Crave – Coexist
“I’m just trying to love you for a minute”
Crave will go down in the books.
I don’t yet have words to tell you what happened. About the best sex ever, about fucking around with a beautiful stranger. About three very satisfying meals shared. About sharing with Crave a pot of good strong coffee on a sunny Sunday morning when it had been raining on Saturday night.
The rain came down
and then the sun came up.
out came the sun and dried
up all the rain… and the
itsy bitsy spider climbed
up the spout again
thirsty for water and affection.
Tonight, I read her blog entry that she wrote yesterday, sitting in my bed after we fucked/cried. I barely read through the whole thing in the living room, but when I got to the end, I stood up and came into my room to cry some more. Until just then, I had only been leaking tears and choking on words, but tonight, just now, I sobbed into my bedspread. The song I just posted started playing on my iPod, like clockwork. I haven’t cried like that since my dad died. I feel like my heart is trying to break out of my chest, trying to get to hers, trying to heal.
I haven’t cried since the Body Electric workshop in New York city, since the last time I was supposed to meet her and things didn’t work out. I have needed to cry for a very long time. Before, the timing was all wrong. She had some things to sort out, and I had something else to learn – I had to be at the workshop and get as much out of it as I possibly could. Which I think I did.
Somehow the timing lined up. The waste bin in my room is lined on the bottom with our tissues – certainly not wasted. No. I find that since I cry very little, none of my tears are wasted on insignificant things. I don’t love her romantically, I don’t. But I loved her quickly – that simple love for someone simply because they are human. Simply because they are here. She said, “I’m just trying to love you for a minute” – as was I, her.
I will tell you about the fucking another time, about the love bite / bruise in the cleavage between my breasts, on my green chakra.
Chakra Four: Air, Social identity, self-acceptance
This chakra is called the heart chakra and is the middle chakra in a system of seven. It is related to love and is the integrator of opposites in the psyche: mind and body, male and female, persona and shadow, ego and unity. A healthy fourth chakra allows us to love deeply, feel compassion, have a deep sense of peace and centered-ness.
self acceptance // integration // compassion
Here are a few major themes that are pressing their weight on me.
gratefulness: I think I originally started crying because I was grateful for such worshipful sex, with no expectations except that of respect. I moved on to other things, but that has persisted over the past day. I am so very grateful to have been loved “for a minute.”
healing: and I think this is mutual. That there was some kind of healing that we both offered and experienced. I have not reached that root truth yet, but I know that it will reveal itself one day soon. Some day I will attempt to do something and realize that it doesn’t hurt anymore, and I will be surprised – and remember that she helped me heal. Crave really helped me heal a lot of my cunt-shame issues. You know, touch, taste, smell, appearance, that we’re all so fucking insecure about. on that note…
wanted: She really made me feel wanted, desired, like I were a satisfying treat, a drink of water in a dry place. I feel like an unexpected delight. I felt that my body “hit the spot.” It’s a new feeling, a big feeling that I have truly never felt before.
compassion: when I saw her start to cry, when I had been crying on her chest, I felt all the weight of a lot of her difficult experiences (I have no earthly idea what all has happened, only that it has all been unfortunately bad) — it fell on me, it fell on my chest bone and compressed me, squeezed out of me more tears, compassionate tears. When you share the burden it becomes lighter. Two people carrying something heavy will have a much easier time than one. I’m thankful that she cried with me, that I didn’t have to feel embarrassed about the sudden burst of emotion.
I can’t keep writing, or I will keep crying as I have done while writing this entire bit. I wanted to be okay when she left, but I went directly to Jennie’s house to cry some more. We drank wine outside in the sun while I cried and talked. wine and cry. Later, as the sun went down and it got chilly again, she held my head to her bosom and we laughed and I cried some more. I went to Kay’s house and cried, I talked to Autumn in Kay’s spare bedroom and we kissed and I cried. I drove home sobbing. I’m still not entirely sure why I’m crying except that I’m still so thankful for just a little lovin.
I’m so grateful for these really fucking hard lessons in laughing through my tears and loving without fear. “for a minute.” A long, emotional, minute. I think our spirits talked more than our voices, eyes, bodies did.
It’s all so unclear to my conscious mind, but exceptionally clear to the spirit – I feel like my unconscious mind knows exactly what’s going on and thinks it’s perfectly fine. I’m getting there. I’m getting there.
I feel cleansed