2 hot chiks

Flood Report, Part 2

2008-06-30T12:22:00.013-05:00

I've been pre-occupied lately. Last week a group of us did some fund-raising and came up with over $4,200 for the four people we work with who lost their homes in the flood. My company is doing nothing. In fact, during the flooding, we got an email that literally said, "Buck up and try to focus on your work."

People here are very grateful that there was no loss of life during the floods. It was the victims of Katrina paid our tuition for the lessons required to survive so well. We learned from their experience. We learned from their unimaginable losses.

Our communities organized and banded together. Major businesses (other than my souless company) shut down and sent their people home or out to help where help was needed. We had mandatory evacuations. We set up huge animal shelters so no one refused to leave home because they couldn't abandon their pets.

When I look around my town, I see massive damage in so many treasured places, however, I'm very aware that it could have been so much worse.

On the other hand, there have been huge losses that the rest of the world doesn't really know about ... or at least doesn't appreciate. Whole towns are gone forever. Most of them will never be rebuilt. These are little towns where some families have lived for generations.

In these towns, when a person walks into the local diner, everyone knows their name. Seventy-five per cent of the town shows up for the high school football games. They have a Casey's and a Hardees somewhere along Main Street, and that's where most of the high school kids hang out. Seriously, there are still towns like that. But, because of the devastating flooding, some of these multi-generational communities have been completely destroyed. They are gone forever. A few folks might rebuild near one another, but most will scatter to larger nearby towns and cities.

The country mourned Katrina's destruction of the historical landmarks and culture of New Orleans and other parts of the coasts of Louisiana and Mississippi. And, of course, we mourned, and still mourn the terrible human losses. However, I hope some folks take the time to empathize with these little midwestern towns. They might not be important to thousands and thousands of people around the world, but their passing deserves recognition. I'm not from a small town, but my heart goes out to the people who loved and lost all that was ever home.

There is so much work to do to recover from these floods. FEMA has been here to help. The president stopped by for a few hours last week. (I suppose it was a good thing to do, but he annoyed me when his motorcade got in my way and made me late for lunch).

Hey, I wonder if any celebrities are going to show up to help.

A Shoe for Every Occassion

2008-06-20T10:11:00.004-05:00

These are what all the best-dressed gals are wearing in Iowa this week.

500 Year Flood

2008-06-15T17:41:00.023-05:00

This is the trail that I normally take for my morning walk. It's 2 blocks from my house.

This street is 4 blocks away. The animal shelter is at the end.

A street five blocks away ...

They say a flood like this only happens once every 500 years.

Things will never be the same. 18 buildings at the University of Iowa have been flooded, including the main library, student union and the art building; homes and businesses are ruined; and thousands of people are indefinitely displaced.

One of my best friends/co-workers had to evacuate his 2nd floor apartment last Thursday. The water reached his level yesterday. He's safely staying with family 2 hours away. However, he can't get to work and our company won't pay him for the time he's away. It will be a week or two before he can return. When I talked to him today, he said that he'll come back for his salvaged belongings, but he's not returning to Iowa City.

The main highway between Iowa City and Cedar Rapids has been closed for 3 days and may be closed for another 4 days. The two cities are closely connected in many ways. Many of my friends and co-workers live there. Currently, the recommended detour to Cedar Rapids is through Des Moines. That's a 281 mile trip one way. Normally, it's a quick 25 mile drive.

Iowa City has been fortunate compared to Cedar Rapids. The damage hasn’t been as severe and we didn’t lose water or power. Also, because our river is controlled by a reservoir system, we had more time to prepare.

Like thousands of other volunteers, I spent many hours sand-bagging the last couple days. Our efforts made a difference as many properties were spared damage. Today, we're feeling relieved as we learned that the river has crested.

Now, the hard work begins for so many people. Clean-up, repair, and recovery. I'll pitch in and do everything I can, but for me, it's a choice not a requirement because I haven't been directly affected.

Once again, I've been spared personal loss. Two years ago, a tornado struck one block from my house taking several homes and businesses. This year, the flood water came within two blocks of me.

I'm a very lucky girl.

There's No Place Like Home

2008-06-10T11:31:00.023-05:00

Iowa is a mess. First, tornadoes, then flooding.

