No Old Dream - 12-27-09

No Old Dream

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What is the price of suffering?

Better question to be – what is the gain?

With burn’d eyes I twitch to see

The end I might attain.

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The one who had no purpose

No chain to hold her down to earth

Now can just see the breaking light

Of a dawn brought painfully to birth.

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So many dreams died through the years

Old hat at gath’ring ashes strewn,

Can hardly feel the stretch

Of healthy limbs pulled askew.

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With mind swept clean by stinging brushes

With understanding riveted together

In the toyshop of my life

I can grip a new chain all-weathered.

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This drifted one has a legacy

A wand’ring end that may yet reach me.

All earth tilts its head to wonder

That my life doesn’t end with me.

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I will not dream of death,

Of tender ends and tender mercies,

I will not run like colors in rain

Squalls sinking me in raging seas.

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My legacy, hard-won, badged with courage,

Will yet do good to those of mine,

Will yet show order in the chaos,

Rhythm weaving through dissonant rhyme.

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I count this all worth the pain,

Without complaint I stump through,

For my man, my children,

My greater purpose will shine true.

Healing - 12-26-09

Healing

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Let us not speak of specifics,

Let us talk of generalities –

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Of greater truths

And lessons learned,

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Of arching thoughts

And the tracks of wounds,

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So we can see the beauty of the healing

And feel none of the pain.

O God! My God! - 12-26-09

O God! My God!

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O God! My God!

Come out from your shaded throne room,

Come out with muscled arm raised, with fisted strength ready!

Come to work on my behalf, on the behalf of your pioneer into the unknown.

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O God! My God!

Will you choose your weapons of strength or weapons of speed –

Weapons of truth or justice or even mercy, pray?

Which of your arsenal toys will you pick up to avenge me?

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O God! My God!

This your world is old and tired and I your young-eyed one.

I look to you, my General, to lead the charge.

I wait and watch and listen for your bugle call to action, to choice.

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O God! My God!

How will you move; which tack will you take

To speed the slowing of this miry, ramshackle path we find ourselves on?

Will you go this way or that? By day or shadesome night?

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O God! My God!

I see your sinewy thigh, the banded knee which takes my place

At the head of your legions of thought and truth, of hope and righteousness.

I fall to the flank, unseen but still seeing, ever watching.

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O God! My God!

Give me the reward I have earned, reward each according to what he has done!

I have been faithful and loved where I am left –

Which weapon will see my upturned heart righted?

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O God! My God!

My vindication is in your sight, your eye is on my end!

And this one I loved I love still with your love.

This one will know what was given up when I was abandoned.

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O God! My God!

I look to your thick-veined hand to do your justice by me

With the gentleness of truth, to take your wild wisdom and with every step

Show this one I love the truth of the choice made.

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O God! My God!

We go together, O God, my God, into this unknown that is known to you.

I follow at your footstep, roll up our tents and weapons and march on

To slice into this wilderness of your will.

Dear John - 12-20-09

My Dear B____,

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As I haven’t heard from you in a month except for the most perfunctory conversations, I guess I won’t be able to tell you this in person. Which is really a shame, because it’s not what you would think. The first and last thing I must say to you is, “Thank you.” Let me explain. I can’t know why really we went wrong. I saw so many ways we could work, but you seemed to think of just as many ways that we couldn’t. And each time we seemed to fall apart, I never knew why. You never told me what I did wrong or why it couldn’t work. Did I scare you by my timeline, my “life plan”? Did you think me too weak to handle your life when I showed you my scars? Did you see how lovely my life and family was and worried you couldn’t compete? Did I make some other unidentified mistake? I never had closure. I’ll admit, I probably needed a big learning curve but you always did underestimate me. I am a quick learner. Then it occurred to me that I was a rebound. You had only been out of your engagement a few months when you stumbled on me. It’s a bit of a shock to think all I had worked for and saved up was to be given to someone who was only ready for a transitional person. So perhaps one might do you a disservice in evaluating your conduct harshly. You did the best you could with what you had. But do you know how much good you did me? Oh, let me count the ways.

