Runaways

Have you ever met someone that disappeared before you touched them? They might’ve taken you right to edge but turned back just seconds before you jumped. You might just have encountered a runner… someone who knows the road to heaven but comes back without having knocked on the door. Of course there is a valid reason for her behaviour! Maybe she didn’t want to disturb the inhabitants, arguing that she’d arrived at an improper hour or even that she was sure that there was nobody home because all the curtains had been shut. Whatever the excuse, it will definitely be acceptable and understandable to the person she’s justifying herself too.

Never getting sick of meeting new people, I was surprised to find this runaway in a group of friends of a less restricted and non-conservative nature. You wouldn’t recognise her at first because of the confident way she carries herself. Almost unawares of the interest placed on her, she talked and danced freely. The fact that she would dance with almost anyone who got close to her made it almost impossible to identify her runaway nature, but if you observed closely there were hints that gave her away. Like the fact that she wouldn’t look into the eyes of the men she danced with or that she put distance between them each time they began coming too close. Although it only fired up surrounding efforts, she would be leaving the dance floor the same way she got on… unaccompanied.

A runaway isn’t a professional tease. She’s a woman that runs from her heart’s desires and through a pool of tears she told me her story:

Last night all I really cared for was dancing. Having a great time with my friends was my only objective and as usual, although I kept an eye out for good-looking guys, I wasn’t interested in meeting any of them. For a while now, my friends had been hinting that a good friend of mine was interested in a little more than just a friendly relationship with me. I was surprised that he’d even noticed me that way and left with the confusing question of whether or not I wanted the same thing. He wasn’t particularly good looking but he had deep blue, caring eyes and an amazing smile. He had many similar interests to mine and I knew that a relationship with him would be something lasting. A woman just knows when a man is worth it. There might be guys that you have doubts with, but with some, you just know that they’ll treat you the way you deserve. My stomach knotted with butterflies and with the help of surrounding encouragement, I attempted to get to know him just a little better. As the evening wore on, I discovered that he had interesting conversation and an amazing sense of humour. I couldn’t believe that he was such great company and found myself wanting to discover the taste of his lips. Being responsible for taking a drunken friend home, I accompanied him to his apartment where his friend would sleep off his condition on his couch. It was only in the privacy and silence of his apartment that suddenly my senses began ringing with warning bells. At first I told myself to relax and go with the flow but eventually I began convincing myself that I was tired and really needed to take a cab home. Responding to his silent plea, I sat next to him and put my head on his shoulder listening to his racing heartbeat. The tension almost snapped with what seemed like an eternity of silence under his arm and just as I was about to announce my departure he suggested that I stay the night. Afraid that I’d choke, I nodded, telling myself that it was insane to walk home at six in the morning. I got into the strange bed and swallowed hard when I got no response to the question of where he would be sleeping. It wasn’t that I was afraid of sex or that I wasn’t capable but I wasn’t too sure that I wanted to go all the way, nor was I certain about the consequences. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that I really wanted to find out what his kiss was like. With immense patience he moved closer and stopped just close enough so that I could feel him breathing. I began talking to ease the tension. Robbed of all intelligent conversation, I told him about my plant called Julie and suggested that she was worried about me and that I should go home. He laughed and humoured my tension by continuing the talk. The care in his eyes and delicacy in his touch did nothing to relieve my tension and I was afraid that I’d start crying when he ran his fingers through my hair. It was on the moment that he put his hand on my waist that I bolted. Naturally I was careful in leaving with courtesy, not leaving any tension between the two as if my going home was the obvious conclusion to the evening. But the minute I closed the apartment door behind me, I ran out the building faster than you can say “go”. Relief mixed with regret was all the adrenalin I needed to get me home and once I got there I sat and cried for no reason. That’s just me… I’m a professional runaway.

Professional therapy? Nah, that’s not exactly what our friend needs. We all runaway from something. Some people run from themselves, others from their past, many from change; our friend just happens to run from her deepest desires. The desire to be touched and loved is so deep that she simply will not trust it with just anyone. And so before getting hurt… she runs. On the following day, she encountered him again as if nothing had happened. They smiled and joked and didn’t touch on the subject of the night before. On this particular day another friend of hers took advantage of his massages and the careful way he stroked her hair while they watched a movie. I could see the inner fight inside our runaway. She watched knowing perfectly well, that the seat next to him was hers to take if she wanted it. The want and unwanted flashed in her head and pure torture is what she put herself through, unnoticed by everyone else. She wanted so badly to be held and caressed but would without a doubt bolt for the door if he attempted to do just that.