One of my coworkers has a relative in an effected area. They lost their barn and silo in a tornado. Then, the father was in a terrible work related accident. Last night their house was flooded and the flooding caused an electrical fire. After surviving a tornado and a near fatal accident, this man and woman, and their three small children, stood in a field up to their knees in mud and watched their home go up in flames. This family, and so many others, are in my prayers.

Parts of my city are flooding but so far we've been spared the damage many of our neighboring towns are suffering. An EF5 tornado, 1 mile wide, leveled the town of Parkersburg. Yesterday, Mason City lost 3 of their 4 bridges. More rain is expected in the coming days.

I live 3 blocks from the Iowa River; however, my home sits on a bit of a hill. There was a bad flood here about 15 years ago but according to my neighbors, the water didn't come anywhere near our houses. Right now, I feel fairly safe. If I don't later on, I have many friends with comfy, vacant couches.

We have one non-flooded park left in the city. After work last night, the Man invited me to join him for a picnic in a gazebo at the park (because that's what people who are "just friends" do ... a bit confusing, but that's another story). It was raining lightly, but nothing like the terrible storms we've had the last several weeks. As we were leaving the park, the setting sun broke through the clouds and created one of the biggest, brightest rainbows I've ever seen. It reminded me that even the worst of times don’t last forever.

Today is a sunny, breezy 75 degrees

... and I'm counting my blessings.

Fabulous

2008-05-21T08:15:00.005-05:00

She is so proud of herself!

My favorite part of spring is when the bright red California Poppies bloom. This year is going to be the best ever. My garden has over 4 dozen buds ready to burst. The first opened a couple days ago. She's fabulous, and she knows it!

Every so often, I feel that fabulous. I wish I could bottle that feeling and open it up whenever I need it.

44 Years

2008-05-20T17:29:00.004-05:00

Despite a pouty beginning, I ended up having a wonderful day yesterday. I should know better than to feel sorry for myself. I have too much love in my life to justify such silliness. My friends ended up making the day wonderful. They got me tipsy and took me out. Lots of other people sent me wishes for happiness. The man also called twice to make me laugh like crazy.

My favorite gifts are the glazed flower pots above … a gift from the man. It’s remarkably thoughtful and generous for a guy who dumped me 2 weeks ago.

Birthday

2008-05-19T12:11:00.000-05:00

Today is my birthday.
I’m feeling sorry for myself. It’s kinda pitiful.

I have everything in the world to be happy about. I’m healthy. I have a home and a decent job. I have many fantastic friends. And, I generally think I’m a pretty cool person.

I’m still sad that I lost something important to me. I really valued my relationship with the man. It’s changed and the friendship we’re trying to create feels uncertain. I don’t blame myself, but the loss hurts. It’s as simple as that.

Other men are trying to get my attention. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve felt this way before about a couple other men. I know it will pass with time; I know nearly everyone else in the world has been in this same place, but my heart is slow to heal. It sucks.

I know I’ll be ok. I just wish I knew when.

My Heart For a Song

2008-05-15T08:16:00.003-05:00

My favorite birthday present was a song. He called, then called back to my voicemail. The tiny bit of nervousness in his voice at the beginning made it all the sweeter. He pushed through and sang the words strong and true …
Let’s Get it On
I smiled over and over again as I listened to him sing to me a dozen times that day.

He still has a place in my heart. He resides there, or more accurately, the things I’ve collected of him are carefully stored there. I keep cherished bits of him that he’s shared, both on purpose and accidentally; memories of laughter and tenderness, healing words that still soothe, and waves of tears for lost dreams.

Sometimes I still ache, but mostly I feel blessed for loving such a man.

Life is Strange

2008-05-14T21:03:00.003-05:00

This is the weirdest break-up of my life. We talk every day or two just like we did before. He still calls me by the same silly pet name, I still giggle, and we still spend an hour laughing like idiots about stupid crap. Once in a while we talk about the break-up. He doesn’t budge but still tries to make it all better.

We’re spending Saturday afternoon together at his house. I guess we’re supposed to hang out as “just friends”. He knows I don’t think of him that way. The whole thing is so ridiculous that it amuses me.

If I was smart, I’d walk away. However, I’ve never been particularly smart about love … daring, but not smart. I don’t have an agenda. I don’t have a plan to change him or make him give me what I want. I can accept him exactly as he is. Isn’t that part of loving someone? Besides, I’m also curious as hell.

