[ Saturday, July 31, 2004 ]
It is Wednesday. I walk through Dave's door weighted with sunflowers and affection. Through his house he has scattered candles. Beside each candle, a slip of paper and a wild flower. He tells me "on each piece of paper I've listed something I love, something that makes this world a better place." I roam through the living room with Dave behind me, his hands on my hips then around me as I stop.
: the spring
: the fall
: wildflowers
: thunderstorms
: the smell of fresh cut grass
: summer tomatoes
: the moon
: your eyes
: your touch
: your kiss
: your love
: the night we met
: you.
I am touched beyond words and I pull his arms around me, kiss the back of his hands. I turn & take his face in my hands. I need to touch him. To know that he is real. That he exists and this is not a scenario I've created in my mind, then decided to live in for a while.
Throughout the evening there are kisses intermingled with spurts of laughter, stories of our fathers, a long moment standing in his kitchen, saying nothing, communicating silently. Dave tells me "it feels as if at some point we were together, in the same the house. We both left. We had things we needed to do. Now, this just feels like we've come home." I know the feeling he's just articulated. His eyes are familiar to me in a way I can neither explain nor describe. And I am just swept up in a feeling of being so blessed.
We hold each other on the couch. I cannot get close enough to him. I want to crush him with my lips, pull him inside me, or find some path and crawl inside his body. I've wanted men inside me before. I've wanted to chew through skin, tendon, bone, digest & expel them in three swift motions, so that there is no tangible evidence. Circumstantial, maybe & perhaps a motive. I'm territorial and protective by nature. And I've wanted to consume men in order to protect some poor girl, the next one, who might not be as strong as I am. But this is different. I have no intentions. Only tenderness & the need to touch him so delicately. I trace his jawline with my fingertip, become lost in the pattern of his five o'clock shadow which reaches up to meet his sideburn, then down to meet his goatee. These are the small, beautiful moments I become lost in--the thirty-five seconds it takes my fingertip to travel northwest from his chin. I want to tell him I could spend years exploring this spot but the words to describe this motion have not come to me yet. Instead I feel tears swell, then spill. He kisses me below each eye, on my cheeks where the lines of my emotion are evident & displayed. I want to explain to him the complete tenderness I feel. I want him to know that my only intention is to nurture his soul, to cradle all that he is, all that he was, all that he will ever be. I want him to know that I am not interested in manipulating him or controlling him or changing him--that I've been seeking a man of substance, a man with something inside him, an internal beauty & resiliency & the ability to recognize what is real & important in this world. I want to tell him so many things. I tell him I've never felt this. And I haven't. Inside me, there is no fear, no wall, no need to self-protect. There is only the need to see & be seen. And the complete swelling of an emotion I have never experienced.
At 3 am, on his couch, in our bed clothes, we eat vanilla ice cream while a muted t.v. displays images in the background. Our words, soft & quiet, sway through the air like hips, bumping gently against the fading candle light. I want to carry this moment with me. I want to tuck it inside my ribcage. I feel like we are on the verge of something much more than everything. I feel it brewing into something "faithful & mad." And I have never been this comfortable with that.
~ Rebecca 11:38 AM [+]
For Dave
true inspiration is hard to come by
the spirit of man is lifted up by the woman he choses to let his soul be offered to
if you share your soul in true unbrittled love
no matter what you chose in life
you will be lifted up to the heavens
for she will put the pedstal there
By 
, at
9:40 PM
