Wednesday, July 12, 2006

cold, wet, and barely legal


I.

Last night, we explored our new playground - our city, under a mantle of harvest moon, all twinkly and full of treats.

We somehow ended up facing the formidable Dorothy Chandler Pavilion fountain, and I said we ought to come back some night in our bathing suits - to which Bear responded, "Um, are you wearing anything particularly valuable right now?"

Before I know it, I'm squealing bloody murder as we're racing through the spray with all our clothes on, getting soaked to the bone under the disinterested gaze of a bicycle cop.

Every moment is important.

II.

I'm making a conscious effort to own my actions - to own my motivations and speak to them, because when I externalize those impulses and point elsewhere, I always end up feeling unfulfilled.

There's somebody inside of me that I'm trying to get to know better, 'cause she's great. She's above the posturing; she's above the flashing teeth. She understands that her needs are simpler than the world insists. She's enveloped by a sense of trust - not out of blindness, either, but out of confidence and fierce love. She takes care of herself in a way that eliminates resentment. She knows that toughness and strength are not the same thing.

She's sorta hard to pin down, but I've left word and am hoping to hear back soon.

I never get what I want when I don't swallow my bullshit and just spit out what's really going on, no matter how I'm judging myself for the feeling.

And I want you to know how deeply grateful I am that you stand willing to accept my truth, though I blush and stammer, just as you take my hand and put it firmly in yours when I'm reeling off the leash.

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