At the beginning of this year, I was talking with my best friend.
We both were thinking what is it that we want 2013 to bring us.
Almost in unison we said to each other - LOVE.
I said I want to fall in love. I want to fall in love in that adolescent, heartpumpingweakknessperspiringembracivelove.
I knew that this love would be a man. I have always and I guess I will always love me.
I love men. I am pulled to them. I am attracted by their physical form. Their beauty. Their strength.
The fragility that is a quivering upper lip.
The vulnerability of their long eyelashes or bushy eyebrows
The tenderness of the skin under the voicebox on the neck.
The presence of life as the chest heaves in deep breaths. Sharp inhalations that pump up the chest and the relaxation that comes with exhalation. I like bulky men. I imagine stretched on the slight [or some times not so slight] protuberance of the gut. I am fixated on strong hands and forearms..hair or no hair...a strong hand drives me mad. I love to look at it. I am uplifted by the same hand if it is a firm handshake. I like strong sturdy almost to the point of bruising my hand handshake
My heart flusters from soft but strong lips of a man.
A lick of the thick well formed lips can drive me off a desire cliff. Men interest me. Intrigue me. Arouses a desire in me.
I like to be held by a man. I like to hold a man. Some times the fit is soo good in a spooning position that makes me wonder, "we fit together so well, how can someone have a problem with this?" I love strong men.
Strong men who also are not vain about their masculinity. Those who are so masculine until they smile. You see the sparkle in their eye. You sense their aura. You smell their essence. You are overpowered by their masculinity in a way that is not threatening. I am not talking about over-sized men physically. Rather I am more interested in men who are just men. Some times my OCD takes over and I think that there is some thing that they need to do differently. Then I know that is not the man I am looking for.
But this post was not about that. This post was about being in love. Being loved. A declaration that I want to be loved and to love....a love that is as delicious as biting into a juicy ripe mango....with the juices flowing over your hand. And you lick it up. So that no single drop is lost. And your hand has mango smell for some time. I am talking about that love. Maybe you have been in love like that before. Maybe you are looking for that kind of love. That is the love that I was yearning for at the beginning of the year.
It is not that I have not experienced this before. I have [a story for another post]. I loved him. I was crazy about him. He had curly hair. He had a moustache and a goatee. He had hair on his body. He had strong hands and a burly build. He bought me flowers once. I could not stand being away from him for even a minute. If there was a movie made about us at that point, it would have made the cynics believe. He would hold my hand. He would put his muscular hand on the small of my back to steer me away from people in crowded places. That would drive me mad. He would steal glances during dinner or meetings, or social gatherings....I would catch him staring at me. Some times with his mouth agape. He would be looking at me through mirrors in a building or a restaurant or a bar. When apart, he would call me every other hour just to hear my voice. I would relish those moments. I would sit back and talk about every thing and nothing at all. We would spend time on the phone. We rode the train once. Together. In the dining area. I remember at some point the entire cabin faded into whiteness [at least that is what I remember]....and it was just him and I. In the cabin. In this train. Riding through the jungle. I could see his reflection on the train windows. He looked very masculine....and yet, when I looked into this eyes there was a gentleness, a sparkle, a vulnerability there that made me want to hug him and hold on to him for eternity. Until jolted out of that space by an offer for more wine. [no it wasn't the wine thinking...]
At the beginning of the year, I was not longing for that feeling specifically. I have grown up since then. I have been with others. The love has been there. Only I can not say that I have been IN love. And trust me, there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone and they being in love with you. I am looking to be in love and someone to be in love with me. I want to giggle every time I see them. I long for the rush of blood to my face when they walk in the room. I long for the unexpected tingle when our skins accidentally touch. Now that am older and more protective, an almost medieval cloaking with my clothes and an oath that I will always protect them.
I am not sure if I have found the one. Being older brings with it being jaded about love. I refuse to be jaded. Maybe I have found the one. I want to cry when he is not near me. Going a day without seeing him fouls my mood. He seldom smiles. When he does, he brightens the room [at least I think so]. His brown eyes says so much. There is a longing that. A longing that for me is a belonging. A being with one when my eyes meet his.
But is he the one? Not sure he feels the same way. It is complicated for him and for me. See I have loved someone. Not sure am in love with him but I love him. In the way that you love and care for a sibling. The chemistry I feel is gone on my part. It seems he is still in love with me. How can that be? Wait, don't answer that...it is what is happening to me...I am in love with someone else who may not be available to me.I dont want to be jaded about love. I dont want to let this go till I know for sure that he is not in love with me. I dont know how to gauge that. It is complicated. A cliche' that rings true for me at the moment. The heart is no so smart. Maybe the universe is teaching me some thing. Maybe this was meant to happen to help me realise what I have with the one who is still in love with me. Maybe I should run back into his open arms and let his love and believe in us calm me and cloak me for the foreseeable future. Maybe.
The heart is not so smart.....
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