The Prince of Fire

I walk along an open field. There is no path. I create my own. To my right are trees and on my far left, a body of water.  Where shall I go and what will I do? Here, it doesn't matter.

I remove my white silky scarf with my right hand and drag it along the grass as I walk. My thoughts are being carried by the wind. It's grey and blue out here...again. I let the wind do whatever it does. My hair moves like this and like that and it's just fine with me.

I turn around. No one else is here. I'm glad.

I drop the scarf.

I walk further along and remove my shoes. I leave a trail of my things behind me in case he decides to look for me. What will he do? What will he do? I wonder. I doubt he'll come. The disappointment is leaving me now. I prepared for this moment, this moment right here. It's okay if he does not come. I need a man. A man would come. So, I hang onto this wish like a piece of clothing wrapped around my body, to help me remember how that's exactly what I need. There is no room for compromise.

I keep walking...oh, how lovely the grass feels beneath my feet. Even the grass knows how to love. Too bad for man...A man who has not loved has not lived. A man who has not mourned love, does not know what love is. A man who has loved, who has truly loved, will learn to love again.

I'm tender with my purple dress as I set it down. I imagine it will still be there should I decide to turn back and retrieve it. As I walk, I imagine it laying there, listless and spent. I imagine the wind breathing life into it, creating tiny waves in the fabric. I smile. I come here so that the wind will breathe life into me, too.

I feel slightly cool and that's okay. I take a deep breath and then exhale in my usual way. So what if he doesn't come for me? No, he won't. He won't. I'm sure of it. He's never given me any indication that he would. One time, I disappeared for five weeks. He didn't call once. It's just rejection, I tell myself. It's only rejection. This time too shall pass.

He's a free spirit. He comes and he goes. He's like the wind.

And unlike the wind...because he thinks he's free but he really isn't. Only a fool believes he's really free.

It's alright that I'm not wanted. It's alright that he isn't interested in me. It's alright that he's only looking for a good time. It's alright that he'd rather laugh than cry. It's alright that he wants to keep things light and superficial.

But, I'm not superficial. I'm not free. Nor am I like the wind.

I can't even expect anything from him. I want him to do without me having to ask. He's never once bought me a coffee. He's offered but...I'm regressing...I'm being petty...or am I?

He doesn't believe in love. He won't give unless he's been given to. And what shall I give him? This man who can't even keep his word when he says he'll be back and then doesn't return? I end up being the stupid one for waiting. I become the fool. Tell me, what shall I give him? Shall I ask him out? So we can have a good time today and then tomorrow, he ignores me? How can people not see that how we do anything is how we do everything? I won't take that risk. To invest in a person who doesn't care.  And, I'm not like other women. I won't call and make a fuss but inside, it's been imprinted. I don't forget. Three strikes and he's out. Well, maybe more than a few strikes...Ah, he probably wouldn't even mind. As soon as he got a whiff that he couldn't get what he wanted from me, he bailed. Maybe he wanted to see if we were sexually compatible. What guy wouldn't want to discover the truth of that? But, I'm a lady and he works backwards...

More clouds make their way now. I long for rain. It won't fail me and sure enough, I feel some tiny drops on my cheeks and lips and on my palms, as I lift them up.

We're two different people, he and I. I remove my panties now and my bra. The rain is coming down. Down. Down. Down. I belong to the Earth. I belong to the elements. I belong to the Heavens. He couldn't handle someone like me, anyway. And he probably knew that.

Maybe I'm truly the free one after all...

Empty spaces

I say something nasty to him. I defend myself and then walk away, as fast as possible to the other end of the building. I know this building well. I've been in it so many times. I know where all the stairs are, where they lead to. I know every passage way, every exit sign. He doesn't.

But, I expect the impossible. I expect him to come for me. I expect him to find me. I doubt he even got up to follow me.

I notice a statuette of Mary on the floor behind a glass room. That's where I'll go, I think. That's where I'll sit. That's where I'll wait for him. When I finally find a little spot on the floor, I look through the glass wall, but I don't see Mary anymore. To my left is a small shrine. I see Buddha and other symbols that comfort me, for a moment.

Someone inside the room draws the curtains. Now, I can't see anything. Then I realize, there's a class of small children learning a new language. I'm guessing.

I feel out of place. And, he never arrives. I stare at the grey carpet. I notice white walls, everywhere. I don't like this place. It feels cold. I feel cold. I feel lost. I feel disconnected. I feel alone. It's always the same thing, day in and day out. There's no colour here. Where's the colour...the colour of my life? My Soul? Is this all I'm made up of? Even Mary didn't linger here for too long...