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My dearest wish was to have a lasting, real relationship with God, where Jacob could finally stop wrestling and understand how to be. I never thought that would happen. Until you. I was caught up in my questioning and analysis and fearful planning so that I could never let go. Until you. I never understood faith and trusting my next step when I couldn’t see it. Until you. Having known you, I have known how true all the fairy tales are, how hopeful love really is, and how to finally understand the truth – that seeking wisdom is all you ever need to do – as I navigated my confusion and grief.

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You underestimated, I think, the power and stability of my love for you. You possibly thought that having fallen so quickly in love and with the first man I ever even liked naturally countered any confidence you might have in it. You no doubt thought I had either gotten over it when you left or became helpless in it as you kept coming back. None of that was true. From the night you first kissed me, I knew you were what I wanted. And through all the turbulence that unaccountably followed, I loved you purely. I loved you steadily. I loved you patiently. I loved you unselfishly. When the pain of your absence cut me, I prayed for your well-being, your success, your wisdom. To be truthful, B____, you made me a wife. You taught me how to see real flaws and not see those obstacles but instead appreciate the laundry list of good qualities you had. You taught me what it was love a man with God’s love, to want your well-being more than I want you. You taught me what it was to rejoice in someone else’s successes and take on their pain. You taught me how to be a helpmeet even in my utter lack of experience. You taught me patience. There is a reason the first quality of love listed in I Corinthians 13 is “love is patient.” I came to you on your terms, as a friend, this last time. I guess I was still too slow, or it was too late. But you never knew all the good I did you. Your father pulling through during that storm, yours and your family’s faith probably stressed to the breaking point – that was my prayer I offered up with absolute faith and certainty that it would be answered, and it was. Your success in that murder case when you had been working on it for a year and had so little faith it would be rewarded with the justice you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was deserved – on my knees I offered you up and prayed for you to have wisdom from God’s own head, for him who saw all that you did not to give you insight, to show you some small wrinkle you hadn’t noticed that would be the key to winning justice for this family. Because you had taken yourself from me, the only way I could help you was to pray for you. To lift you up. To cover you with my love and protection from afar so not a chink of armor could be seen. To pray for rest and peace and sound sleep. To pray for success in your endeavors, blessing on your lips and actions, wisdom in every decision, boldness in the choices you must make. Such freedom I had in giving you all that was in my power to give. And it astounded me to see the joy and unwavering faith I had gained through the past six months that I never would have learned if not for you.

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I probably won’t ever know why you didn’t think me worth a real try, but you also had trouble seeing yourself clearly. And with all that has happened, I can say without a stutter that you are a wonder. You are so far beyond any other man I have ever met or known. You are in a class with my father who has been there alone all these years. I see such potential in you and such goodness. You do have flaws. My love was never blind. But I learned from my mother, who, when tempted to complain about my father, so often stopped and said, “You know what? I can’t believe how lucky I am. Sure, he has his flaws, but he has so, so many wonderful qualities. How petty it would be to complain.” I was never intimidated by your flaws, nor was I so naïve as to think your scars would simply go away if I loved you enough. You made me wise and you made me tough. Tough enough to handle anything you could throw at me. Tough enough to handle your family and the particular difficulties of your job. Tough enough to shut my mouth against complaint and ask for wisdom instead. Tough enough to solve my own problems so at least one person in your life wasn’t a mess you had to clean up. Tough enough to give all that I had to give without thought of failure or rejection or misstep. You taught me courage.

