in a moment of quiet i try to conjure you your face your eyes how it will feel to be near you but i am quickly surrounded by the ghosts of boyfriends past & i find myself taking inventory… did i love any of them or did i just love the idea of being loved? the few i can remember loving were just whispers in the wind of the storm of my life…. mostly i surrendered to pretty faces who made me feel i must be valuable surely i am valuable if they want me.
more borrowing from gustav klimt for the illustration.
seriously. when i think back to the 30+ men who have worked as chapters of my life…i cannot remember if i actually loved them. was i actually attracted to them? i can count on one hand the number of them that i did feel drawn to–and those were some of the shortest chapters. did i scare them away with my intensity? did it just become safer & easier to let myself be adored than to seek out & ultimately be rejected by the men i adored? the ones i adored were mostly broken men. men with a sadness about them. a beautiful sadness…. those were my muses. and they all slipped away from me, leaving me in a pool of narcissists. sigh. i can’t say that the men i chased would have worked out any better than the ones i let catch me. they were probably right to steer clear of me. i would have just broken them more. (not on purpose–i’m just made that way.)
so i don’t know what to imagine for the one who will love me as i love him. the one who won’t leave; the one i will not leave…other than a punk rock, lumberjack poet. surely a punk rock, lumberjack poet.
i finished my journal that i started on november 2nd of last year…which means i will be updating my “invisible exhibitionist” page.