You are a tiny bit taller, perhaps you could shave your callouses and I could grow a head of hair? I like that you are kind. You’ll have to be, my intelligence is all I have. I am positive about literature and art, indulge myself in reading. I wrote a story today… I take that back I published a story on my blog that I wrote a long time ago. It is amazing how close we adhere to a type of writing, how we tend to look at things in the same way. I was married. It was raining. The island of Oahu was flooded. It was New Year’s.
I read a piece that said that relationships to last need only a bit of kindness. I think you’ve hit that nail on the head. Tenderness and charm are fun to look at and feel. Being cared for, garnering affection, there’s this passion and wildness, you say.
I believe in the truth. That’s basically how a person feels. As I get older, who attracts me becomes less and less who is attracted back. I am at the stage, where I have to pretend I am not interested because if interest is made known, there might be laughter if I am lucky. Often it is discomfort and at times anger. The word “creepiness” comes up. As a Cancer, you might understand that absolute truth in this. As a Cancer, I understand it and obey it too. I am very romantic. I have to be in love to make love. Otherwise, I would rather be alone. But, like you, I am tired. I read something recently and it said that you just know, there are no second thoughts with love. So often, I say to myself I can settle, there are parts of people I can live with, but usually not the whole, and so I do not feign attention. The last woman I was in love with was in ’99. The rest have been measured against and failed. There are so many details that have to be dealt with that the task seems impossible. Bowles in a cameo in the movie Sheltering Sky said that we only fall in love 4-5 times and then we die. I have fallen in love three times, and all of them were my opposite. Of late there was a woman, who wrote stories antithetical to my own. I tend to write about unrequited love. I reach out only to have my hand slapped. I have written and done art so many times that I am at this phase where I am only saving my money to retire. At times, I get tired reading. Currently it is Caitlin Moran’s How to Be a Woman, which gives me all the answers as to who you might be. Next is Siri Hustvedt’s A Woman Looking at Men Looking at Women. I wrote a book that forgets some of this title. In Moran’s treatise, I see that women have the same drives, our bodies are both victims of chemistry and visual stimulus. I love Moran’s language. Her English phrases are halting and fun. I like the way the English abbreviate, using only “university” or “hospital,” for example. Why waste definite articles?
I too want to wake up next to some fleshy force that gets me giddy and racing. I want to hear lovely-expressed words that make me sweat and writhe. I don’t want to wake up alone. I need devotion and apparently blind love. I want the grit of life again.