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You were lucky to have known me, because I will do you good all the days of your life. For the rest of my life, when I think of you, I will lift you up with perfect faith and cover you with protection. When things go right when you didn’t think they would, when disaster is narrowly averted, when a family gathering has an unexpected vein of peace running through it, when your endeavors meet with success, a little part of that will be my prayers. Have no doubt: prayer is powerful. And there is no chink anymore in my faith. God was too close by my side when I was alone. And long after I can think of you with nothing more than affectionate nostalgia, I will still be doing you good. I am a full complement of marvelous qualities because I have earned them. I have from my earliest memory laid up a store of lessons and character and wisdom for the good of my husband and children. For all my flaws, I am smart and funny and wise and compassionate, sexy and patient and playful and kind, warm and still and curious and wild, easy-going and passionate and refined and clear-eyed, pure and strong and soft and beautiful, and so filled with wonder that I wonder if my eyes can let it all out. You will never meet a woman such as me again. Which is why I want to tell you that you were the only man I ever knew who was worth all of that. Never doubt that.

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To have known such a man as you, even with your shortcomings, has been a blessing. All I will ever say of you was that I learned so much from you and you were a gift to me. Your name is safe in my mouth. And my prayer for you now is that you have wisdom from God’s own head as you embark on this new relationship. That when you meet the right woman you have discernment to see it for what it is and not look back with regret that you didn’t give it a real try. That you have boldness in your decisions and that some woman would unlock your heart and show you the freedom of risking it all and feeling secure in it.

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I’m sorry I never got to meet your family. I so looked forward to all I could have learned from your mother and father. I have covered them so many times with my love and respect. Despite their well-meaning neglect of you, they were instrumental in making you the man you are and I have nothing but respect for them. I so wanted to tell them one day how much their son is loved. I have lifted your sisters up and covered them with my prayers.

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I cover you with my love, B____ M____, and send you off with a blessing on my lips. May God make his face shine upon you. May he bless you in the city and in the field. May he watch over your coming and going. May he be your shade at your right hand. May he give you perfect wisdom, which is perfect love. May you know how utterly unique you are, how wondrously powerful your potential is, how very much good you can do in this world. I believe in you, B____, and you will accomplish such great things.

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Be happy. Live your life. Have no regrets. And trust – above all things – trust that you are not alone.

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All my love,

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Nicole

Devastation - 12-12-09

December 12

Your colors were strong and clean like your scent.

So heavy they brushed me, my defenses rent.

You colored me, stained me, tattooed on my skin.

I had new hues now – belonging could begin.

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They’re running now, watering down with each day.

Their vining strength leach my keening voice away.

Tinted dreams cracked to bare the gray beneath

And left me with pots of invisible ink.

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Had ashes been near, they’d be rubbed in my hair

To smear your sweet shades, to smudge them together.

I’ll find new colors, stains to mark me wanted,

In the face of your false blush be flaunted.

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To you must go the credit, my love, it’s true:

You made me strong enough to bear the loss of you.

Why I Love Him - 12-2-09

Why I love B____ M____:

· he is amazing

· he is so, so funny and with a razor-sharp wit

· he cares deeply about living a life he can be proud of, like me

· he manages to be wonderfully, reassuringly confident without being the least bit arrogant; how does he do that?

· he is the most stubborn creature I have ever met but because he is always trying to improve himself, he will consider things in his own way, in his own time, so whatever he does, whatever new experiences he tries or whatever changes of heart he shows, they are all completely authentic

· he is devoted to his family, regardless of the hurts they have dealt him and the subtle neglect he has experienced

· he is a wonderful judge of character

· he can make me feel completely accepted, just the way I am

· he could have, with complete justification, turned his back on God for the suffering he witnessed and experienced, but somehow he has validated a hunger inside himself to be reconciled to God, to come to an understanding of God and his place in the world that he can accept, to wrestle as Jacob did, as I do, to know an often unknowable God and access him

· he is so smart, so intelligent, so wise in his career, his choices and goals, and his relationship

· he refuses to mislead or mitigate the importance of very special emotions. He will not say “I love you” until it means everything.

· he is all or nothing

· he loves the idea of being “my first” and teaching me; my lack of experience is, to him, not a barrier but an open doorway

· he is unfailingly kind and considerate to all people

· he loves his job, which is essentially that of Batman, to earn justice for the defenseless. My hero.

· he is 6’5”, a full 15 inches taller than me. I love that his feet can at once be so huge and so adorable, and that his hands completely encompass mine and that he is so big that he simply covers me. The pleasure of his body dizzies me.