How to overcome the fear? Therapy couldn’t possibly do the mind work that she requires to do on her own to overcome her problem. Otherwise, it’s going to have to take one very determined man with a strong personality to grab her before she has a chance to run. Either way, it seems like only love can fuel either option if not both. No other reason seems strong enough to encourage the change. I suppose love is the only darn good reason to turn in your running shoes.

Great Sex

A professional pimp told me that you could tell just by observing someone whether they’re a good lay or not. I have to admit, that I was quite impressed with his insight into character. If you ignore his moral standards, you find that with a little self-discipline, he could probably become a professional psychologist, one of the best. So what where the three requisites for being good in bed?
A large penis for a male or a sexy body for a woman
Being gay, an artist or great on the dance floor
Having sex with someone you’re completely in love with

Circumstantial evidence? Perhaps… but consider the following:
In the first case if you consider that sex is always good for a man no matter what it is that he’s screwing, you could say he’d be pretty satisfied if the woman he did it with was the envy of every other man and woman. Even if she felt like an ironing board in bed, the fact that all the curves were in the right places and she was good looking would guarantee most male satisfactions. One could argue that size doesn’t count… but tell that to a woman that feels completely filled by her partner. No matter the rhythm that he goes at, any movement he makes will be pleasurable inside.
The second count can be strongly debated, however you have to admit that a gay person should know his/her body better than anyone and satisfying the same sex would be like satisfying him or herself which he/she should know how to do very well, considering that we all know where we like to be touched best. An artist can only be successful because he/she pays very careful attention to fine detail. A man or woman with enough patience to analyse and carefully explore their partner’s body is definitely bound to find the most secretive and highly sensitive buttons to press. Press enough buttons and you’re bound to get explosive results even before copulation. Rhythm is the key to being a great dancer, if you know how to feel the music and get your body in sync with the beat; not only will you look good and attract attention but you will also know how to get in sync with your partners body. Body movement is not only erotic but also a major key in driving a partner to orgasm. Intercourse requires just as much rhythm and movement as dancing. Lastly we’re left with the third point that is most argued, especially by men. One man even insisted that sex with strangers was much better than with his girlfriend. I suppose that could be true if it means that with a stranger you release all taboos and get a high from the danger of being caught. But if there’s lack of excitement in your relationship then I pity the lack of imagination and question the fear of evaluation!
So why does love guarantee great sex? Maybe because love entails putting your partners needs above your own. In a world where your main objective is to satisfy the person you’re with and take them to extreme heights, you end up delaying your own pleasure to reach this goal. If the other person has the same goal, it should lead to one very long night of amazing sex. And even if they objective isn’t the same… you have to admit that the more you delay your pleasure, the bigger the explosion is when you can contain it no longer. Making love doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be slow, in opposition to sex it just guarantees a more pleasurable and satisfying experience in where more than just an orgasm is built between two people.

Touch.

It’s what connects two people, two bodies and turns it into one. For a man with low morals I was surprised to hear that he agreed completely with my theory of the key to great sex. The secret key that sums the three points and guarantees great sex is touch. You need to touch the person’s soul before you touch their bodies.

Shhhh… it’s a secret!

Be careful what you wish for...

When you’re growing up, adults annoy you with clichés of time and it’s unpredictability. They feed you nonsense like “Time is a teacher” “All in it’s given time” or even “With time comes all the answers”. These clichés are a great way of adults getting their way without having to give too many explanations and you find yourself without the ability to argue back. However, as you grow older, not only to you begin to comprehend the meaning of these clichés, but also begin to understand if not also feel their true meaning…

On the last day of school, she collected signatures from all her schoolmates. Many faces that had barely said a few words to her during the five years they’d studied together, were now expressing their deepest hopes along with their goodbyes. She wanted to leave his signature for last; she was hoping that the going away spirit would affect him into writing something meaningful in her book. Almost her whole grade had signed her book and soon she was going to ask her teachers to leave a few words of advice that would send her on her journey to adulthood. Entering homeroom for the last time, she spied out a girl that hadn’t signed her book yet. Louisa wasn’t exactly one of the friendliest girls, keeping to her gang and never having anything nice to say about anybody. It was in her nature to probably write a critical or negative message but just as our girl reconsidered asking Louisa for a message, Louisa herself grabbed the notebook out her hand rudely remarking that she hadn’t signed it yet. The message Louisa wrote, was neither critical nor negative… it was strong and deep filled with foresight:

“Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true… Louisa.”

