Saturday, January 4, 2014

no fiction here

you really couldn't write fiction like this.  yesterday, this morning, we were diving deeper and deeper.  i am finally letting go in ways i never have in relationships.  giving myself in ways i didn't even know i could.  l.e.t.t.i.n.g.  trusting.  practicing faith and devotion.

and so OF COURSE this evening, the call comes.  "i'm so filled with fear that i'm going to hurt you.  so fearful of hurting and abandoning you.  that...i think i have to do that".  uh....ok.  head out on foot, making the rounds.  (how do i have rounds after only 3 months? already this town fits like a glove).  between boca and the bull, i cross paths with another pacer.  young, cute.  we cross again and i glance over, majorly in need of distraction.  he slows down enough to ask if i'd like to play a game of pool at Sticks, which we are currently crossing in front of.  assuring i am terrible, we go for it--he buys me a beer--we play, and chat.  he is a navy lawyer on leave for a couple of weeks.  i am a massage student musician.  he coaches me on my pool game, buys me another beer, and promises to show up at the vine for my gig on friday.

meanwhile, i'm texting  "meet me on the corner of main and university in 30 min".  reply comes "i'm a mess right now"  me, back "i know"  reply comes:  "do you still want to meet"  me "yeah sure"  reply comes "time and place"  and we set it.  i trot up to the atlantic where there's a bunch of kick-ass girl bands playing and all my friends.  have i mentioned.  I.love.this.town.  hang out, dance, listen, chat.  at some point cross the street and yes, he's sitting there, on the street corner, meditating w/shoes off.


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