Truths & Lies

I grab for some tissue as fast as I can to wipe off the blood trickling down my leg. The blood gets everywhere. I only have a few pieces of tissue - small squares. It reminds me of Cuba, when I headed for the lady's room and a man outside guarding the door gave me two pieces of toilet paper for a small fee...I panic. I wonder where the blood is coming from because now I see droplets over my dress. I move the fabric to the side to avoid the blood touching and staining my dress...my navy blue dress. I think how I'm more worried about the possibility of my dress getting stained than the blood on my body running down my leg...

There's no more paper. And, no one's around to help. I keep wiping but I only spread the blood. I see three women in the distance. I feel like they can see me but they don't move towards me. They just stare.

I think of him now, as I wipe desperately. I'm wiping my shoe, my grey ankle boot. I don't know why I bother. I'm only making things worse.

Now, I see his vehicle. I remember wiping down his vehicle clean...being sure to remove every spot so it shone nicely in the sunlight. His car is definitely clean...but, I'm not. I'm full of spots and he's not around to help me remove them...

What do I do? I just sit there. No wait. I find a quiet space, away from the window. I need some privacy. I need some alone time. I am alone.  I take off my clothes. It's too late to salvage these garments now. I set them aside. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walk past one of the rooms in this large house. I can't find the washroom. Where's the washroom?

Finally. I enter the space like it's a sanctuary...my sanctuary. I turn on the faucet and get inside the tub. I draw the curtains. The water feels good on my skin. I'm taken aback by how red my blood is. Wow. I see the opening. I see where the blood is coming from. I understand. I understand. It's all making sense. I feel a little faint but I'll be okay.

The water cleanses me whole and I smile. I smile. I'm perfectly fine all on my own. I look at my body as though it was the first time. Today, I like my body. I think I had it wrong before. My astral body houses my physical body and not the other way around...

I'm free. I'm free. Free to love again. I've always been free to love. Who's going to take that away from me? No one. Certainly, not me.

'Casual' Relationships

We're together in his home.

He points to a house outside and says, "That's where I live." I'm confused and think - Oh, he has two homes. And, so close together??

I keep looking at the house outside. I notice the upstairs curtains are drawn open and wide. I imagine seeing someone come to the window. I imagine catching the person's silhouette. I imagine seeing a shadow, a glimpse of a person. I keep staring at it and then think to tell a joke by saying, "Oh, who's that woman standing at the window?" But, I don't. I don't dare...because a part of me is worried I already know the truth, that if I see a woman standing at that window, she must be his.

I understand myself in that moment. I understand a fundamental truth about myself. I don't want to ever be the 'other woman'.

He takes my hands and we both kneel down. I know what's coming next. I want but, not like this. It looks like we're in that space between the kitchen and living room. I instantly feel a disconnect, like he's playing a role, the same role he plays with every woman. I don't feel his heart. I see that he doesn't 'see' me. He only connects with my body but he fails to see that I can't connect with him unless he's connected to all of me. 

I immediately think - Oh no, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. I must go. I need to go. My integrity must remain intact. I will not give of myself so freely. He isn't worthy. I must have seen his smile a hundred times but here, it wreaks of meaninglessness. I can't engage. I'm trying to extract something more from his eyes, those hands...but, I can't. There's nothing to extract. I can't take what he isn't offering. I can't take what he's unwilling to give. I can't take what isn't there. I can't absorb. I can't process. I'm just a body. I'm only a body. I'm nothing more than this body...to him - he, who seeks pleasure.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door and he looks at me. I smile back at him. He turns to answer it. I'm surprised. It dawns on me that I'm in my underwear. I try to conceal myself. It's a man and three children. They enter the home. I think - why wouldn't he want to protect me, conceal me or encourage me to go into another room so that I don't feel exposed? I see that he doesn't cherish me. But, he doesn't...he doesn't lift a finger to show me I'm worth something to him, which means I must not mean all that much. He doesn't value me. I try to enter another room through the hallway, discreetly. The man and three children walk past but they don't look at me. They don't even know that I'm there. I am invisible. 

I notice two boxes of tampons and pads on the floor by the wall. I wonder who they belong to. I pretend it doesn't bother me too much...to see these tampons and pads.

