Confusion...Final Goodbyes

How it has come to this, I have never quite understood. Perhaps, i do. Logically, it is quite possible, in fact, inevitable that it came to this. I am sometimes tempted to be romantic -ok, rarely, but I sometimes am-(and for the sake of threading a perfect novel piece) to say that my heart don’t understand. But the truth is, my heart understands; in fact better than my mind. Months ago, even when laughter and conversation were ample, my heart had already began to beat the shuddery, shadowy beat. It is very much like music; if you were to listen carefully, you’ll hear the faint but definite background pulse going hand in hand with the main composition. That was precisely the case: the main tempo was the joyful, lighthearted beat (oh, how many times a day would I break into a laughter; crack a smile; lean on you and felt safe?) But vague and definite, the shadowy beat of guilt and uncertainty came along side the main tempo. Yes, my heart knew better; discerned better; in fact, much better than my mind would ever.

But it is precisely the sensitivity of the heart that makes it such a contradiction. It understands best for it is most sensitive to the changes in the tides of relationships: foreseeing these changes long before they occur; but yet, because of its sensitivity, it will hurt infinitely. The heart is a muscle, thus, it will ache; it will tire. The mind: a mass of nerves coldly detects, interprets and signals. It cannot tire or hurt.

And how i wished that my heart and my head worked together, flawlessly as a team: that the heart will sense and discern long before any disaster befall and the mind will logically persuade and convince the heart to evacuate from the place of danger. But alas! it is not so at all. The heart and mind, so often, so fantastically mix up their roles and play each other’s part that one is led to walk straigt into disaster, sit there in the middle of it all and not budge. The best part is: we tell ourselves, we have to endure and persevere through the pain. Now, you may wonder how is it possible that the heart and mind mix up their God given, divine roles? But is it not true? The mind does not properl our thoughts forward logically; instead it plays the nostalgic role of the heart and constantly stirs up memories of happier days, bad fights and should-have-been-long-forgotten-but-left-unforgotten pasts alike. And the heart? It illogically persuades and convinces us to make decisions and choose paths. No wonder we stay in the middle of crises to endure when all that we ever needed to do to stop the pain was to walk away.

Now, i have analysed the reason for pain; for sustained periods of gried and the factors that lead one to be “stuck in a moment” (U2) BUt is it of any practical use to me? Not quite. Except that i made a resolution to write this piece titled “Final Goodbyes” (Note: “goodbyes” not goodbye”. Because this is not the first time i said goodbye to this friendship or say it to you aprosophically and neither would it be the last. Until my mind and heart learn to play their own roles dutifully, uncompromisingly, and accurately, i will have to keep saying goodbyes)

“We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun”

How apt that everything is written in the past tense; but why then do we keep singing this song?

Because of the confusion of the heart and mind; that is why. And so we will just have to keep saying goodbyes.

Sunday morning love - I have a question

I have a question.

Should love be 'natural'?

have you ever met someone, and from the moment of your first words exchanged, it just seemed as if some kind of magic love dust had been sprinkled on the two of you exclusively? you immediately clicked, as if there was just an undeniable connection that the two of you shared, along with cohesive views on life and love, cracking up at the same corny jokes, even bonding over your mutual obsession with butterfinger ice cream and the CNN political news ticker.

well, due to certain events of the last month of my life regarding my relationship, and the relationships of my friends, and coworkers, i have been thinking very heavily about this whole 'love is hard work' thing. call me an idealist, but it seems to me that love should have a certain amount of 'natural feel' to it. it shouldn't be all work. now i know that of course keeping a relationship interesting and fresh and love new requires some work on both sides. but should it be ALL work? should it be a JOB just to love your partner with the same intensity as they love you? i have always been a believer in destiny and soul mates and finding your 'perfect match' (and i think there are several 'perfect matches' possible for any one person), so i guess that is why some things have been troubling me as of late. you see, i've experienced a natural love.

the kind of love where things just kind of fall into place. i've been in the 'just be' love. where the initial newness isn't the only time you feel like you're floating in the clouds. it doesn't just wear off with time because you two share the kind of intensity that people look at and say, 'damn.' if you disagree with each other, you can talk about it without someone's blood pressure rising.

now of course 'mama said there'd be days like this', but how many days like this is one too many? how many arguments based on your core differences/beliefs is just too much? how far of a gap can there be between your similarities and personalities and compatibility before you say "you know what, we just aren't meant to be."

i do believe that marriage is hard work. but that's understandable. when you get married, several other factors are involved. you have bills together, accounts, mortgages, children, legal documents. so i can understand why people say that 'marriage is hard work.'

but should the love itself be just as hard? is it okay to settle for a good relationship with a good mate....or should we all be striving for a great relationship with your soul mate? how much work should you invest?

