2005-08-28 - 9:39 p.m.

i'm home. so much has happened it's hard to rewind.

we went to hong kong and had an incredible time. that night we went out to this spot overlooking the entire harbour. then we went to some bars. wondered around. had a very long talk. beautiful conversation at dinnner. discovering more about a friend. it's all mixed up i tell you.

i'm just trying to unwind from it all. it's hard to do. what a silly idea, go so far to make space to get stuff done. all the tranisition. all the emotional pull between he and i.

i got back and went to this festival with my new friend T. we had a riot all day and night.
wait here's an entry i did after that night in hong kong. ......................
/...........................

Last night was really intense. Busy and I spent the entire night embroiled- in talk. Unveiling new, beautiful details about him. falling in love with the who he is, the complexity and the simplicity. Beyond assumptions. A talk at this beautiful resteraunt overlooking the curvaceous victoria harbor snaking around us on all sides.

We pop in and out of several places. Walking, watching, talking. American businessmen, young Chinese hipsters, an irish luetenant, on small walk streets, every place a nyc style nook. Every other place a Chinese cover band singing in perfect english. Next street we went to was froth with hostess or strip bars. The street was empty. The vibe lonely. Women skattered on the street, lures, bait. We noticed on the front steps of two places offerings for some festival to the moon gods. The complexity of being human, that in one senseless breath all ideas about honoring the body are tossed aside while another concept is still honored. A tradition. An anchor. A truth, displayed on the dark, stained concrete steps, lit by a red and pink and blue neon light. We retired our sense of adventure, headed home and in the taxi he side stepped a mention about attraction or something. And I went there. I asked why he hasn�t been too perky about sex.

I figured that since it was a friend, since honesty was safe, I would explore everything I needed to. Seeking answers to all of my most secret beliefs, air them for just this moment, in this taxi in hong kong. He explained that he had assumed much the opposite about the trip. But then he was sick and in his head about work, but then shortly there after, it became a �thing� and he got too self conscious about it. he talked about the relativity of it. how I was in too close proximation, too close a friend. Too much to be casual with. When we are in la and have known less of eachother, when there was still a spell of suspense, a spell of maybe and maybe not, he felt okay about diving. But plunging into this has the sense of endlessness. Of captivity. I asked if it was me, begged to be ferociously truthful, asked if it was because he wasn�t attracted, if it was too fraternal. I was searching for the reason, for the cain from which I could reliably beat myself. I was ready for anything. He said sorta, yes about the fraternal, but no about the general attraction. More about being friends, too close. Then I dove, is it my body? Is it me? he talked about sexually being to the moon with two women before who were not traditionally attractive so attraction is relative, not about being perfect enough. he said that I�ve got the this and the that, spoke of all the things he enjoyed/appreciated physically about me. it killed me, it�s all the places I�ve walked with sheltering pain over. Places I desperately want nothing more than to duck and cover over. I imagine women in seattle aren�t this painfully shameful, self conscious of their beautiful bodies. I imagine I�m a product of los angeles. One of the most toxic placees in the nation for any sense of feel good. He then commented on how his the girl he dated in Canada was so bad she�d cover her breasts as they had sex. I was blown away. I hurt for her and was releaved not to be the only one on this island. He commented on how much I own it, hbow comfortable I seem, how much he loves it.
I choose to push past my comfort and walk in front of him totally fiercely, past all levels of what I�d normally allow someone to see me. past the levels I�d let me see me, be with me, allow me. stand by me. I remember in college the time I went away with my boyfriend for a weekend. I remember nothing of the trip but the mirrors. The mirrors littered everywhere as a prerequisite to a typical tacky palm springs resort house. I remember the body terror I had. The posing, the hiding, the strategic covering. I remember all the arching of my back in the bathtube to look just, the covering of the bubbles,t he painful discomfort. I remember the constant shame. It was the climax of the moment I disowned my body completely. God damn I just remember driving back and stopping for my favorite comfort food place, it was one of the first times I threw up. I threw up hatred, discomfort, I gained power, inches, silence.