The next thing I remember is being at a friend's home. It's a gathering. I notice some of the men from my neighborhood cafe sitting on one of the sofas. I see him sitting on the opposite sofa with a woman. I'm standing by a kitchen table. I look at him. He doesn't look at me. The woman he's with laughs. Her hair is up in a bun. She's beautiful. A couple comes to the kitchen table to greet me. I hadn't noticed they were there before. I continue to look over at him but he never looks my way. He pretends not to know me.

He doesn't have to pretend, though, does he? Truth is, he doesn't know me.

Sex & Love Are Not The Same

It's so interesting to me...how a person can enter your life and want things from you he hasn't earned yet.  It's set up as a transaction right from the beginning. They come with their preconceived notions of how people are...how women are...and think they can turn the tide in their favour knowing full well they'd have to bend or break the rules to get others to comply.

They turn on the charm, the charisma, the sweet talk...but they have nothing to show for any of it. And, I'm supposed to smile and think I've found a goldmine? Because they're honouring me with their presence?! I ought to feel lucky? Flattered? That they're giving me attention? Really? Is that it? Man is a coward! And a thief! He's got psychological issues that run so deep, no one can save him. The moment a woman shows her intelligence, he walks the other way because he can't stand being challenged. I laugh because that's exactly what should happen when a man behaves so egotistically. Who I am helps to weed out what I don't want in my life.

The problem occurs when a woman thinks she can change a man, fix a man...when she thinks she can get him to commit to her. Bad idea! The only person left hurting is the one trying to change what IS. Why chase after a man who doesn't *really* want you? What good is he if he doesn't ask about you, if he isn't concerned with who and what you are? If he doesn't keep his word? If he acts like a fool or an immature child?! What good is he to you? When you chase, and he only ever gives you crumbs, you subconsciously tell yourself you're unworthy.  You tell yourself that if he admires and is into you, then that validates your worth. But, that's not right. Let him go. He's nothing but an energy sucker. If you have to wonder how he feels about you, he's not feeling much of anything. He's not good for you. He only wants to bed you. He only wants a warm body by his side. He only wants, wants, wants...and he'll take if you're giving. So, stop giving...not unless you want to feel depleted.

Yeah, he said I was complicated, difficult, that I was hard work. Damn right I am. If I was too simple, or rather, too easy, he would have had his way with me already. I've told you a few times before. Man is cheap.  He wants but he doesn't want to pay the price. And, if you give away freely, he won't value any of it! If I don't have my honour, how will I be honoured? Once he's had his way with you, he'll throw you away like a piece of trash. Why? Because he set it up right from the get go that you didn't have a right to expect anything from him. If you want a one night stand, go for it...but I don't. Hey, if you want to continue giving each other pleasure from time to time, go for it, too! But, don't think for one second those moments will ever translate into anything more substantial.  I'm not that woman.

I decided long ago that I will not allow myself to be defiled. I don't care what he looks like, what he says, what he owns...none of it makes any difference to me. If he can't look me straight in the eye when I ask him a question, if he runs away like a scared little boy when I ask for clarification, I have no use for him. His good looks are waning, ladies...that's why he gravitates towards women who can take care of themselves...so that he doesn't have to wine and dine them.  And, it's not that you need wining and dining, it's that you're worth so much more than the silly games he plays. They're lonely men who have no interest in you, only what you can offer them.

The question becomes, What do they have to offer you? And, is what they're offering worth the price you'll have to pay for getting to know them? You'll never know this kind of man. He won't let you in. He doesn't want to be tied down. He doesn't want the attachment. He doesn't want you. You're just another face among other faces.  You're just another notch on his belt. A good woman will pay the higher price...to her detriment. An average man will walk away and never look back, once his ego is satiated...And off he goes in search of his next comfort. That's the difference. I don't know about you. But, it looks like a no brainer to me.  What you want and what you deserve, is out there. It is. I promise you. You'll know you've found a gem when you're both on the same page and you don't have to wonder how he feels. You'll just know it. There won't be any doubts. Remember these lyrics - Stevie Nicks sang them well...Lovers only love you when they're playing...

Romeo & The Macho Man

Romeo will come chase you. He'll reveal his intentions right from the beginning because his heart rules. He's in love with love. He's in love with romance. He's in love with you. He recognizes innocence. This appeals to him. He wants to protect. He wants to adore. He wants to cherish. Yes, he may live in the clouds. And, so what? His feet are also firmly planted in the ground. He brings the dream down and manifests it into the world. He'll die for love. You won't even blame him for it because when he loved, he loved well. He loved with passion and compassion. He loved with his being. He was sincere. He was devoted. He was a go getter. No time to waste. He opens his heart knowing full well he may be wounded. He's no wimp. 