· his laugh is so cute – it’s quick and repetitive, like a very appealing, husky rat-a-tat-tat machine gun

· he has such a nice voice, such a lovely quality, deep but also rich

· he is a very good kisser – makes my knees weak

· OH, MY GOD, HIS SCENT. I REALLY GET TO HAVE THAT THE REST OF MY LIFE?

· he could make more money in private practice, but he endures the lower pay, the ridiculous liabilities of being a public prosecutor, and the frequent frustration of helping those who often don’t appreciate it, all so he can leave at 5 and be home with his wife and children

· he truly has a heart for a family life; he is not a player and, like me, everything he does, every choice he makes, is with the best interests of his future family at heart

· he wants sons to do father-son things with which he was denied growing up, and to carry on the family name

· did I mention his scent?

· he gets along with my parents so well; then again, he gets along with everybody

· he would be an amazing lover

Why B____ M____ is meant for me, created just for me, intended for me since the dawen of time:

See “Why I love B____ M____.”

Word Finds and Hidden Truths - 8-13-09

Word finds – terrible, addictive things. Once they get you in their clutches, there’s nothing for it but to go with it – the hours wasted, the bleary eyes, the ink on your fingers. It’s just too fun.

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And enlightening, too. I discovered this Monday night when I was livid at B____ for so stubbornly keeping his distance. Calling me “kiddo” in his voicemail? What the hell. I’d already been tossed around for a month by the unpredictable and undeniably slow-moving waters of this resurgence of our relationship, and I was just done. I was ready to take him to task for not being clear about his feelings and being aboveboard with me about them. Turned out to be a good thing he kept not answering the phone.

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I was laying across my hotel bed at the Homestead, stewing in my own juices, calling him terrible things in my head, and determinedly doing word find after word find. My focus kept splitting and my word finds were taking longer to do.

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And I noticed a trend emerging. Inevitably, you’ll come across a word you just can’t find and you think, “Well, the creator of this puzzle made a mistake and obviously forgot to put the work in.” You’re frustrated and irritated and all you can think is, “I can’t find this word!” I find when this happens, the only thing that works is to step back a moment – because invariably your focus has narrowed to each letter you’re looking at and you’ll never find the words that way – and start again with a new perspective. If you’ll look again for the word as if you just started looking, with the assumption that you will of course find it still intact, suddenly there it is. It was there the whole time. The creator of the puzzle didn’t make a mistake, didn’t simply forget to include a vital piece. As long as you’re focusing on how you’re not finding it, you’ll keep not finding it. But if you change your perspective and remember what it felt like with you started, when you were still unquestioning and certain you would find what you were looking for easily, you find it like a lightning flash.

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And it occurred to me, sprawled there on the bed, my knuckles white with strain and anger around my pen, that I love B____. B____ R____ M____ is my choice. The only one I want. But I’ve been so cautious about choosing the right one that I didn’t know how far my own choice carried me. How much say did my fallible, short-sighted human desires count in the grand scheme of “God’s plan,” and what would prove itself as the right choice in the long run?

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But I recognized that at every blind turn and hesitant step since summer and the demise of my relationship began, I have actively sought God’s wisdom, God’s plan, and God’s will, at the expense of my own. How many times have I thought of how much I want B____ but prepared myself to accept that he was not the right choice for me? And you cannot seek God so consistently and so humbly and still be acting out of accordance with his will and wisdom. It doesn’t happen. When you align yourself with God so diligently, you don’t have to stop and study every action, every desire, every choice as closely as you would if your will and desires were still wild and rebellious. And I had already over the past several weeks come to the startling realization that while all my l ife I had waited for God to point to the One – already planned out with no input from me – perhaps it isn’t so fatalistic. I had known that God knows what man is destined to be my mate, but I believe now that part of what makes that man the chosen one is because I actually choose him. It does make a difference that I point and say, “Him. That one right there, I want him.” Sort of like those time-travel stories where you can’t figure out which comes first, the chicken or the egg. So maybe it does make a difference that I love him. Maybe the fact that B____ is the one for me isn’t just a matter of God choosing for me, and then I’ll love him, then I’ll feel it. It’s an amalgamation of the two. But I was still a little unsure of how much I could do to make him indeed the one.

