Something wonderful happened the instant I shut down my dating profiles. Gone were the twitches to check email. Gone was the guilt in my delay, my sloppy responses. And gone was the worry I was missing out.
For years now I have operated under the assumption that if I said Yes to everyone I might be surprised. Truth was I was mostly disappointed.
I feel lighter, more focused, more energized. I’m cautiously exploring what it means to let someone get to know me while folding in this life as Hy. I also feel the extra energy in my mothering and my work.
Peyton’s colors glow brighter somehow; my baby’s voice like bubblegum and sunshine. I feel more, hear more, am more.
Had I known shutting off that faucet of illicit want and depravity could bring me this level of calm I’d have done it long ago, but perhaps I wasn’t ready. Perhaps I had to wait for a million other things to line up to feel like pulling the shades on those windows (shutting the doors?).
When I think back over the many years of my life (for there are many) I am reminded of other moments like this where I feel like my life is beautiful. The first time I ever rode a horse. The smell, that rich mix of hay, dirt, and live animal; his warmth beneath my hand and between my legs; the muffled sound of hooves on dirt and a breathy whicker.
When I was accepted to a prestigious university 1200 miles from home. I packed my little car with all my things and struck out on my own and never looked back. I sorted out the bureaucracy of the school itself and life as a young woman all while taking 12 to 17 hours worth of classes a semester. I hobbled through the finish line, but I did it.
I remember the first time I ever fell in love. It was such a revelation; I felt like I suddenly understood all of humanity. Why wars had been started over a love, why heartbreak could drag a lonely lover down with the fallen. What a miraculous thing, love. Does anything in our lifetimes even compare?
Again when I completed my graduate program with a 4.0. Never before had I been so ravenous with my schoolwork. The words I consumed melded to my bones; I am them now, they are me. How lucky am I to be born in a time when a woman is allowed to achieve and grow and become an expert.
I discovered my body and its pleasures at a time when my life was torn apart. Alone, nearly penniless, and wounded from a lonely marriage I found solace in the space between me and others, a cock the key to my emotional freedom. I played in the sparkling pools of orgasm and unreality for many months like a toddler and accidentally realized my own power in my life.
My writing and this blog has outshone so many other relationships in my life. It has survived The Neighbor and even other real life friendships. It is a constant, wondrous, evolving thing. I suppose just like its creator. The friendships I’ve forged I will have till the end of my days, I have no doubt. Who knew that my creative outlet and need to expose myself could harvest such a boon of love.
But by far the most outstanding memory I have of my life — which is a universe of emotion compared to even the simple joyful moon I am experiencing today — is the day Peyton was born. The day I pushed a small body out of mine and held that little blinking face to my breast. The wash of feeling that poured through me a cosmic binding to my helpless babe.
And every day since feeling the bond between us, knowing I am the protector, the mentor, the safe place. There is no highlight greater in my life than that.
I’m plugging back in, I can feel it. I want to be back here with you, Internet Boyfriend, and I want to return to me. Hello. Can you feel the hug??