Our girl sighed. Even though the words brought chills of warning to her spine, she somehow could not see how ever her wishes and prayers could come true. Today was the last day of school and she’d probably never see him again besides in her dreams. Across the lawn, he stood with his friends organising the final party arrangements. The party she wouldn’t be attending because she wasn’t part of the elite crowd of the school. He caught her eye and they smiled at each other, she knew exactly what he was thinking. He’d had enough of school, he wanted to spread his wings and this was his chance to finally bury his books and face the real world. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all her courage and took her book for him to sign, knowing all too well that he hated these clichéd moments.
“No! Please don’t make me sign this… I hate signing these things! I never know what to say! Okay but just tell me what to write…”
“That’s okay… just sign your name then, just so that one day it will serve as proof that you existed.”
It must’ve been the disappointment on her face that made him change his mind and he stared long and hard at the blue pages before finally putting the pen to the page. He swore under his breath and mumbled something about him already being unforgettable and that he wasn’t signing any more of those things.
The message was neither poetic nor inspiring, but at least it was sincere:

“I simply cannot top what other people have said, so whatever you do, enjoy. G”

After that, it seemed that someone pressed the fast forward button on the remote control and things began moving really fast. Our heroine found a job a month or so after graduation and a few short months later, she’d saved up enough money to buy herself a plane ticket to another country. Through all of this, she’d tried her best to keep contact with the most of her friends but like most of us… one by one, they began to disappear.

But not him. Not her high school sweetheart. He didn’t change his phone number or his address and each time she pressed the dial, he picked up the phone. They didn’t speak often, or for very long but with time… they began unravelling the secrets they kept in high school. What once seemed unfathomable to reveal, can seem pretty harmless with time and distance. Things became crystal clear after sharing thoughts and intentions and often they laughed at each other’s past behaviour. Talking to him was like watching an old movie of your life. A reincarnation from another time and era. They shared stories of the past; the present and their hopes for the future and he promised her that one-day he’d come visit her.

Time had turned our wet-behind-the-ears little girl into an independent woman with a demanding career, aspiring goals and the personality to go with it. An e-mail announcing the blast from the past was nothing more than a pleasant surprise. Little children eventually stop believing in the tooth fairy, Father Christmas and the boogieman… teenagers also stop believing in their first love and the only aspect about his visit that made her nervous was that she’d encounter a complete stranger. She’d changed so much; it was only natural that he did too.

Even the tourists stopped to look when two crazy kids hugged each tightly as if they hadn’t seen each other in years… four to be precise. The words flowed naturally and quickly, it seemed like no amount of time would be enough to catch up on everything that happened. Time stood still as if it had never gone by.
Memories… be very careful how you create them, when the time comes, you’ll be reliving them all over again.
The first night stretched into the early hours of the morning with photos and memories being shared. It felt like just yesterday that it had all gone by.
The greatest pride she’d felt is that he finally confessed that all the photos, notes, diaries and memoirs that she’d kept were worth the effort she’d made. Time cannot take the sweetness out of an “I told you so!”.

We regret more the things that we didn’t do or say, than those that we actually did.

While some things change drastically, others will always stay the same. Often when we begin our lives from scratch, we tend to bury the past behind us. Fresh starts involve erasing past memories and if it weren’t for a box of old diaries, there were some that surely would’ve been forgotten by our girl. She sat on sitting room floor and began reading. It wasn’t just any novel, it was her life and as she read, she relived every moment, every smile, every tear, and every emotion. On some pages, she would laugh herself silly. On others, tears ran down her face. It was bittersweet literature; it’s value only known to its author.

I sat with her this morning; he had already left and with him took the colour of her cheeks and the sparkle from her eye. The woman I know suddenly looked like the girl I knew four years ago: Speechless, lost and vulnerable. I ran my hand through her hair while she continued her story.

The two weeks that he spent with her seemed to fly by. In that time, they got to know each other all over again.
“Tell me again, what do you think about me now? A lot has changed huh?”
He still hated questions or talk that involved emotional thinking but this time around she had the courage to put her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulders to keep him from running. Groaning, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of answering and once again they spent until the early hours of the morning talking about the changes in each other. He seemed more independent but still needing a lot of growing up. She was the one that seemed to have suffered the most change of the two of them. He thought that she was now a woman but that something about her was still the same. He didn’t seem to know how to describe exactly what it was that stayed the same, limiting himself to saying that her eyes were still the same, the soul was still the same and once again he criticised her for giving too much of herself.

Perhaps it was the look that she found in his eyes or the wonderful time that they spent together on an island made for couples… but the kiss was inevitable.

“Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true.” She told me that the moment she kissed him she felt like she was back in high school with the sweaty hands and butterflies in her stomach.
“I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry that God somehow had heard all my prayers in high school. It was all I ever wanted, now I didn’t know what to do with it!”
I began considering asking God for an Audi, a penthouse in Miami and a fat bank account in Switzerland… I certainly didn’t mind waiting four years for my prayers to come true!