there are still secrets, seeds deeper in me I have lived with. Myths. My secret myths that I protect with shrouds of silence, with years of repetition.
I asked this man, this man as a friend, as someone I would force myself to hear, I told him my secrets and asked for some truth. Knowing, admitting that someday I�d like to really own truth in me, and never have to ask questions. But that the truth right now is that I still have seeds that need excavating. Airing. Asking if it is me? if I�m not enough, how my body is received, how much of how I hold around my belly with the protection of my arms is myth. He broke it down and Buddha help me that I heard it. Buddha help me that I hold it, help me that something real inside takes the place of myth and I don�t have to ask again.

he said the best sex has come from an emotional place. from really knowing a woman. From being in love. blown away. All of my deepest myths being blown away by the whisper of truth. that its not about physical perfection. Why do I believe him? him of all people because he is what I thought of as the culprit, the most essential of all the men that would seek the perfect, would not like me cuz of something physical. I now know truth. This, this I know I need the power of something bigger, this I know I need the healing of an entire community, this I know I need the sustenance of mama ninja and some commitment within myself as well. Because there won�t always be my male friend hip pocketed in a taxi in hong kong to ask. And I don�t want to feel whole by the outside words, its then, that I can become dependent upng the necessity of having someone to salve how I feel on the inside. Like an addict seeking my daily dose dispensed. Placing a lot of power in another. Placing a lot of need, a lot of pressure, a lot of responsibility. As an human on the cusp of deciding to be an adult, I want to own it within. Uniquivicably. I want to own it, dance with it and never set her down. Never set her down again. Not through childbearth and stretch marks and weight and wrinkles. Not through questions and the dress that I swear fit last month. not through rejections and the idolization of external bueaty. I don�t want for a second to allow any of these things to shake me---. Last night as we uncomfortably tumbled into bed, into this strange level of total comfort, I randomly picked up the book, �the 4 agreements,� and opened spontaneously to this page about assumption. About getting information, clarification and not allowing ourselves to run off making a myriad of assumptions to confirm our inner myths.
A revolution.
That�s what I�m asking.

So I get that it�s more about him. I get to feel this great release of my secrets, I get to feel enough. Just enough. Strange. But at night, it was clearer to me why he couldn�t, because it was too close. Too close to be casual. To endless. And this morning. We started to have sex. And it felt amazing, but instantly the most painful emotional endlessness consumed me and silent sobbs started to drown me. my physical self fought, I�d feel a jolt of pleasure, then robbed by the flooding of emotion. My whole heart felt like it was bleeding all over. Like it was open like it never has been. Like my whole self loved him, far too much, like joining together and all that intimacy and sharing had made me too raw. for a second I thought I could overcome, be selfish, come to a climax, then the emotion would submerge me, force my body underwater and I couldn�t. I�d capsize fighting back an all out burst of tears. Nearly wanting to stop so I could fall completely apart. Cry. I couldn�t do that either, I didn�t want to show that much, to lay that on him. that was possibly the first time I�ve felt such a degree of love mixed with sex, of endlessness. Of limitlessness. And of course, of total torrential sensitivity, suffocated. Smuthereed by a knowing that I can�t go all the way here, it�s not safe. I can�t collapse. he�s not truly available to me. to do so would be suicide. And I felt that acute sense of closure within me as well. That painful edge where I want desperately to tumble and yet the wound is too deep, the hurt too near, too engulfing. Swallowing me whole, not letting me for a second just fall deep, away. I�ve never felt stakes quiet like that. I usually can shut it off, leave my body. But here we had, such an emotional closeness, such a raw truth. And then this, this primal way to join. And knowing his reason for not doing it previously, inherently demands that it must be real. And so what is real for me? do I shelve it? real can hurt. Real can tear you apart. Real is what I resist. Real is why I do leave my body. why I violently cut myself off.

Sonowwhat?
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it's such a mess. so we had this incredible last night and day together. in the end we were a total pair. nuzzling into eachother. he held me close and spilled the words, your my girl. but here i know, was painfully aware, of the ways he kept me at an arms length. by the impossiblity. because he can't be in his skin, he's dating a few women, always has things going on. and i can match him play by play. this weekend i did just that. i was so hurt that he was goign back to see this romanian girl. so hurt that he didn't want to spend our first night back together. and his assistant picked us up and showed a picture of him from the his small town paper and it was at his event with some really cute girl at his side.