is it possible to 'grow' to love someone as intensely as you would if it just happened 'naturally'? maybe i'm delusional.

maybe i've just been fortunate in my experiences with love. maybe i'm just being foolish. i just have to believe (because i've been there) that 'easy' love does exist. easy like sunday morning...or at least sunday evening :) that's what i want. more importantly, that's what i deserve. the question is, is it possible to build that....or is that something that fate decides? i wrote this poem a while ago, but i can't say it doesn't still apply to some degree.

the missing piece

there is a piece missing...

i should feel tipsy, right?

the love bug should FEEL like something, right?

the automatic flick of the switch in my heart should click, right?

where are the butterflies?

sweet hellos, long goodbyes?

smiles, hugs, cuddles, adoring stares?

-did i miss something?-

shouldn't there be moments?

time stops, heart drops, outside world fades lost in love?

where are the long walks in the sand on the beach

with interlocked fingers and hearts? where is it?

candlelit dinners, poetry sharing, museum exhibits..

naked beauty at 3am with strong arms,

mind, spirit telling me i'm beautiful...

-where did it go? was it ever here?-

soul searching 6am, bible study,

and church at 10 comforting silences,

stolen glances, sexy ear whispers in crowded rooms.

shoulders to cry on in bad times

arms to jump into in celebration

encouraging, believing, achieving.... together

-SOMETHING is definitely missing-

long heart to hearts have been lost in our busy lives

no time for relationship matters

'just because' gifts morphed into 'i'm sorry i forgot, i'll make it up' promises

gone are the cherrystrawberry aphrodisiac picnics at sunset

rollerblading on the strip..

whenever, wherever, i want you NOW passion..

lip biting, sheet grabbing, sweat dripping explosions of nature....

-where is it, dammit?-

intelligent convo, subjects politics,

self-awareness, society strong morals, opinions,

respect for each other....

home training, home cooking, home making..

working hard to provide, but still making time to rub my feet...

beautiful poetry flowing..

speaks only positivity towards me..

-i am seriously missing something-

strong black man...

got my back AND my front i got his too..

handles his business boardroom to bedroom
from hello mr..

to whaddup my nicca!
got his shit together..

vibing to the roots, jay z, aerosmith and coltrane

without missing a beat

real man.

real woman.

best friends.

the missing piece of my life..

-where is it?-

not here.

excitement, passion, longing
have all fled a shell of what we used to be...

a photo album of happier times is all that remains...

very 'significant other' has become under appreciated 'spouse'
need to find my missing link..

yin to my yang..

i know it's out there...

just have to find it....

my missing piece.