“I finally had him in my room, in my bed, his eyes belonged only to me, his kiss was mine to take and things were going to go as far as I wanted them to. The countless prayers, the endless wishes and the many nights of pleading with destiny finally produced its fruits. It would be one hell of a story to tell at my high school reunion! But that much awaited kiss is where everything began and ended.”

That’s it?! That’s where it ends? But why?!!! Why not go all the way? Why not fulfil the prophecy that began in high school? When two people have come so far, it can only be a crime that they don’t give into each other! How is it possible that you let that chance go by?

The woman looked at me beyond her girlish looks and replied:

“People come and go in your life. There are those who only stay a little while and there are those that stay for always. I will love him for always because he was the first. The great love, but not the man of my life. The friendship and respect that we feel for each other helped preserve a love that will never end, never change and never evolve into anything more than it already is. And the day I do find the man of my life, I know he will give me his blessing just as I will give him mine when he finds the girl of his dreams.”

Looking at her, I know that with time she’ll be back on her feet and living and loving just as before. The heart of a woman is so big and complex that it’s capacity to love and survive is incalculable. It has reasons that reason itself cannot explain. More and more, I start to wonder about how much of our lives are really under our control and how much is ruled by fate. Looking up at the skies, I pick a star and make a wish… being just a little more careful of what I wish for.

In your arms.

Last night I dreamt that you were in my bed. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t hide and neither did I want to. My heart beat fast as I lied down next to you and I had to take a deep breath to control my hands that threatened to shake. The pillow was yours on the condition that I could lay my head on your shoulder. This simply couldn’t be real! So many nights dreaming, hoping and praying that you would be by my side, and here you were… in the flesh.
A human ironing board is the description you could give me. Too afraid to move, wanting to move closer but not quite sure how. Eventually I found a spot next to your chest that felt comfortable. My head began spinning just from the scent of you, I so badly wanted to lay my hand on your chest but was afraid you’d pull away. Bliss would be to touch you but rejection would mean torture.
Taking another deep breath I placed my hand on over your chest and awaited a reaction. My heartbeat faster when my hand made contact, the deep breath you took only prolonged the massacring anticipation. But you didn’t pull away and it took my every strength not to let out a sigh of relief.
Not feeling very comfortable, you changed position and left me feeling abandoned once moving your shoulder. I didn’t have the courage to try again so I turned around to try and avoid temptation. But your light breathing on my neck only made my skin burn even more for your touch and I was sure that if our bodies didn’t make contact soon, I was going to cry from frustration.
Further and further I tried prying away, but you came closer and closer… the huge thump of me hitting the floor shouldn’t have been a surprise and I was in two minds on whether perhaps it was a good idea for me to go sleep on the couch. The thought slipped out my mind as quickly as it came in... No way was I abandoning my own bed!!! Oh but the panic! It took all my strength to quieten all the opinions exchanged in my head.
Do you know how peaceful your face is when you’re asleep? How perfect your chin is in the moonlight? I shiver even in the heat of the night whilst getting back into bed with you. I didn’t mean to wake you but your eyes pulled me closer and told me to share the pillow with you. Moving in closer, our noses almost touched and our lips were an unbearable distance away. I couldn’t close my eyes; you were all I wanted to look at. How many nights had I stayed up dreaming of this exact moment? How many wishes upon stars, how many prayers? I didn’t want to close my eyes, I didn’t want the moment to end and your warm breath caressed my senses into sleep.
I awoke feeling you change position, you turned and had your back to me. Moving in even closer, I was left with the choice of either gluing our bodies or falling off the bed again… instead I chose to wrap my arm around you. No way would I be sleeping on that couch, and so I called upon my courage and slipped my arm around your waist and let it lie on your chest.
You drew in a deep breath again, and I held mine waiting to see if you would pull away. I prayed that you couldn’t feel my heart racing on your back as I felt you move, not the surprise I felt when you locked my arm with yours. I begged time to still and make this moment last forever. Your gesture meant that you would not let my arm go, and I wanted to thank you for it.
One last position change took me through until morning. Turning my back, I feared the fire in your touch and neared myself even more to the edge to avoid all contact. I felt empty without you but dared not turning back. My secret prayers were answered when I felt you move in close, the way our bodies fit in one another was beyond my concept and the sensitive skin behind my neck praised the warm caresses from your breath.
This time, I wasn’t going to run, and I didn’t think twice about reaching out behind me and making sure your arm wrapped around me. I traced my hand lightly over your arm. It felt majestic, so incredibly big compared to my own. You drew in your breath but didn’t say a word so I took your hand and traced it over my waist, letting it lie on my stomach right near my diaphragm so that you could feel my every breath taken in.
Nothing had ever felt so right, at that moment the world was perfect and as it should be. I long for a million nights lying beside you but I content myself with at least one night of sleeping on the clouds. Once feeling your touch protecting me, sleep came easy and the morning came way too quickly for someone who was lying in heaven. The last few minutes just before I knew the alarm clock would go off, I placed my hand over yours, hoping you’d understand my need for you not to let go.

