When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it.
Love this quote so very much. I think the secrets of the universe are in here.
When is a fuckboi not a fuckboi?
Oh, when you just let them be them while you are being you and everything just works out because have shit to do while they are gone and also, you have completely forgotten how to girlfriend anyways so this is kinda perfect.
Fuckbois need love too.
It is my job to be a warm, safe place. I am a big ball of love after all.
Nay, nay they are not my safe space, I have women for that. I think that should be the natural order of things. Makes life, bearable.
Don’t get me wrong, I have had men in my life with whom I felt safe.
Okay, one before and one now. But they are definitely men. And I adore them for it.
I also have men (not quite) in my life that do truly just come in, fuck shit up and leave.
My bridges are flame retardant but come on…seriously. That is my girl, just don’t. (We will get to that another day, fucking poets)
Forget about them. I told you, it’s my memory and I can do with it as I see fit.
Lessons learned and a lot of life yet to live. No need to dwell in Mordor.
So, 48 hours ago I embarked on what I believe to be the best date I have ever had. Left with my soul, mind and body full. Sated beyond recognition. Not a fuckboi for the record, more like my kind of monster.
Still at a loss for words, except those ones up there.
Now. This date happened, beyond all doubt, because of a decision I made.
He pulled a ‘poof’. And I LET him. Didn’t bother fussing. Realized there was no point in getting mad or offended or upset.
And besides, I had shit to do.
Had I gotten mad, offended or upset, that date wouldn’t have happened.
The time I had spent with him before was satisfying. Why mess it up with covetousness?
90 day hiatus. Then this.
The location he chose was lovely, a Scandinavian spa 2 hours outside of the city. It was new to me and I loved it. But it was less about the location and more about the company.
I’ll spare you the details, mostly because I want to keep them between us, but there was one moment when we walked into a ‘resting room’ we laid on a wooden bench, head to head, arms up touching each other, perfectly quiet. And for an infinite number of moments I wanted for nothing. I was not hot or cold, hungry, thirsty, tired, lonely…just absolutely content. Everything just went quiet and my soul got to rest for a minute, with him and his.
It was…spectacular. The way Kevin Spacey says it in American Beauty.
For the two hour drive home, we talked about…wait for it….science.
(Seriously. Coolest shit ever.)
The conversation metamorphisized into this incredible thing that I barely have the English to describe. About how stars are formed, entangled particles, the double slit experiment, space time continuum and more. I am still reeling from it.
Epiphanies galore. Things I thought, and felt odd for thinking, explained with enthusiasm and patience for the questions I had.
Reminded me of this, from Parallels and Paradigms.
“We are building foundations for worlds that haven’t happened yet. The stardust coursing through my veins is magnetically compelled to pull them in. Touch them, learn them, exchange energies so when we meet again we will know each other.”
The next night I had a message from Our Lady Sara of Lord. Seems her Gelfling took himself a walk and ‘poof’. Fucking Gelflings.
I told her to wait.
Cited this date with Drogo I just had as the dangling carrot she needs to get through this. “Do not react, do not message. Just wait. Worst case scenario he doesn’t come back and you have this lovely amount of self-respect and control that you rightfully earned. Everything will make sense.”
I have been turning a thought over and over in my mind for a while now.
It was weird to hear it come out of another’s mouth.
He said “It didn’t feel like 90 days since I had seen you.”
I said, “It’s alright, I think time is relative. Like how it passes differently for hummingbirds and bees.”
This launched us into our amazing conversation. And time flew (smirk).
I have lots of jobs. One of them is to simplify, humanize and romanticize these odd tidbits of information that I think and hear.
There was that book called “Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars”. I haven’t read it but I feel like I should.
I was trying to prove a point and looked up “how time moves on Saturn”. A day is 11.5 hours long, but a year is 29.5 of ours. Okay, good answer. The article I read went on to say that ‘time is obviously the same’. NO IT FUCKING ISN’T.
My theory is that time moves differently for men and women. People in general, but a big discrepancy seems to occur between the sexes.
I don’t think I am wrong.
I also believe it can be bent on a personal level depending on mindset. There is proof that when in a crisis situation the adrenal gland is activated and technically time slows down. Look it up, its science or think back at your last traumatic event and you’ll know I’m right.
But don’t dwell there, please. Get back here. Now is nice.
“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.” Aleister Crowley…yep pretty much the law around here, I am most certainly doing what I fucking wilt.
And what they wilt? They all wander back because my door is open and it’s warm in here.
High School Sweetheart popped in to check on me today after 10 months of radio silence.
Young Un did the same.
Wolfling will in about 72 hours.
Drogo sent me a link about happy water.
Sara’s Gelfling is due back in 60 days. Universe says so.
As for MY Gelfling…when triple shines the single sun methinks. I’ll see where I am at when the time comes. I might be out, or washing my hair.
I’m not planning ahead. Just taking moments of bliss as they come.
Don’t agonize over the absence of others. If they’re meant to wander back, they will, in their own time.
All the rest is rust and stardust. ~ Vladimir Nabokov