Morning detail

5:00 AM. Ceasul suna. 5:10 AM. Suna din nou. 5:20 AM. 5:30 AM. Intr-un final, ne trezim la 5:45 AM. Avionul pleaca peste exact o ora. Incepe agitatia. De fiecare data e la fel. Am oroare de avionul asta de 6:45, manca-i-as sufletu`. Eu - morocanoasa si putin pe o alta planeta, ma ridic si impatur hainele lui inca neuscate, el se spala pe dinti, se imbraca, ma pupa, pleaca. Nu o data a plecat avionul fara el, deci teroarea e familiara.
Eu am patit nu o data sa pierd un tren care a plecat chiar in fata mea. Ultima oara s-a intamplat in iarna, intr-o dimineata geroasa, la Busteni. Senzatia asta ca-ti scapa lucrurile e crunta. A prins avionul, luckily.
Niciodata nu m-am gandit la plecari/despartiri&co. ca si la ceva tragic sau macar dureros. To be honest, nu sunt tocmai o romanticoasa, vad practic lucrurile. Pleaca omul, vine omul, intre timp mai creste dorul, ideal ca sa ramana vie o relatie.
Legat de dimineata, sa va zic ce-mi place mie sa fac. N-am sa detaliez chiar totul, though :p
Imi place sa ma trezesc devreme, sa fac primul dus al zilei -rece, evident- , sa ies pe balcon sa ma usc la vantul rece de afara, apoi verific mail-uri sau ma duc sa imi iau ziarul si il citesc, toate astea inainte de 7:30-8:00. Eventual mananc. Ma imbrac. Poate ma machiez. Plec.
Nimic din astea nu se aplica, sau se aplica partial, sau topica e schimbata, cand nu sunt singura. Ne trezim, intr-un caz fericit deodata, dar, de obicei, eu - ultima. Se mai sta minim o jumatate de ora in pat, se face dus, ori unul dublu, ori doua, separat, se haleste, se verifica mail-uri, se pleaca. Stau si ma intreb ce ar fi daca astea s-ar intampla zilnic. Si da, e o intrebare retorica, dar astept raspuns. Il astept de la mine. Era o vreme cand femeile "independente" - ele insele se autointituleaza astfel - erau tare la moda. Cred ca inca se poarta, aud des fete laudandu-se ca sunt independente, ca nu depind de nimic si nimeni, ca singuratatea e un atu de neegalat, ca faptul ca "nu te fute nimeni la creier e misto, fata". Dar, sa fiu sincera, dependenta asta de diminetile alaturi de the one e reconfortanta. Pentru cei/cele singuri/singure, pentru burlacii inraiti, pentru carieriste, pentru oamenii care au trait mult timp singuri e foarte infricostoare imaginea unui cuplu, dimineata. Si pentru mine este, daca o pun pe repeat 365 de dimineti pe an. Micul dejun, impartitul baii, trasul nasului puternic in baie (la barbat), apoi flegma cu efect direct in chiuveta (cei neciopliti poate chiar uita sa o inlature de pe faianta cu apa...yuck!), pingalitul femeii in oglinda, storsul cosurilor, admiratul sau deplangerea fundului (lasat/prea mare/cu celulita/mic, prea bombat/ prea nu-stiu-cum) in oglinda, toate astea sunt chestii care nu sunt usor de impartasit cu oricine. Poti sa ai o relatie perfecta, dar...vorba aia, fiecare cu jucaria lui. Tu la tine, eu la mine, impreuna - un fiasco. Eu mi-am descoperit chiar un talent ascuns in ceea ce priveste gastronomia, de cand cu trezitul asta in duet. Gastronomia de dimineata, zic. E o ramura speciala, nu va speriati, nu ma haladesc la lucruri prea laborioase, ma limitez la omleta, sandwich-uri, salate, deschis iaurturi, nu ma dezmint atat de simplu de la titulatura de anti-talent gospodaresc.
Daca cuget putin, independenta nu are nimic de-a face cu trezitul alaturi de cineva drag, dimineata, desi poate parea scary, prea incarcat de seriozitate, de constrangeri...Ca un mic detaliu, azi parca n-a fost completa dimineata fara servitul micului dejun in doi. Incep sa am un dinte pentru avionul asta de ora 6 AM.
PS - Si mai ciudat e ca niciodata nu m-am enervat cand trebuia sa astept schimbul de tura la baie, desi baia e regatul pe care urasc sa-l impart cu cineva. Dar desigur, aici nu se vorbeste despre oricine :)

Kiss goodnight

Mi-am facut dusul - al 3-lea pe ziua de azi - si ma bate gandul sa merg la culcare. Imi vin in minte, cu o oarecare nostalgie, vremurile cand imi pupam mama si catelul de noapte buna. Sunt home alone, deci mama nu mi-o mai pup azi. Chestia e ca acest obicei nu stiu exact daca s-a dus asa dintr-o data sau in timp. Cert e ca ultima data cand am facut asta a fost acum muuult timp. Si cainele de doua saptamani nu mai e, dar nu vreau sa vorbesc despre asta, e inca proaspat evenimentul si nu mi-e usor sa dezvolt subiectul.

In schimb mi-am pupat iubitul. Telefonic. Azi era cat pe-aci sa ma enervez, cred ca pe el, sau pe mine, sau pe noi, pt ca planuim sa mergem la munte. Planuim de mult, dar in ultimele zile chiar incercam sa concretizam ceva. Adica eu caut pe mersultrenurilor.ro si pe autogari.ro si alte cele cai de acces spre diversi munti - a fost destul de anevoios sa ne decidem spre care urmeaza sa ne indreptam, dar azi s-a decis: Calimani. Ieri erau muntii Ceahlau. Pe aia ii lasam pt august. Asta in cazul in care nu ma uita Dumnezeu in Vama toata luna august :)) Ei, si ziceam ca eram pe punctul de a ma enerva, cu atatea imprecizii si indecizii. Mi-am dat seama, inainte de a imi exterioriza nervii ca iubitul meu, printre search-urile - neasteptat de bune, de altfel - pe google, are si o meseriede prestat. Meanwhile, eu o ard toata ziua, dimineata prin parc, ma misc un pic, apoi in alt parc, citesc, apoi vin acasa, ma uit la un film sau mai citesc o carte/un ziar/ o treaba, poate chiar dorm(!!!ziua!!!), ma joc cu Domingo, seara poate ies la o bere. Si iata, cum se duce ziua. Dar sa lasam asta.
Revin la pupic. Nu-mi place sa recunosc, dar I miss the goodnight kiss. Cand am sa fiu mare, am sa imi invat copilul sa imi dea pupic de noapte buna. Oricat de sirop ar suna, e un gest atat de frumos. Lasand la o parte gandirea in perspectiva, sarutul de noapte buna, I mean, the real thing, cel dintre un el si o ea, e cel mai linistitor sarut. Dintotdeauna am considerat sarutul un gest suprem de iubire, calitatea lui fiind direct proportionala cu cantitatea de iubire existenta intre cei doi actanti. Te poti potrivi la multe lucruri cu un om, si la sarut - nu. Asta poate fi o problema. Noroc ca nu e cazul meu. Si mai cred un lucru, legat de sarutul de noapte buna: cu cat se produce mai aproape de momentul plonjarii in somn, cu atat e mai bine.
Mie nu-mi place sa vorbesc despre noi. Dar ca sa fie coerenta povestea, trebuie sa precizez faptul ca e o relatie, impropriu spus, "la distanta". Asa se zice cand oamenii nu se vad zilnic si ii desparte o x distanta fizica. Distance doesn`t mean a thing. Poate doar azi. Ca tare-as vrea a goodnight kiss. Daca pana acum am incercat destul de mult sa neutralizez blog-ul asta, sa nu fiu prea "femeie", nici prea "barbat(a)", azi m-am dat de gol.