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And then two nights ago, I realized there’s no need to keep hesitating, waiting for God’s wisdom. I already have it. This whole summer of fire has aligned me with it. God isn’t going to just leet me drift into a relationship where for the rest of my life I’m doing all the loving, where I’m left neglected and unsatisfied by a man who just doesn’t really, passionately love me. It’s not possible that I would hold onto B____ out of sheer rebellious stubbornness, more concerned with what I want than what will make me happy in the long run. That’s just not who I am, first of all, to keep my head down and not think and hold onto something out of fear or habit. And second, that’s certainly not going to happen when I’m consistently praying for wisdom to let go of what I want “if it’s right.”

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Seeking God so much means that I come under his protection. I don’t have to constantly look in all directions to ensure I don’t wander or slip down the wrong path because someone’s doing that already. I’m letting someone do that for me. So (1) I have a pretty good chance after so many months being refined in the fire of wanting the right thing, and (2) I can focus on my desires and follow them single-mindedly because someone else is taking care of curveballs and upsets coming from other directions.

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And all this time still doing my word finds which allow my mind to wander down this path, I’m thinking and thinking. And I land on the final piece of the puzzle which answers my long-held question: What do I do?

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Be stubborn.

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B____ is, hands-down, the most stubborn person I have ever met. And I’m more stubborn still. I want him. I know that my love for him is the kind that will outlast both of us. It’s been refined in the fire. And I have the conviction that I can, indeed, hold onto him even if he’s not holding back yet, because my wanting him makes him the one for me. And all the awkwardness and terrible uncertainty fall away. I can talk to him and not obsess about the lack of clearly romantic signals. They’ll come.

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I am going to be stubborn about this because every time I hold it up to God, ready to hand it to him and face life without it, I look down to find it’s been left in my hand. Too, God and I both know at any moment, if it’s done and needs to end, I’ll let it happen. So knowing God’s taking care of me and knowing I’m in the right place for the “right thing” to happen, I can be stubborn and know that he will come to me sooner or later. No more fear, no more doubt, no more wondering if I should hold onto it. I’m holding on till it’s ripped from my fingers. Brock on!!

My Worth - 8-5-09

My worth is great, as is what I have to offer. I am precious and worthy. I deserve to be loved truly and without reservation. I deserve to be pursued, to be made a fuss over. I am worth great effort, hard compromises, and no secret wonderings of whether I am wanted or not. I deserve truth in the inner parts and no guards. I deserve to be wildly loved and greatly cherished. And I deserve these things because I am willing to give all of this in return.

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Whatever happens with B____, whatever comes of this critical mass to set our courses once and for all, I will have what I want, one way or another. I am cared for and planned for. I am a well-watered garden.

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Wisdom is mine. Knowledge and understanding, too. A discerning heart as well to make use of it all. These are mine because I ask for them.

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And at the end of the path these bricks form – love. Love with abandon, the love that requires all your weakness and flaws to make you strong and true. The love worth all the risks because it will repay a hundredfold. This love is mine. It is mine now. And it will be mine for always.

My Creed - 8-4-09

My life has a purpose. What I do is not my job. It is who I am. What I do is do what I love. Create, learn, say “yes,” and move forward. I will continue to do these things and remain steadfast in my commitment to be amazed.

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You give me wisdom, God, and I will not stagnate. This is my covenant with you.

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I am here for a reason. My life has purposes and “becauses” I can’t even imagine yet. They have crystallized from my pain and been stitched into my DNA. My life matters. And nothing will change that. This is my creed.

