touchstones of the not-mined

Excruciatingly beautiful moments of possibility, in a long and lonely life.

Two doorways to intense, lasting physical and emotional intimacy.

Two moments from which i walked away.

In my mind, ever to return.

L and E...

Why, among my many dozens of romances/almost-romances, do they burn brightest? In fantasy, their brilliance nearly obscuring the shadows of remorse.

Did i choose wrongly, or just damage myself to save myself? The freedom and non-materialism i've cherished, the life of artistic creation...those might have been compromised by giving myself to either. They were single mothers. Cleaving to them would have meant acquiescing to jealousy and possessiveness...a concession i might have made. Cleaving to them would have meant an enormous alteration in my finances, which might have well-nigh erased "me".

Perhaps that's unfair. Perhaps i ran from even exploring the possibility. I gave E no chance to understand my fears.

But perhaps they were the two truly profound self-sacrifices of my life. To explore is to bond, and how much more cutting might my departures have been after months or more of ecstatic intimacy?

Are they haunted as well? Likely not, thanks to me. But hopefully a tiny bit, once in a long lonely while. Do i dream that someday we may come around again? I do.

There are other wimyn in masturbatory memories, but none so prominent. The deepest reason is my longing to once more feel a womyn give herself as they did, without hesitation or negotiation. To have that opportunity to be the most beautiful thing that ever happened to someone, but this time to dive in...

Even though it might still be calamitous for my path.

I want it so much my chest hurts.

The other quality they shared, is the instantaneousness with which they gave themselves. In my fevered dreams, that's more powerful than after a prolonged period of getting to know each other. That headlong rush...with both, it was literally hours after meeting, that our naked hearts came together. Such impetuousness was probably uncommon for them, even before single parenthood.

With E, it was only later that i understood the fullness of her desire. I had been hired to help move her into her new home. After the others dispersed, we stayed together. Hours of sharing led to sleeping together...the most gentle holding and touching, which blossomed into sexuality. I held back from penetration, believing in taking things slowly.

Years later, she said that night was like holding an angel.

L and i first met after months of e-mails, and poems of love and longing. We spent the most perfect evening and night together, which unfolded into breathtaking sexuality, bodies and hearts as one. The fullness of her desire was purity itself...so seemingly completely IN her body...demanding nothing, offering all...her sex, life, and dreams mine to pour myself into. Again holding back from penetration, i nearly lost control...a moment i'll never stop reliving.

In our letters, she hadn't mentioned her child. The next day, happy but afraid of being in over my head, i clumsily wrote her and asked that we go slowly. I may have even said "start over".

She disappeared.
Were they wrong to believe in me? Duped by hormones, and the holes in their life they (like everyone) were trying to fill? Did their needs blind them to some absence in my spirit? That's unfair, i hope. To use a clumsy metaphor, perhaps intuition is about heart, not head. They weren't wrong, thinking that my heart was fully alive...curious, caring, and eager for the greatest love of my life.
I would have been fortunate, to love either of them for a season or lifetime.

And now...

Just memories, and dreams of being there again...imagining whispering, moments after penetration, "Do you want your son to be an only child?"
To be there, but give myself fully? The beauty chokes me up. Decades of barely-interrupted loneliness chokes me up. This creep toward death chokes me up.

I'm left with beautiful insanity, and an almost predatory desire to have that again.
Predatory. If you could know how i've never used another as a means to an end...and now, when i should be at the pinnacle of my wisdom and serenity, to find myself...predatory. If you think the average person in this culture isn't deeply predatory, you can't understand what i'm talking about.
Remember that worry about "me" being erased? Did our debased culture find an end run to achieving that? Have i gone from the most trustworthy person you'll ever meet (left-handed compliment!) to just another wretch? There is no function in a dysfunctional world.
Laughter, or tears...

But just once more, to be the most beautiful thing a womyn has ever found...and finally, to let her be exactly the same for me.
My heart tears at its cage.