PS - Don`t be afraid of the kiss goodnight. It can say more than a thousand words.

Fluturi ce?

Fluturi in stomac.
N-am avut asa ceva niciodata, nu inteleg prea bine ce e cu expresia asta. Lumea sustine ca e "un sentiment ai naibii de frumos", ce iti "gadila tot corpul", iti face sangele sa-ti tropaie mai alert prin vene, sa te simti in 7th Heaven. Head over heels. Nici expresia asta nu o pricep. Oricum, a-propos de expresia "a avea fluturi in stomac", nu se poate vorbi de un sentiment. A avea fluturi in stomac, chiar si la figurativ vorbind, e perceptia unei senzatii, nicidecum a unui sentiment. Sentimentele iti gadila cu totul altceva, in nici un caz peretii stomacali. Whureva`...
Aseara a fost majoratul lui Radu. Desi intotdeauna la alcool reactionez precum mimoza atinsa de niste degete prihanite, nu m-am potolit pana nu am tras o vodka peste cap. Se prea poate sa imi placa vodka din cauza unor radacini rusesti pe care nu demult le-am descoperit in arborele meu genealogic. Sau poate ca sunt mult prea fascinata de cultura rusa. Sau poate e doar snobismul. Moscova e cel mai scump oras european din punct de vedere al investitiilor imobiliare, conform Forbes 2007. Oricum nimic nu e mai relevant decat ca eu, la simtul a 50 ml de Absolut...absolut ma imbat. O fi doar autosugestie, o fi realitate. Oricum, l`imagination ce n`est pas le mensonge. Cert e ca m-am simtit foarte bine. Dimneata: trezit devreme, facut ceva raport la un proiect, dat telefoane, rezolvat treburi de oameni seriosi, apoi ore de mate. Apoi mi s-a facut dor de el. Nu l-am sunat. Mi-e greu sa relev chiar fiecare parte din mine in fata unui, say, alien. Sunt prea multe lucruri ce ne leaga. De-asta tacerea asta crunta. Vama Veche, first of all. 4 years ago. O abordare care cerea palme. De-alea gen "papushe, vii la un suc?", dar cu mult mai mult stil si subtilitate galanta. Apoi o lunga perioada de tatonare, soldata cu o palma ferma peste fata fix in ajun de Craciun, un an mai tarziu. Nimic concret so far. In rest telepatie si comunicare, cum altfel, prin mail-uri si telefoane, ocazional. O pura prietenie. Produsul ei? Dupa un interval de cativa ani in care am trait cateva vieti paralele, iata-ne din nou in locul de origine(Vama Veche) de data asta mai maturi si mai ... impreuna. Am dat cu piciorul intr-un principiu la care cred ca tineam mult la un moment dat. Dar , intre timp, am dat de ... Apropiere. Dumnezeu la puterea dumnezeu. Nebunii cu palarie danseaza. Cred ca daca nu NE iubim, cel putin iubim.
Desigur ca am numarat pana la 10. Dupa atatea integrale trebuia sa-mi revin cumva. Un fulg de nea m-a plesnit peste fata calda. Temperatura corpului meu a scazut sub zero grade. Instant. Nu-mi mai trebuia nimic decat mana lui calda si un ceai fierbinte. Pana sa numar la zece, am uitat de integrale. M-a sunat. Vieti ciudate ce avem noi nu mai are nimeni. Vine saptamana viitoare. Irelevant. He`s here with me every time I need him. The question is: how often do I really really need him? Nu ma mai inteleg...