Saw a man at the gym today, Mr. H. met him last June at the block party. nice little neigbhbor party; booths for wine, beer, books, yard sales, music playing. I was hanging with my agent where she was attempting to sell the very nice detritus of her life. she took me over to meet him, said, oh he's perfect for you. he was manning a booth for his own book store, independent, vanishing species. and he was perfect for me. yow. we hooked up (not in the sexual sense in the old school sense) for a couple of hours that day. talking. that kind of thang. and I'm feeling something, like all over my body including my brain and believe me nothing is sexier. well. we exchanged numbers. I went back to my friends, a few minutes later, he tapped me on my shoulder and gave me two chocolate kisses. I was like yow. oh baby. to make a long story short he didn't call. now I've seen him around, we are neighbors. but we cautiously avoid eye contact. I saw him once coming out of his store with his ex-wife and i knew immediately that he wasn't finished being a husband. so whatever. that's how these things go. but now he's at my gym, my religion.
I don't think about what I'm going to wear, and I don't worry about my hair, I don't think about my body except to think I like my body. I am not self conscious. and I don't want to get self conscious. I don't want to have to worry about my chipped manicure. you feel me? in the locker room I looked at the camisole I was wearing and thought you can see my nipples. and to be honest I kind of knew that, but didn't really care. it's not insanely obvious, but i really LOOKED today, and sure enough, the circumferance and the texture of my nipples are about 40% visible. when I left the gym I was all like now I have to wear something different and then I imagined a conversation I would have with him, don't look at my tits and I won't look at yours.
So the man who date raped me thirty years ago. I file that as something
I do not want to parse.
I do not have dredge that up. i don't. some people lead their lives like; something terrible has happened?! I can't think about it, i will never think about it. it is too dark and it is too deep, and I cannot go there. on the other hand, I've been like bring it on. I'll go dark and i'll go deep as long as it means i can be as genuinely happy as possible. so I'm all on the side of the unexamined life is not worth living, believe me. I've examined my life. and right now I insist on being happy. I'm not going to let it bring me down, I'm going to relegate that man's name back to the dust bin of my collective memory. it is recently deleted, destroyed, deconstructed. I don't have to drag in Jung or Freud or even Alice Miller. I can just say, I had a great workout. I may go uptown to visit the newly re-furbished St. John the Divine. now that is a cathedral. LOVE the arches, Ithink they're Romanesque, but I'm probably wrong. seriously though talk about Blake's "fearful symmetry." yow. and the stained glass isn't too shabby either.
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