And the final letting go into Boulder Creek on a beautiful spring day (Thank you Steve Solga for capturing the moment!)
You are beautiful, youthful, radiant. Each time we meet, my wide smile is a testament to your effect on me.
There is an intensity in your eyes, in your words and in your life. A touch, a whisper or a small glance sends shivers up my spine.
A seemingly unending reservoir of power, your myriad emanations continually grace me.
Your insatiable sexual desire is quenched only through our union; seeking the ineffable, the elevated, the eternal through the merging of our interlaced bodies, hearts and minds. Dancing in the sublime, we discover endless, transcendent time.
You have contemplated your mortality, you have gazed at your shadows, you seek to discover your unknown potentiality.
In this empowering presence you invite me to meet you from my own masculine centeredness. My heart exposed, my vulnerabilities laid bare, you invite my trust, if I so dare.
You see relationship as a deep dialogue, not a lifeless contract easily abdicated. Monogamy and polyamory are just words to you – you flow easily where you need to.
Blonde or brunette, tall or short, herbivore or carnivore – just minor details in a love that is based on so much more.
If this is you, please swipe right.
You expressed I love you in a poem. Six months later you took it back. Accused of manipulation, I respond in kind. The lack of eye contact should have been a warning sign. Pouring my insecurities and shadows into your lap, little did I know they were being weaponized. Saved for an opportune moment, to unleash the rage of all times. Attacking a fly with a grenade, clearly there was something amiss in your promise. Maybe it had to do with the omission of the word if.
I love you if you do not confront my insecurities; I love you if you do not challenge my ego; I love you if you constantly show me the reflection of my own masks in your eyes. Is that what you meant to write?
Blame me, blame a community, blame the style of relationship. Blame anything except your own wounded pride.
For the sake of the next one, please don’t forget the if.