Unexpected Development - 7-20-09

If there is one thing I have learned from this past month and a half, it is to trust God. It is to trust his will for my life and to believe absolutely that all things are being worked for my good. After all the heartache, questions, crying out, and going under, from the death of my love to the unexpected opportunity of letting it flourish again, the one constant has been God’s strength. My one consistent focus has been on wisdom, whatever form it should take and whatever it should do with me. Wherever it may lead me, wisdom will carry me through to a safe harbor where I am wanted and loved unequivocally, where I am free finally to let out all my heart’s stores and have them take root.

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Whatever happens with this latest development, when B____ unexpectedly texted last Saturday night, I will be cared for. My feet will find the right path and God will take care of me. Whoever the One is, God will lead me to him and into his ready heart. I will have what I dream and God’s own wisdom will guide me to it.

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What unexpected peace I feel at a point where I have no idea which path will rise up to meet me. God does answer my prayers.

Defenseless - 6-26-09

I love him, I love him, I love him. With each passing day that he holds himself away from me, I love him and face my helplessness. It’s been over two weeks since I’ve seen him, and sometimes, he takes on an air of unreality, like I conjured him out of my loneliness. But then I think of his quirks and flaws and know that I would never have made those up, and I feel almost a gratitude for those flaws, those differences from me – they mean he is real, that he exists.

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It is breathtaking – a little more of my breath stolen every day and not given back – to see how defenseless I am to him. Whatever he does to me, whatever comes of this trying time for him and for me, I am laid open, not even an inadequate hand to flutter protectively over my bared chest. I would give him everything. Everything. I love him, I love him, I love him. I love him so helplessly it is difficult in this shadowy time to use his name – it has too much power over me. There is at present too much potential for destruction in that name. His name is locked in my heart, branded there. I have two tattoos now – his name, like his scent and his voice and his mouth, has marked me for his.

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In the blessed intervals between my crippling uncertainty, my wobbly patience is laid over thickly and securely with my glowing conviction that he is mine. He was made for me. I am for him and I claim him. In this difficult time he is going through with his family, of which I know almost nothing and of which he shares nothing with me, I cover him with my love. I speak my love over him, wrap him up with it from my side of the ocean he filled with his doubts and his weariness. I protect him with that rare thing – my love, that which I have held from every other male I have ever known or tried to know. Will he ever know the crushing value of what I offer? Will he ever truly understand, should he ever take me in his arms again, what it is that he holds? He would have laid at his feet in silk and ribbons and patience and awareness the sum total of all this woman holds within herself. Worlds within worlds within worlds. A love that would burn for him and him alone. A lively brain and instinct for miles and a quick-learning wit. For all my flaws, I can love well and I can love long. His children are in me. Does he know this? Does the idea occur to him in unexpected flashes before he pushes it away in his uncertainty?

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Can all the wanting and almost awed wondering I saw in his eyes truly dissipate so quickly, so suddenly? It is rather debilitating to have gone for thirty years never being made to feel wanted and beautiful and finely made, innocent and good to be so, and then within a few weeks have all my defenses dashed in his open admiration and tender care, only to have it all sucked away into an unknown void like a star going supernova. It leaves me shaken and waiting and so silent and always wondering. My head hurts with all the questions. And all I am left with is prayer. It is all I can do.

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I spread my love over him like Boaz’ cloak over Ruth, claiming him and standing for him in all the unknowns that lash me. Surely my love and God’s love are enough to bring him through this and back to me. Surely this is not all to be wasted. Surely I was not laid open like Christmas turkey, utterly defenseless against him, after all these years, just to pray for him for a couple of weeks. Surely God is far more efficient than having to sacrifice an already teetering, dying heart that so easily came to life, for the sake of a man who could feel honestly before leaving just as honestly. Surely, all of this, all of the startling coincidences, all the tiny pieces snapped into place, all the love I was never able to give until this big, warm, kind man unlocked it with his inimitable scent – surely all those harmonious pieces are not to go dashing about the board with no hand to draw them back together again. Surely, surely, it must mean something that I, who has never come close to loving a man before, who stayed untouched for so long I came to think I was untouchable, have chosen, or been chosen, to love this man with all the heart, all the need and passion and purity, that I’ve been harboring for so many years.

