It is passing strange how seemingly minor events in ones life can have such an impact, or conversely, how ones life can have such an impact on such minor events.
I suppose I'm having a crisis of conscience, or perhaps I'm merely mildly intoxicated and feeling introspective.
I just turned 32 years old this year, and while some of you may get a chuckle out of that, this is the first time I've reached that grand age.
And thoughts roll around in my head. No, not just thoughts, feelings and emotions spring out of nowhere from the deep recesses of my skull, at odd, unexpected times, things that I would have assumed I'd left behind when I was 18 years old.
I was reading a short story earlier today, the name and plot is irrelevant, as it was just one line in the entire piece that struck this very odd cord in me, the line read something like, "Geeze baby, why'd you think that?"
Odd, I know, especially taken out of context like that, but it was just the utterance of "Baby" that struck me so profoundly.
That one casual endearance caused me to long for someone in my life, other than the friends and the "drinking buddies" both male and female. It reminded me of all the times I'd used that same word so casually, "Sure Baby, I can run out to the store for ya."
The wealth of emotion that is rapped up in that single word surprised me, as did the accomping sense of longing.
It surprised me in a very strange regard, as I'd expect, given my proclivities, to attach such a thing directly to sex, but it wasn't attached to such transitory pleasures at all.
The images and sensations that flew through me were so calm, without causing the elevated heartbeat, or overactive glands.
Not so much clear memories, but memories of sensations.
The feel of a warm body next to me as I drifted off to sleep, the softness of skin. The pleasant smell of hair.
And the waking things, the banter, the back and forth that only comes from two people who know each other well...yet are still learning from each other.
The laughter that only comes from something said that is so unexpected that it causes you to laugh out loud in surprise and pleasure.
The tender touch out of nowhere, that makes you feel oh so loved.
I'm 32 years old, as I believe I've already stated, and I'm not exactly on the road to success, but I love what I do to pay the bills, and I've a little kitty that loves me, and who helps so much to keep me sane.
I'm content with how I'm living my life overall, I'd like to make more money, but hell, who wouldn't.
I'd like to be able to afford the latest toys and gizmos that are thrust into my face by our marketing agencies, and I'd like to not worry so about how I'm gonna pay my next credit card bill.
But...If the cost of riches is such that I must sacrifice the pleasure of being able to ride my bike when ever I choose, if the cost is so high that I needs must be unhappy to achieve happiness, well, I'll be a 32 year old man who is just "eeking" by.
Even if all others judge me personally by what I own, what I can afford, and especially if any potential mate looks at me, and sees only the torn Levis, the faded T-shirt, and makes the mistake of confusing me with someone of little wit, small mind, and crass personality, well, then that is something I could bemoan, but I don't. I know who I am, and what I am, and, overall, I'm content with that.
Yes, I do occasionally feel the loneliness that only those who needs must crawl into bed by themselves can feel, and yes, I do need that contact, that love that is expressed so much more deeply than the act of sex, that love that only two people who care more for each other than they do for themselves can feel.
On the other hand, maybe I just need to get laid.
Firey Red.
I suppose I'm having a crisis of conscience, or perhaps I'm merely mildly intoxicated and feeling introspective.
I just turned 32 years old this year, and while some of you may get a chuckle out of that, this is the first time I've reached that grand age.
And thoughts roll around in my head. No, not just thoughts, feelings and emotions spring out of nowhere from the deep recesses of my skull, at odd, unexpected times, things that I would have assumed I'd left behind when I was 18 years old.
I was reading a short story earlier today, the name and plot is irrelevant, as it was just one line in the entire piece that struck this very odd cord in me, the line read something like, "Geeze baby, why'd you think that?"
Odd, I know, especially taken out of context like that, but it was just the utterance of "Baby" that struck me so profoundly.
That one casual endearance caused me to long for someone in my life, other than the friends and the "drinking buddies" both male and female. It reminded me of all the times I'd used that same word so casually, "Sure Baby, I can run out to the store for ya."
The wealth of emotion that is rapped up in that single word surprised me, as did the accomping sense of longing.
It surprised me in a very strange regard, as I'd expect, given my proclivities, to attach such a thing directly to sex, but it wasn't attached to such transitory pleasures at all.
The images and sensations that flew through me were so calm, without causing the elevated heartbeat, or overactive glands.
Not so much clear memories, but memories of sensations.
The feel of a warm body next to me as I drifted off to sleep, the softness of skin. The pleasant smell of hair.
And the waking things, the banter, the back and forth that only comes from two people who know each other well...yet are still learning from each other.
The laughter that only comes from something said that is so unexpected that it causes you to laugh out loud in surprise and pleasure.
The tender touch out of nowhere, that makes you feel oh so loved.
I'm 32 years old, as I believe I've already stated, and I'm not exactly on the road to success, but I love what I do to pay the bills, and I've a little kitty that loves me, and who helps so much to keep me sane.
I'm content with how I'm living my life overall, I'd like to make more money, but hell, who wouldn't.
I'd like to be able to afford the latest toys and gizmos that are thrust into my face by our marketing agencies, and I'd like to not worry so about how I'm gonna pay my next credit card bill.
But...If the cost of riches is such that I must sacrifice the pleasure of being able to ride my bike when ever I choose, if the cost is so high that I needs must be unhappy to achieve happiness, well, I'll be a 32 year old man who is just "eeking" by.
Even if all others judge me personally by what I own, what I can afford, and especially if any potential mate looks at me, and sees only the torn Levis, the faded T-shirt, and makes the mistake of confusing me with someone of little wit, small mind, and crass personality, well, then that is something I could bemoan, but I don't. I know who I am, and what I am, and, overall, I'm content with that.
Yes, I do occasionally feel the loneliness that only those who needs must crawl into bed by themselves can feel, and yes, I do need that contact, that love that is expressed so much more deeply than the act of sex, that love that only two people who care more for each other than they do for themselves can feel.
On the other hand, maybe I just need to get laid.
Firey Red.
