Of First Loves and High Heel Shoes

“First loves are high-heeled shoes,” he says. “They affect flesh and spirit—straighten spines, tighten thighs, make you walk like you own the galaxy. Your first changes you forever. No other will ever make you feel like I did.”

I watch him,

remember myself

wrapped in him.

“Once,” I tell him, “the sight of you pulled little moans out of my middle. The memory of us (skin-to-skin), your scent… made me want. But I don’t lust after the way I used to feel inside your body. First shoes are just shoes—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.”

.
the wee notes…
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to enjoy interesting tales. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have written about my old shoes.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where our sweetest Sanaa invites us to write about love, using a common everyday image.

 

If Walking Away from Life-Sucking People Is Selfish, Call Me Ms. Ego on Fast Legs

The world is full of well-meaning people willing to murder our Selves to save our souls. And because Fate’s sense of humor comes in all shades of nasty, the saviors rarely know what we want or need.

So, what’s a girl or boy to do?

If you ask me—and several of you have asked, hence this post—anyone who believes that their heartsease is more important than your happiness (and your sanity), deserves no space in your story. No one should have to stay in a relationship that sucks the life out of them.

But walking away is so freaking hard!

Yes, it is… especially when we’ve invested years on a relationship, or when the ones we must leave behind are blood relatives. Add cultural, social, religious expectations… to the mix, and detaching ourselves from certain people and groups is more difficult than leaving the Mafia with all our limbs.

Still, leaving is possible. It is often a necessity. And many of us have done it successfully.

There are some things to keep in mind: you aren’t an emotionally-barren beast (leaving will hurt for a bit); many people in your life, particularly the life-suckers in question, will do their best to shroud you in guilt (when they do this, remind yourself why you left in the first place); hold on to those who want to be part of your life without wanting to change who you are (they are your real family); and, unless miracle strikes, and those who kept you drained change so completely that they are now willing to understand that your life is yours to live, don’t look back (nothing good will come of it).

All this might seem harsh this time of year, when so many are focusing on family interaction and such. But this is often the most difficult season for individuals who attend gatherings not because they want to, but because they are made to feel that they must be there… or else they are scum.

People who love you won’t throw you into situations that leave you needing months of therapy, at least not on purpose. And if they insist on pushing you, after you’ve told them that their persistence is killing you, then your wellbeing is probably not at the top of their list.

I must stress that relationships between people are too complex to fit in a box (or a post). But some things are simple, to me: anyone who beats you, emotionally or physically, does not love you. And if they tell you that they do, then the bullshit that fills their hearts has probably spread to their brains.

Well, my Luvs, I must get ready for another date with the gut doctor. Do share your thoughts on this issue. Your honest insight is appreciated. Read you soon. Write you always. Be good. Be you. Be. ❤️

toxic-peopleToxic people are damaged energy.
Prevent them.

Around My Finger-Bone

Last Saturday, my Piano Man and I went on another first date. Every year, we recreate our first face to face encounter. Our actual first date was in June, but I was too sick last June and we had to put it on hold for a bit. We are so glad we did… The weather was perfect, the pizza was NY-yummy, the ice cream was delicious, and my flesh and bones felt well enough to delight in our long walk through Silver Lake.

“The Beats under My Ribs”

The morning stretches awake to the song of gut and bone echoing of recent pain. My brain wonders if the rest of my flesh is ready for buses and trains riding my spine. I see him smile for me, feel his lips feed me a kiss, and the beats under my ribs say I can do anything.

in sunlight, two hearts
sail the summer-kissed waters
of New York, in love

magaly-and-william-sep-2016

After the ferry took us from Manhattan to Staten Island, we ate and walked to the city park… where we shared our first grope (did I type that aloud?) and where my Piano Man proposed a few years after said grope (I guess I did type it aloud). We visited a bunny that has been living in a tree-house (tree-basket?) for at least five years. Last year, she found a foxy mate. They make such a lovely couple, don’t they?

fox-and-bunny

“Around My Finger-Bone”

His eyes eat a book… His fingers knead relief into the small of my back. The chant of cars on rails lulls me home… I watch silver and dark around my finger-bone ringing a promise made of all my love… From the sky, debris falls like a star. And I wish for nothing.

a black stone with spark
handfasted my witchy heart
to he, who is mine

black-diamond

.
a wee note…

– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Tuesday Platform)