit that I could be perfectly happy with just the two of you. You love so well, and I feel it every day.
I want you to continue your paths. My love encompasses that much. Could be enough.
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