Another day, another dollhair that makes no centse. Nor do I make no sense. Or, do I? One can only hope in the now of a Sumday.
Last few days I could sum most of my thinking to one text conversation with my 60’ish year old friend Bill. God, how hurtful he was. While I have some appreciation for his firey word smithing, it was the kind of bullshit that my mother would call Satanic. Mom’s being wrong or right, he hurt my feelings and – damn it! – I am a journaling crier and a storyteller, so here goes…
The short version is that much of it had to do with intimacy, affection and sex. Though Bill is married and has access to meeting all his needs through his wife and his monetary wealth, he wanted more. He wanted me.
I said no.
It didn’t go well.
I’m sure it was my fault.
He was right that I am wrong.
That’s the story he will tell himself.
Regardless the perfection here or there, what I learned is that I am an emotionally intimate human with affection for close friends, but sex is where I draw the line. I am reserved.
There’s a long story here, but God, you already know the holy story about me. This is just another One where I was a prodigal daughter who is lost in your world of founds.
I was the One for someone one time. That was years ago though, I’m not sure if that One exists anymore. Not tonight, anyway. Instead, it’s time to hug a pillow and dream while holding a tiny space in my heart for that mustard seed of faith that still remains. Waiting, ever present, to move mountains.