Not so with a macho man. You'll have to do the chasing because woman is lesser than. His ego is so huge, he can't see beyond himself. Nothing sexy about that. He may move just right. He may look like a protector, but, he isn't one. He's only out for himself. He can't handle a modern woman. He doesn't understand why his pick up lines don't work. He doesn't understand how some women want nothing he has to offer. The truth is, he's got nothing.  Maybe, he's got money. So what, when you have your own? Maybe, he's got charm...but, that doesn't last. Sooner or later, the cracks start to show. And you see, he's nothing but a lonely man. He desires intimacy but on his terms...never yours.  You'll have to go crawling for some crumbs and after he's given you some morsels, he'll call you a slut...for bending down.  A real woman never chases a man. A real man always keeps his word. Too many macho men around who don't keep their word. They're pigs and a real woman must never throw her pearls before swine. She will lose in 10 minutes what it took her to gain in years...Unlike a man, when a woman falls and loses her dignity, she really has nothing left. Because this IS a man's world...and it's all animal fare through this lens.

It's not enough that you want him. It won't be enough that he finds you attractive. A macho man can't commit. He'll tell you he's been hurt by the past. Who hasn't? They're just little boys looking for their mother. They set the bar so high, they can never meet the ideal woman because she doesn't exist. Or does she? Because you see, he can't have it both ways but he wants it both ways. He wants the virgin and the whore. A macho man will confuse you. He may say all the right things in the beginning to lead you to believe you two have something going on but in reality, there's nothing of substance. You have to see it for what it is. A game. And, he wants all the control. So let him have it...all by himself. Let him rule his empty castle.

You need someone to care and if you have to beg for care and tenderness...ooh la la, you're heading down the wrong path, my friend. His main concern is that you want him. If you want him, if you show that you want him, then he knows he's still attractive to the opposite sex. It gets to his head. He tells himself, "Wow, I still have it." It's not about you, sweetheart. It's only ever about him. He's no family man. He's no knight in shining armor.  He's just a man...nothing more and nothing less...than a man. He loves women but not the way a woman wants or ought to be loved. 

If he cares for you, he'll call. If he wants more than just a fling, he'll call - but, that's only IF you haven't given yourself away to make him believe you're some easy fluff or floozy.  But, still, he wants you to go after him. It makes him feel good about himself. What an ego! There's no love in his world. That may or may not come at a later time. What does that even mean? He wants a warm body to lie next to. He wants to be served like he's some King but he hasn't earned his place. He thinks by virtue of the fact that he's a man, he's entitled to 'good service'.  He wants to be worshipped but only a King can be bestowed with such an honor because he doesn't ask for it!! Nor does he make any demands, and certainly not of a Queen!

By The Light Of The Moon

He looks so good...by the light of the moon.  He smells so good...by the light of the moon.  The waves sound intoxicating...by the light of the moon.

I like how I feel...by the light of the moon.  I like how he makes me feel...by the light of the moon.  He touches me just right...by the light of the moon.  I take my fingers and caress his arm.  I marvel at his tattoo...by the light of the moon.  His eyes sparkle and glitter and my breath longs and deepens...by the light of the moon.

I want him to take my clothes off...by the light of the moon.  He asks me for permission.  I take his hand to my blouse.  He knows what to do.  All is right...by the light of the moon.

He whispers in my ear.  He talks with his hands.

What will the sun reveal in the morning? I fear that what the sun reveals will not reflect the essence of what took place...by the light of the moon.  I can't believe a word he says...by the light of the moon.  It's a risk.  It's a risk...a risk to bring the shades down low only to bring them back up...in the light of day.

What if the truth is shady? What if the truth is an illusion? What if I get swept away by nothing but shadows and romance? What if I was only ever floating in the air? What if I hit the ground hard when I turn the lights on?

Ah...what if when I roll over, he isn't there by my side? What trickery! How unfair. How unjust. Or, is it?

I made the choice to stand with him...by the light of the moon.  I wanted to feel all those things I felt...by the light of the moon.  I desired to touch his arm and marvel at his tattoo...by the light of the moon.  I took pleasure, as he did, under the light of the moon.  So what if he isn't there in the morning? I'm still in tact.

But...what if when I roll over, he IS there by my side? What if, when the sun comes to greet me, I see the truth exactly as it is? And, what if this truth is good and honorable? But, I'll never know, now will I...if I don't take the risk...and stand with him...by the light of the moon...