Saturday, June 20, 2009

You can let go now.

I took a walk not too long ago with a very beautiful woman, and she asked me questions that others have not asked me for a little while (You can tell a lot about someone by the questions they ask, you know, so as women go, she's as impressive as one as I've ever met) Considering the walk was for almost four hours on a brilliantly beautiful day, and it involved everything from the city streets, to the lake, to the forest within the city, we had plenty of time, and a variety of visual stimuli, to talk of a great many things. A point she brought up to me made me think of what's about to happen, not only with my show, but the narrative I put away three years ago (The narrative I put away three years ago, which was resurrected while I was ill) Maddy is part inspiration for returning to it, and the core of it is still rooted in what was, but what was, is in one sense, something I let go of a little while ago. You can still be inspired by a woman, even if you no longer want her (keep in mind that if you asked me to fall into bed with someone who was in my life, I'd probably do it, but that doesn't necessarily mean I was meant, or wanting, to stay) I was also thinking of a girl who called me when she was drunk, about two months ago (one who was still with her boyfriend, the one she left me for) who was wondering if she had missed her opportunity with me, or had messed up our friendship (She could never mess up our friendship, but sitting her now, I believe she had missed her opportunity with me, though you can never tell what the future will bring) The point is, there is no nostalgia for past lovers anymore. It's an odd feeling. I don't want to kiss anyone of my past, and I hardly wish to kiss anyone of the here and now (though you know who you are) One of my workers yesterday expressed that I speak of sex a lot, and there's no doubt that I'm quite a sexual being, but just because one is sexual, doesn't mean one is inclined to sleep with every girl he meets. I'm simply not. I'd rather get to know someone in order to want them, and the reality is that if you disappear out of my life for long stretches of time, I'm going to lose desire for you. It will just fade. Doesn't mean it can't be reignited, or that it isn't necessarily there (You can lose desire, and it can be buried within, but if you know the triggers, you'll spark it again) The girl I took a walk with (who I hope to continue to become great friends with) told me simply 'You should finish the book...' and she's right. You can care about a woman, and find them intensely attractive, and even want them on some level, but you don't necessarily have to fuck them. Truth is also the fact that no one is exactly beating down my door to fuck me at the moment, so there's a perfect symmetry at play. The reality is, whomever I desire at the moment, in specifics, is my personal business. Truth is that I don't want anyone I wanted in the past. Opportunities were missed, and some things will simply not be. But in the here and now, I've got a lot of time, even with work, to not only start performing the show, but finish that piece of work that started everything, with new, fresh inspiration (Yes, Maddy, you are definitely a part of that, so thanks, my beautiful new friend) The work, for now, will have to be my lover, and the truth is, I'd rather finish everything first, and then kiss someone later. I am thinking that my lips should be dry for awhile, and I should remain unsatisfied just a little bit longer, and that it's time to let go of those who tell me that they love me only when they are drunk, or those who turn to me only when their boyfriends are away, or about to leave (or are negligent) or that it is time to let go of those who say 'I can't do this anymore...' or 'but what if he finds out?' Truth is that the fresh air cleaned out my lungs, and I'm breathing quite easily on my own, now. Nostalgia can interfere with the clear thought in present - you keep thinking of the past, and you are doomed to live in it, and on this day, after being sick for seven days, I feel like living, and living, for me, no longer involves waiting, so you can let go now. You are free now of my being your possibility. I believe in you, but I do not want you. Maybe I will later.

But not now.