On the committed relationship field....The first, John, my high school love, blonde haired, blue eyed, long story short...the relationship was a tremendous sexual awakening for us both, we learned a lot, grew a lot, loved a lot, but then he went to West Point, we broke up when I met relationship number 2....revisited 20+ years later and it ended way, way badly. Turns out he became definitely borderline abusive and potentially alcoholic...and married...though he made it seem otherwise. (This may become a theme, it seems. My bad.)
#2. Blonde haired...blue eyed...engineering major, Resident Advisor (RA), sweet, conservative, intelligent, taught me to ski...lent me his computer to type papers on...pretty much set my young soul on fire...he cheated...lied...who would have believed this from that beautiful boy next door...but really...he was lovely...we were young...made love on a rock (a big one) in the middle of a field in broad daylight once. Have to say, I dig that memory. (broke up with me for God, in the end....couldn't come to terms with our relationship and his god thing....)
#3. My Greek love. To this day, in 45 years of life...the only guy in my whole life who ever asked me out (that I accepted). He taught me to explore. To live. To laugh. To sing. To dream. To reach for something bigger, better, higher, more fulfilling.... To be. Grateful to you, Stavros, every single day for that. Obviously, that didn't work out. He was destined to marry only a Greek girl, as per his parents' wishes...though he married two American girls in the end. C'est la vie. It was lovely and I wouldn't trade the experience. Truly. Madly. Deeply.
#4. Richard. My first husband. The one of three that I didn't give a fair shake. I was the bad guy in this scenario. Way bad. Beautiful, deeply sensitive, tender, kind, loyal, loving, thoughtful, cautious, wonderful, Richard. We went through the suicide of his best friend, who we found after the fact, and married. After he proposed at night at South Beach at the lighthouse in Hilton Head, he revealed he had cheated on me....and it made him sick...and he hated himself for it...and I never forgave him. I suck. I made it about me....and never dug deeper. The guy loved me. He married me. And I tortured and tormented him for an indiscretion that happened after his best friend killed himself. I suck. The upside...he is remarried to a wonderful woman and had two beautiful children and is doing amazing things in the world that I always knew he would do because that's just who he is. I'm eternally grateful for the experience of knowing and loving him...and being loved by him.
#5. Scott. Husband #2. Surfer, artist, tall, blonde, blue eyes...odd - I am more attracted to darker skinned, Mediterranean men with brown eyes, but always marry the fair haired guy. What's that about? He was wonderful in his own right, but he gave me too much room to be me...entire room...to the point of never being involved with me at all unless I was doing exactly what he wanted. Which usually involved watching him surf...or paint..or draw...but never really being involved with me. In the end, he didn't seem sure if he liked girls or boys or both...told me I was repressed when I didn't want a threesome. Oh well... After September 11, when everyone else was clinging together and realizing what they had, I realized I wasn't where I wanted to be and I left. Best thing for both of us.
#6. Didn't happen till I waited a full five years to be on my own and get to know myself and hopefully not repeat my mistakes. However...I repeated them with a vengeance. Rob. Red hair. Brown eyes. Seemingly good, down to earth, sweet guy who was my age and knew all the stuff I knew....relate to the same things...said all the right things...asked me to marry him almost immediately. Had two boys. 12 and 15 at the time. I fell for it. Dived in with complete abandon and totality as is my nature, obviously, I didn't think it through. I was craving what I had denied myself for 5 years and went all in. The upside. The experience was amazing with the boys and the chance to be a mom of sorts. The downside? I almost lost my soul and myself in a relationship that, to put it lightly, just wasn't meant to be. He might have been a little manic depressive...or some other things. He was definitely not cool nor relationship ready. And somehow involved with someone else the whole time who he is now married to...but I am totally grateful for the experience because I learned some much needed things about myself. And people.
#7. Doesn't really even count. Lasted a few months, barely. Dave. Had known him for six years through work. Always found him interesting, yet someone I'd never go for because he was cheesey and sort of playerific. I've definitely learned what a little (or a lot) of alone time can do to me...and so we got together...right before I moved to Abu Dhabi. Literally...we got together Halloween weekend, and I moved here November 14. But for whatever reason, we decided it was the be all, end all and decided to call it a relationship. So, it ended in February. After a two week visit with him. I think he'd already decided it was over. And it made sense. I didn't want it either. But I was blind sided. Dumb struck. And felt like at my age, I was just failing again. Really, no. He did me a favor with the micro-weekend relationship. We shoulda just had fun and enjoyed it. But, both tried to make it into something else. It wasn't necessary. He's a great guy, it turns out. Ridiculously smart. Interesting. Same values. Pretty great kisser and all that stuff. But, timing wasn't right.
Cut to... Today. December 29, Abu Dhabi. Not exactly a land rich with dating ripeness. At least for people my age. The fellas here, expats, seem to be frat boys regenerated. They wanna party, stay out till 6am, get wasted, bed as many women as they can, etc, etc, etc.... That wasn't my bag when I was in college....and certainly isn't my bag now. So. It may well be that I will be alone for -who knows how long? And you know what, that really is ok by me. Completely. I am looking for real. Quality. Long term. Endless conversations. An explorer partner. A love, a real love.
Oh. Yes. If you've been reading any of my stuff or if you know me, you may have gleaned that I did meet someone. My Outlaw. Someone who did make everything that hasn't worked out so far make sense. Someone who, made actually everything make sense. Someone who I got (get) and who got or gets me on all the levels. (That doesn't happen often...or ever). The One. (What does that mean when it turns out they aren't, even if they say they are?). Could be we could name this #8, or we could name it #1, as it was definitely on a far different plane than anything else I have ever been a part of or experienced. I choose not to label or number it. We know what it was and what it is. And while I am wholly sad that it ended, I am awake and alive because it happened.
If you're reading this, my Outlaw. Thank you. You changed me. Believed in me. Saw me...the real me, and loved me anyway. Brought me back to life. And reminded me of everything that is fundamental. Primary. If things were different, well, then they'd be different. But they aren't. To wish they were would be to wish something that isn't fair to wish. To you or to anyone. And that's a wish I cannot make. You exist. That's enough.
If you are a future love of mine and are reading this and find yourself wary or intimidated, well....I can assure you, if you put your fears aside, and buckle up....you won't be sorry. You're in for the ride of your life (provided you're available). Trust your heart. Trust your gut. Trust your instincts. Trust me. Go with it. I have no idea who you are or might turn out to be, but, if you're out there... Welcome, and let's do this thing. Life's way too fucking short for all this pussyfooting around. Dontchathink?
Ok then...I'm certain there will be more on this topic come New Year's Eve, when I settle in for some Indian delivery dinner and a bottle or so of wine and my thoughts. Til then, kisses to all.
Love and light- truly~
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