Cafe Hitch-hike

2021-07-12

Cuts like a knife

A few days before.

I've been cut with its knife again, and it's like surgery. I was called, and I knew it would be painful like it had been in the past. I tried to run and deny, but something in me could not forget it no matter how hard I tried. Then, someone came into my life that made it all happen, and I could not resist.

Once it started, I tried to rationalize my way out of it and wanted to change or end things. I ended it, yet something else pulled me back, willing to be there again. Something deeper in me could not resist until I answered the call and faced what was inevitable. I chose to follow what called me, the stirrings of my heart, and a runaway Brooklynite who found his way onto my path.

It made multiple incisions again and again. I'd like to think it cut away what no longer served me, parts I outgrew, or so something else could grow in its place. This has happened before; while I recovered from those pains, I felt not fully dead but not fully alive and I thought I'd spend years in that state. Later down the road, I'd then find myself in a completely new space or experience, one I never thought I'd see. When I realized that, I'd come to the conclusion that getting there was possible because of what I went through; if I didn't go through it, I wouldn't had gotten to see an amazing place, people, event, or even-- life.

There was no change in the instant reaction I felt whenever we touched or kissed despite the 7 weeks apart; if anything, it was more robust. It was joyful, fun, but it was still surgery. The bliss of our connection numbed me to the cuts. I was pared while we gazed into each other's eyes and while our bodies instinctively moved so very responsively together. It peeled layers of me in our deep conversations, light ones, and tough ones. We told each other we loved each other after he revealed his deception and again when we departed. At least I had some sort of painkiller while it did its work on me, just as it had in the previous experiences like this.

Now I lay in rest with the sutures and bruises. I'm bandaged and in pain, and pray this recovery doesn't take long. I hope I come out of this stronger or better. I hope that the healing doesn't take too long. I hope I can recover soon enough to where it's not premature to... actually open myself again and be willing to take chances.

I pray I learn whatever I need to from this merde. Let me learn what I was meant to learn from this experience. Take me to where I need to go next.

I showed up, dammit. I answered the call. It's never as easy as what we feel for each other. Love is simple, but the realities of life are not. I finally got to see what really was what. I got to see the passion, deception, despair, and actual love that Huck feels for me, and I got the truth with a vengeance.

The obligations in Huck's life are like a car crash and worse than I thought. I'll spare the details. Some were low-grade and a matter of being his deal, but the serious ones had to do with responsibilities he chose to take for those around him, and a case of bad boundaries. I already know it will take a long time for him to get half a grip on them and if I were his girlfriend or more, they would definitely roll straight onto me.

I cried after he returned to New York. Everything he said explained filled in more with what I knew about our time together. He wanted to tell me face to face what was really going on. He apologized because he felt he was deceitful (yes, he was) though I acknowledged that I did consent (and yes, I knew we had strikes against us and eventually that something was not right).

We met, but we didn't expect to feel for each other what we did, and I could relate. I've had times where I was up to no good in my life or just screwing around, and then meet a person of substance or who I really liked only to pull back: 'oh shit, I'm a mess and I don't want to drag this person in it!' I'd usually abandon ship in these scenarios and not give a full reason. Instead, Huck chose to stick around and hide things. How much do people really need to disclose when they're just dating, right? But then our feelings took a different turn and then the realities of things kicked in.

Huck was so truthful that he even admitted that he's been evasive all of his life. I wasn't surprised at all with what he said, though his admission by itself was a surprise.

I am so grateful I slammed the brakes on it when I did. I will thank my intuition for 200 years. We may not had gotten to this point if I didn't end it when I did.

Oh, yeah, Huck is just as slutty as me although his experiences started later in life. He goes about looking for new people much more vigorously than I ever did. We had great chemistry because we both were hot-blooded, cerebral, and with intense emotions that we try to hide from the world. When we got together, things just crackled and popped because the combination flowed easily between us and we were comfortable with it. It was a beautiful connection for sure, but we both had plenty of those before and apart from each other.

So what did it cut away from me? How did falling in love change me this time? What will I learn or find in the time I heal from all of this?

What will grow in its place? Where will this take me? How long will it take me to recover?

My God, I feel like I've had enough surgeries like these for 3 lifetimes.

I was already feeling wary of love, and then I met Huck. I almost feel like everything I said in that entry came true. I shake my head and cry because God knows I've prayed and wished for absolute different for so long, but then all of this came so much easily!

I just ask myself to heal from this and not let it close me up so badly. I don't want to barricade myself again or hide in fear. I just want to heal from this, learn what I must, own up to what I must, and... just live.

And maybe this is what happens when the illusions are shattered and all we can do is look at what's what.

Meanwhile, I got another one of my trolling e-mails from Prof. Felipe, the ones that come about every 9 months or so. Here was my reply this time. Although I don't think it will do shit, maybe some mostly objective facts will lengthen the time between e-mails; if I'm lucky, maybe it can be a lifetime.

It’s gotten to a point where I can just about predict when I’ll get these messages and I don’t see why you keep trying.
Our communication was poor. The connection was haphazard at best, and we are in different times of our lives. I guess I’ll mention the sex we had typically felt empty. To top it off, our repeats together turn out quite badly but that never seemed to bother you in the least bit.
Please tell whatever it is that compels you to write me to stop. Please go away and pursue whatever you seek away from me. Please forget about me and redirect whatever wishes or thoughts are in your head elsewhere.

downwind | upstream