Writing and Intimacy

I don’t know why I picked up that magazine, or why I had the time but as I sat there, I was entranced by the photographs that the magazine. I flipped slowly and carefully through each one of the pages, never looking at any page too deeply.  My fingers flipped through the pages as I double took on some of the more enticing ads and articles that they had, but one, in particular, caught my eye.  I was surprised to see it, there laid out before me, I stopped leafing through that book and took it in. What it was for escapes me but there before I was a woman, loosely clad, faced partially obscured by the limitations of the frame, leaning in and grabbing her chest.
The pores of her smooth skin were apparent as the camera’s clarity brought about every detail. Small folds of her breast shown through minute shadows radiating away from the hand that was holding firm.  There was a coy smile that painted itself on her face as it knew something much more than me. She seemed to have all the control and grace, as her hair was pushed off the way as not to obfuscate her body.
The image felt larger than the page and emanated a sense of both lust, and intimacy. A playfulness that jumped out reminded me of time long past and impressed the feeling of a sense of love and closeness.  It might seem strange, this photo might give all those things but its the expression through the body that say there was no worry, no fear, just a bit of fun because I trust you.  There were dark shades of color, as the backdrop of the bedroom came into view.  It makes you wonder what she was thinking about when that picture was taken, or if she was thinking at all.
The illusion of closeness and affection cast its spell on me, throwing back into my mind as I searched through buried memories of times when this feeling was more apparent. First came a sweet remembrance of love and touch but soon turned sour as my heart came to realize its absence. I began to miss intimacy, the bond of confidence and simple singular purpose that combines and intertwines the sense of body and spirit.  Being on that same stage with another human being, feeling the world vanishing as two beings remove themselves from the fold to enter a universe all their own.  I began to miss that feeling of no really caring about what about what was on the other side of that door because whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore. I began to miss the quiet moments where hearts would if only for a moment connect.
Taken on a trip, my skin felt like it wanted to cry out for touch, to cross that physical barrier of the page to reclaim this lost feeling in a remiss heart. I was filled, just as blood coursed through my veins, with a desire in each of my limbs to reach out and grab whatever I could to bring me some sense of relief.  My heart called out “Come closer and listen to me, you have neglected me for too long and I want this”.  My eyes scanned the page to find some sense of truth that seemed to be lost to them and my brain remained silent, instructing my hands to turn the page and forget all of which I saw.

To: The End Of The Year

I wanted to try a new mode of writing because I feel like my ability to express how I feel and my message are severely lacking. One thing I am good at is articulating how I feel in the form of a letter.

Dear 2016,

Hey, I thought I would squeeze this in right at the end of the year. We’ve known each other for a while now, and I wanted to get the chance to bridge out beyond our professional relationship before it’s too late (I am not known for my timing but bear with me).

We started off a bit sour, I had just been broken up with by 2015 and wasn’t in the place to accept new years into my life, especially after such an emotional roller coaster that the previous one was.

You took me under your wing and showed me how to pick myself up after it all. I would be more thankful, but you did kinda slap me senseless along the way. You took me back to my roots to show me all that I had and pointed out all the things I had to work on. Kept me grounded in reality, almost too much.

We had to get through loss and failure together, but somehow you just kept marching forward triumphantly.  I never understood your spirit, through all the chaos you kept moving.  I followed behind you, running to keep up, never wanting to fall behind again. 2016 you might have not been the best for me, but you did help me a great deal.

I got stronger during our time together, learned discipline and how to work hard for the things I want.  Made me understand the difference between doing and trying to do. You did make me feel uncomfortable with all the change you brought about, but you said change was inevitable and you have to learn to live with it.

I know I wasn’t the best at times, and I still have a long way to go, but through all of our time together you really wanted me to become a better person. Truth be told, I felt more human with you, more vulnerable because you don’t take my shit and you constantly ask me for more and more. I opened myself up this year to the world and people around me, because you showed me how much more I could lose if I didn’t.

It might have been wrong of me to make plans for you at the beginning, all those ideas that never panned out. You took care of me, though, created times and situations where I could genuinely laugh and smile.  Let me see my friends, made me feel like I wasn’t some broken cog in a machine. I saw that I had some purpose here and that people wanted me around. Gave me perspective, and a chance to expand my view beyond myself.

I know we didn’t agree at times, and at others, we were busy with our own goings on, but I always knew you were watching over me.
I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier and only now that you are leaving that I have the courage to speak, Thank you 2016 for all the love, pain, and discovery we shared together.  Without you, I would still be in that hole looking up at the sky hoping to be saved instead of learning to climb out of it myself.

2016, at the end of it all with you going away we both know you weren’t the greatest thing to happen to me. You’ll go on your way knowing you made a difference, it’s up to me now to greet the new year and start working towards my future. So have a nice trip, I know we may never see each other again, but the memories we shared are irreplaceable. 2016, I love you.

Most Sincerely,
Me

The Art Of Trying Something New

Tilt. It’s the word I’ve been reflecting on for the last week. Tilt in swordplay is the action of thrusting forward, leaning in and opening yourself up to attack.  The only way to attack is to open yourself up the possibility of the counter.  Back and forth, fencers will clash, parry, and dodge waiting for the moment to lunge forward for the attack, to strike without a moment’s hesitation. To tilt, even though you are facing the blade.

I’m a slow starter; I like to mull things over. Generally, the result is the lack of spontaneity in my actions, but I can’t help myself, I like being right.  I’ll think about the cost and benefit, or if there was anything else I a forgetting, or simply an opportunity I am awaiting .

What it is, is ridiculousness. I am afraid of attacking life, leaving myself open for the counter.  I’ve grown good at defense; I think a lot of us have, I can take the pain but once hurt you worry about being hurt again. To attack, you must open yourself up; it feels uncomfortable and bare. I need to work on that, make it, so I become used to the lunge, to the blade, to being open for the counter.

Life is not always a battle;  it can be a lesson or a break. Taking the time to learn when to counter, or parry, and forging the relationships of the people who will help you in your fight.  There is style and grace that each person brings to their battles, we have to learn our own and without trying something different and new, we could never know our full potential.

I must learn to tilt, to lean in and strike when the opportunity arises.  Once I get better at the fight, I can learn to create my opportunities, to learn with every battle comes a lesson.  I need open myself so I learn to thrust tried and true, to take advantage of any opening I can perceive. I want to learn, how to strike without hesitation and face the blade without fear. All in the sake of trying something new.