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I was made for him. The fact that he cannot warrant how wonderful I find him shows that all the other women were wrong for him – not because they were bad or more flawed than me, but simply because they could not see him. I can see him, like I have the only set of lenses that can focus on him, or I’m the only one who speaks his language. I see him as so wondrous precisely because I can see him so clearly, as he cannot yet believe. He is a marvel, wrought by God’s own hands, just for me. He is for me, and no woman will ever be able to love him as I do. I think he is exhausted by stress on all fronts and scared of the quickness and surety of my love. I think he went on Match.com with the right idea of what he wanted, but didn’t realize he wasn’t ready for what that was to be dropped so quickly and easily into his lap. I think he was not prepared to be loved so well, or so truly, or so quickly. He does not know – as well as he knows me – how sure and true a thing like that is precisely because it’s me who is giving this to him. He knows but still doesn’t accept that it has never come close to happening for me before because he is the only one with the key.

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And so I keep grasping for faith where I have none, somehow finding bits and pieces of it that weren’t there before in the waves of love that sweep over me. I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him. And someday, this torture of wanting what doesn’t want me will be over and I will be truly loved back.

Is It Coming? - 6-24-09

Oh, God, I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to call this into existence, but I have such a feeling in me. I don’t quite recognize it. What is this expansive, airy horror, this great big, still, spreading thing? I think it’s fear. Fear of the coming pain if what I am afraid is true is, indeed, true. It’s the anticipation of the agony. It’s seeing the torturer coming, seeing the despair in the distance that has no obstacles to stop it from reaching me. After so many years of pain and despair and loneliness, barely making it through sometimes, I can’t bear the promise of more of it. I’m afraid of the pain. I can hear the boots ringing out as they come for me, the sound of the key in the lock, the grating of the door. I’m so afraid of the pain that could be coming for me. It’s going to hurt so much.

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And my heart will not break. It will not rip or tear or fall apart. It will merely shrink back, lose the volume it took with love. It will take on the hardness of porous coal or the tough stringiness of a piece of gristle. And I may not even cry. Thirty years of being alone trumps a few glorious weeks of being in love and feeling safe and whole and free. And I will not speak of it to my friends or to my parents. I will not even speak of it to myself. It will be as if he never existed. And if this love does end in pain as it must if it does end, then I, who has valued even pain and trial for the truth of the experience, will say it would have been better never to have loved, never to have met him and seen the locked door of my dreams creak open at last to shower me with the warmth and light of possibility. A few weeks of love are not worth more pain after a lifetime of it. And I will survive and not weep and have nowhere to go from the pain of the loss. And no one will see the crack. Because there will be no crack. You can’t be alone for thirty years and not have learned how to be alone again. Force of habit.

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But oh, God, please, I don’t want to hurt. Please say you will not go from my side, that you will not leave me for one moment if this comes to pass. Bring him the love he is looking for, peace and joy and wisdom in his every decision. Fill him up with life and hope and faith. I love him, I love him, I love him. Does it make any difference that I love him? I love him. I lift him up to you and pray that he makes the right decision and has unprecedented wisdom straight from your head. Oh, give him the life he deserves. He is so wonderful and so honorable and worthy of such respect. Show him the path to what he wants, even if it is away from me. And should it indeed lead him away from me, shore up my heart to bear the reasons for it from his mouth, and please don’t leave me in the echoing silence left in his wake. I am afraid of the pain.

Pulling Away - 6-17-09

I wish he would come to me now. I wish he would take me into his arms and murmur to me that he wants me, that he wants only me, that he will want me for the rest of his life. I want him to listen to me, to hear my need, and to tell me he wants me to belong to him and him alone. I want to be wanted, more than anything he has ever wanted. I want to be loved.

The Unthinkable! - 5-1-09

Oh, my God. I can’t believe it. I am in love. It has actually happened. This is not one of those numerous visualization entries. This is happening now, this day. It is here.

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His name is B____ M____, and he is me, in pants. We already share half a brain. And what makes this so incredible, aside from the obvious, is that a matter of days ago, I had no idea he actually existed. Then he found my profile on Match.com and emailed me and the rest will be history.