Waking up is the hardest part of dreaming; the disappointment of the illusion has the power to break your heart. The sight on my empty bed haunts me now that my mind knows what it must be like to lay with you every night. My body longs your closeness, my skin begs your tenderness and my imagination invents other positions to discover about each other in bed. No matter how much I hug myself, I can’t shake this empty feeling and a cruel truth rings in my ears that only your arms can fill that void.
Sometimes, all a woman needs is to fall asleep in her man’s arms.

Call "it" whatever you want... but for now let's just say...

«GOD give me the serenity to accept the things I can't change,

the courage to change the things I can

and the wisdom to know the difference»

«The serenity prayer»

AA & NA

Biding My Time...

The cool air in my bedroom is a contrast to the rising heat outside. The lights are kept off so that no ounce of heat disturbs the cool atmosphere and the only streaks of light are the patterns on my wall made by the shutters of my window and the lights from the street outside. My bed looks and smells like the perfect bed out of a fabric softener commercial and the only missing element is… sleep, and that fact that I’m not getting any.

Everything and Nothing at all.

The thoughts that go through my mind are reruns of ideas that have already been screened. The problems that I could possibly have aren’t really problems if you consider that a problem is only that to which hasn’t been found a solution. I already have answers to my doubts and solutions to my problems, all I have to do is wait for the right time to make my decisions… and so I wait… and I wait… and time goes by slowly.

Life is once again trying to teach me the lesson I hate learning most… patience. A lesson that is learnt more than once, it seems that just when we think we’ve learnt it, we’re shown that we still lack it. Patience is time’s favourite ally and it teaches us to wait for the things we want, only then can we give them true value.

Aries of a fiery, ambitious and determined nature… there is always a project up my sleeve, an idea to try out… something I need to accomplish. Is there any wonder to how such a person can go mad if you take away all of these things to do? All the battles are won, all the problems are under control and all I have to do is to sit back and watch life turn a page on this stage of my life and begin a new chapter. I feel like a voyager travelling by ship who knows that much will have to be done once arriving at my destination but that until then I’m powerless to begin my tasks. So I stand on deck and look to the horizon, struggling to see any sign of land, of my new beginning. My mind reorganises a million times the things I’ll have to do once I reach port but it cannot advance on any of those things while the ship still sails. Instead, I’m supposed to look at the stars and make the most of my surroundings.

The clever man goes out and searches for his happiness, the wise man grows it under his feet.

There are times when all you really need to do is give life a chance to work things out for itself. Why is it so hard to admit that you’re human and that some things in life are beyond your control? Is it really that hard to trust in fate just a little? Going back to my last adventure in paintball, I recall being the one who simply couldn’t just sit back in the bushes and wait to get found… I’d rather get shot than not participate and play the game. I’d rather risk my life than not live it at all. Am I such an impatient person?

My future awaits three airplanes, a change of career and a change of lifestyle. There will be emotional, professional and physical issues that will have to be dealt with and soon I will be faced with another of life’s unpredictable obstacle courses. Thankful is what I should be for the time of peace given until faced with such an ordeal. So why can’t I just close my eyes and relax until my ship comes in?

Because every moment spent where I’m not fighting for something feels like time wasted… because time is something too precious to be lost on mere breathing and because every moment that I spend alone without you seems pointless. You can be surrounded by a million faces and still feel completely alone; you can win a million battles and feel you’ve gained nothing and you can repeat things to yourself a million times and still not get your heart to listen. If I’m not fighting for something, what is my point in living?

I’m spending my time, wasting my thoughts and counting the days going by. Not every girl is as lucky to have her own apartment, her own freedom and being the boss of herself and whatever goes into her fridge. I enjoy the free time that I have to read my books, write my columns and listen to my music. Yet, all of it feels like the magazine you read before going into an appointment and all this is what I do to spend my time while I wait for you to join me in my adventures.

May the one you hold be the one you want, the one you need, the one that makes you happy and wherever you are, whatever you’re doing… make sure you’re enjoying it, only then will time truly pass you by.