My apartment looks like an art gallery, paintings neatly stacked and waiting to be sold. Everything here is for sale. I am slowly getting ready to move back to Malibu and all that entails. As I have written previously, my pack rat collection of more stuff is getting me down. It all needs to be sold.
Last night I decided that I couldn’t see Mr. Darling NYC ever again, that it was doing me in. Yet, for all the hopelessness there is still an unavoidable truth-we love each other. What am I meant to do? Just walk away from what may very well be the best thing to ever happen to me?
I am prepared to wake up alone every morning until he can wake up with me. I loathe waking up alone, alone is not good for a man who obviously has so much to offer.
I long to try something I’ve never had..lover man oh where can you be?
We both have so much.
Up until now I craved a companion on my terms. After our conversation today I now crave a lover on our terms. As he was quick to point out-this is not just about Duncan Roy. My beautiful boy has feelings too, feelings that until today I was ill prepared for.
HE DOESN’T WANT TO MOVE TO LA.
So what of Malibu? I would move anywhere if it meant we could be together. I looked online at houses in Upstate New York, London and Paris. After our long and emotional conversation I understood just how selfish I had become. Yet, sometimes you just have to go with your heart.
This morning, after writing yesterday’s sensible blog, I woke up alone and angry. Angry with him, angry that our fragile love affair could be so easily tossed aside, unless of course I fully appreciated his situation. I shouted at him. He burst into tears.
He is lost and terrified of loneliness. And that description could so easily be mine.
His wracked, desperate sobs silenced and shamed me.
After he tearfully described his fears I knew that things were not as simple or solvable as I had kidded myself. The thrill of romance will not solve this problem. Resolve, strength and patience on my part may be all I can offer him.
I prayed for guidance this morning. God can and will set me straight. Even if it can’t keep him..straight.
I love a married man. A married man loves me. Send in the fucking clowns.
I read a really great blog called Love in The Time of Foreclosure. The blog charts the ups and downs of a couple facing the loss of their house and staying in love. Adversity, so it seems, keeps people fighting for what they believe in.
It’s odd how much one can learn about oneself when love is at stake. I have not really been in love since Matt and I broke up 10 years ago. The sort of love that makes one desirously wild with anticipation. Delirious. Desirous.
Listening to him cry made me love him more. After all, when one is craving authenticity to hear another man cry is as about as authentic as it gets.
I usually write my blogs when I get up in the morning. I breach the surface of the new day with a description of the previous day but this evening I am sitting at home with The Little Dog listening to old tunes and eating Swiss chocolate. Somehow, my darling man crying has settled something deep within me.
All of me, why not take all of me, can’t you see I’m no good without you. Take my lips I want to lose them, take my arms; I’ll never use them. Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry. How can I go on my dear without you?