OUCH.
stabing me. all day in hong kong i knew he was shopping to pick something up for that romanian girl. all day after all we were experiencing. i took some time away because it hurt too much and hiked all through the city to the peak. it's the highest point in hong kong. and a monster of a walk. there was a point that was the last chance to grab a cab before i embarked further alone on the last 30 min of the hike. i made myself walk. the first couple of feet, the hardest. the hardest not because of b eing physically hard, but because of doubt. the daunting effects of doubt. fear. i arrived at the top to meet him for a drink and i was drenched. looked like i walked out from a showering rain.

i had bought this beautiful jade, hand carved braclette that he said it was so beautiful that i had picked out the best thing in the city. he had wanted it for her. he implied that if i didn't buy it he would, double implying that he'd buy it for me, or was it for her? he was slightly vague. and i love to assume. after he shopped, i asked if he had found anything. he said yes but nothing as good as what i had picked.

when we were seperating out things at the airport in los angeles, i slipped the braclette in his bag with the note: "to really give with an open heart is to do so limitlessly. with all my love, ineb."

after he dropped me off, i realized i left my computer in his bag. he didn't call me back that night. there was that festival on his side of town, so like a player, i played a hard hand. ended up picking up the computer after a day of partying, not being able to come in, saying i had a group in the car, he knew i had a guy. i had the guy pull over (he was driving me home) and i ran in to pick up my computer. i was drunk, i could tell he was being wierd. said, come on i'm late.
me: oh are you going to see your girlfriend? are you goign to the romanians? (he hates that i tease about the "girlfr" label as he claims he doesn't have one.)
he: yes i am.
me: is the romanian more important to you than me? tell me, just tell me that.
he: your really pushing your luck with me. he's out in the car and your in here saying this?

he said no. she wasn't. said so after a slight note somehow that it was cute i was jealous. i don't usually show that card. ever. i'm the cool collected. you jsut can't move me. but here i was shrouded by another "in between."

we had talked about getting lost, wasting ourselves with the "in=betweens". the people we let ourselves be with in between the real thing. "in the mean-times." wondering together if that is a bad habit, if its okay to allow oneself to do.

i brought an "in the mean time home". i was hurting. i needed the comfort. i wanted to protect myself. i needed to feel wanted. and i liked the guy. he lied about his age, he's only 24. adorable. a botanist and a bassist. grew up in papa new guinee and no cal. that alone was enough. but then he had these silly green eyes that were so sweet and intense.

when i was with him, i felt hurt like after a breakup. where your body doesn't want to touch. you don't want to open up. because i felt so close to busy. scratching his back always. close. touching constantly. and this felt so superficially replacing. we just made out for hours. and snuggled and slept in. i had a horrible night again, not being able to sleep until 5a.m. jet lag. barely could move by 2 the next day. had to take a tylonol p.m.

i miss busy.
i wonder when this will pass.
i have the understanding from my experience to know that this will pass and i will be grateful. but right now all i feel is the hurt. that familiar yearning. rejection. missing him. wondering how he feels for me. wondering if he felt the same about me as i did him as we spoke all night. as we had sex. as we snuggled for days on end. as thoughts converged and comfort grew, as rhythm took place. as we played, laughed, giggled into eachother. softened bad days, lived good ones together. ...

i wonder. what my importance is to him. i don't like to feel like i'm living under the illusions of myths....

ps. lizard and i haven't spoken. she said she was wide open and watned to talk when i got back. i don't feel the same. some things were said that were so hurtful and i know i haven't let go of them. i haven't begun. and my 30th bday is this weekend coming up. i've given up on it so entirely until cat cornered me tonight and said we are doing something, even if it's not perfect and only essential people show up, we are celebrating it. and she is going to spearhead it. wow. me give up control? me let something be imperfect? this is the lesson. i'm goign to give it over. let it go. i wanted to just walk away from it completely. particularly painful since it's a big one. an important number. i just have too much going on.

the whole trip in the sun and when not in the sun, scaffing under a covering necklase has made my scar so much worse. it's supposed to get better, now it's only getting worse. worse. worse worse. i feel like i grow imperfections rather then improve through them.

i'm afraid to have a party and no one comes. i usually overdo everything to make sure it's successful and full. but i've let go of so much of the clutter. i've let all the unnecessaries go. so it's boned down. i don't want to feel like a failure.

being with someone these two weeks showed me something. i was surprised to have enjoyed, loved loving someone i respect. i loved the feeling of partnership. it made me see how much i want to fall in love again. how much i want to feel "that way" again. how much i want to take it on. become ready. open up for that lesson to. ...