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And the kicker is that I haven’t even met him in person yet. We’re going on our first date tomorrow night. I have fallen in love with his mind, his personality, his character. And he ain’t bad-looking, either, I can tell you that! He is funny as hell, honest, decent, clever, funny, ambitious, kind, gentlemanly, funny, chivalrous, mature, easy-going, grounded, and funny. He is a lawyer who is in it to help people. Our jobs are so similar. He can really understand my situation. He’s been there, but he, like me, is at heart an optimist, always wanting to believe the best in people.

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He has so many of the qualities I wanted in a man. He has a large, close-knit family locally based, he makes a good living and probably could support me. He is all the qualities I mentioned above and the most amazing thing is that from talking on the phone with him, I truly think he would not only understand my values and my virginity, but value it as I do. It didn’t come up, of course, but it’s a definite comfort I have in that regard. And as a prosecutor for Newport News (ironically he works a few miles away from me), he deals with violent crimes all day, so I would imagine he would truly value my innocence, my inexperience, my virginity as an antidote to what he deals with all day long. I always wanted to be that for someone, but never thought to articulate it, even to myself. He also is concerned about me working in that part of town. He said, “I don’t even know you, but I just want to give you a hug! You shouldn’t be working there!” And I felt all warm inside. He is protective already. He really would be good at taking care of me, and at the same time, he is cool and easy-going and doesn’t give the impression at all that he would be intimidated by my smart, independent side.

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B____ is 6’5”, 210 lbs, size 15 shoe. He never put himself down, which is a real turn-off for me, but he clearly has a sense of humor about it. But I love it. I love that he’s so much bigger than me. Already, though his voice and his emails, I feel surrounded, protected, and safe.

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I am amazed. I am just astounded. My cheeks have been hurting for two days because I can’t stop smiling – grinning, more like. I couldn’t help myself – I told my friends, and they could all see how giddy and grinning and happy and giggling I was. I can’t wait to be able to go public with him, with all my friends and family – they will fall in love with him. He’s just so sweet and outgoing and smart and funny and good! And even though I told myself I’d wait till I had actually, you know, met the guy before telling people about him or saying I was in love – I couldn’t. from everything I know of being in love, even though I’ve never been in love before, this is it. I have never felt this.

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And like another visualization entry, I am so looking forward to tomorrow night. B____ just makes me so comfortable. I’m not nervous at all. I keep thinking, in fact, “Do I have to wait all day till I see him?” Now that is astounding.

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What’s so great is that my friends who have known me the longest, Analiese, Annie, Rachel, and of course Jessica, all really know how big this is. They know how significant it is that I, who have never made the first move, was the one to give B____ my personal email, then my number. I was the one who actually said we should hang out. And I’m glad. I’m glad that first move was me because it really showed me how natural this felt.

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I’m like all those people who are in love whom I always just watched before. I check my email constantly, grin and giggle at the thought of his hilarious emails, daydream about him. Ever since yesterday morning – God, was it just yesterday? – when I read his email where he said “Everybody’s Changing” by Keane is one of his all-time favorite songs and I flippantly called my mother on my way to work that I had to marry this man – ever since that moment, I was gone. He is the one. The One. He is my husband. I’m now thinking about the wedding, the kids, the family holidays where I’ll knock this take-out-raised kid’s socks off with my cooking. I won’t tell him all this yet of course. But he’s just as into me, I can tell. He took his profile off Match.com right after we talked on the phone last night for the first time, and he called me “hon” in another email which made me want to dance a little jig. He is not looking anywhere else, but he’s not rushing me. He’s genuinely content just to get to know me and go at my own pace. Amazing. Unbelievable. Miraculous. I think I may just get a fall 2009 wedding after all.

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I actually woke up last night – after taking 3 melatonin – at 2:45 from thinking about him! He woke me up! I am in love. Honestly, if he asked me to marry him tomorrow night on our first date, I’d say yes. I’m in love. I’m in love!