In the mean time, another guy is sniffing around. It’s like a garage sale. There are always one or two people who show up at 7am even when the sale doesn’t start until eight. He’s one of those people. He wants to be the first one to check out my stuff. I told him that I’m not open for business. He’s a nice enough guy, but my heart isn’t ready.

Bargaining

2008-05-10T20:10:00.027-05:00

By the time we get to this age, we all carry a bit of baggage, some more than others. We can help one another along, but mostly it's stuff we have to sort out on our own. It's hard work that some people never seem able to do. And, sometimes the people that seem the most well-put-together have the biggest parcels to handle. Other times those who have the most to offer have months or years of sorting to do before they have anything worth giving.

I’ve worked long and hard to sort through my crap, much of that work right here on this blog. Right or wrong, I hid myself away until I had my baggage whittled down into a manageable carry-on. It took a couple years and a few detours to really get my shit together. Unfortunately, it seems as if my guy-guy is one of those people with a lot to offer but nothing to give right now. It’s not my fault. It’s not really his fault either. It’s just the way life works.

I wish he’d say he has a plan to work it all out. He could ask me to hang in there for a while. I wouldn’t throw myself on my sword, but I’d help push the luggage cart if he said we were worth working for. Instead, he just gives me explanations of his powerlessness. Then, he distracts me by making me laugh. It makes him feel better because, even though he doesn’t say so, he can’t stand knowing he hurt me.

He calls because he likes my company. I answer because I hope he’ll say what I want him to say. If I don't hear something positive soon, it's going to get old fast. In fact, I think I might not feel like talking tonight.

Good Things

2008-05-07T07:43:00.010-05:00

I got to work yesterday to find flowers sitting in front of my monitor. They were from a co-worker. He didn’t know about the break-up. He just said I seemed blue Monday and he wanted to cheer me up.

And remember the annoying jerk that I wanted to beat with his own arm a couple weeks ago? He and I have been getting along extremely well. In fact, he gave me a $50 gift card and the afternoon off for a late margarita lunch with my girlfriend.

Possible good news ... things might not be over with the man. Time will tell.
I don’t completely understand men, but I have hope for them
… ONE man in particular.

It Sucks

2008-05-06T00:12:00.002-05:00

He wants to redefine our relationship => just be friends.

It sucks to be me today.

Guy-Guys

2008-04-24T21:36:00.006-05:00

We all think our guy is different and better than other guys. Of course mine is too. He’s a sexy loveable goofball dork. His odd, sometimes dry sense of humor is becoming predictable, but I still laugh like crazy. His quirks are less confusing as I get to know him. One of the things I like about him is his guy-ness … even the guy stuff that I don’t understand.

I like guy-guys. They are the men who think like guys, act like guys and like guy things. They can’t watch TV unless the remote control is in their hand. They play loud poker with their buddies, drink crappy beer, and count the weeks until football season starts. Guy-guys think Animal House, Caddy Shack and National Lampoon's Vacation are cinematic masterpieces. When they work on the car and cut themselves, they show it off like it’s some kind of war wound … but if you fuss about it, they insist it’s no big deal. Oh! And, guy-guys are mesmerized by boobies … not just the perfect 19-year old perky ones; they get a glaze-eyed stare from looking at ANY BOOBIES. A little cleavage is like kryptonite. They become completely compliant when near those creamy round curves.

I like guy-guys … the GOOD guy-guys. They are the men that help scrape your windshield when you’re tromping through 8 inches of snow in 4-inch heels. They help their friends move, build a new deck, or get them drunk after being dumped by a girl. The good guys don’t pick a fight, but they won’t back down if something needs to be done. These are the guys who open doors because it’s polite; they don’t think about whether it's PC. Sometimes they joke around about being assholes or jerks, but when you need someone you can count on, they do the right thing. Others might describe them as “... rough around the edges, but has a heart of gold.”

My guy seems to be a good guy-guy. He’s a little ragged on the edges, but not too much. He knows the difference between Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker and a metal tool used to break walnut shells. He also scared me a bit when I noticed Titanic in his DVD collection … even more when he made me watch the crappy 3 hours of trite nonsense. However, he starts my car when it’s cold outside, knows the name of the town where they make his favorite fishing lure, makes sure his friends get home safely when they’ve been drinking, and lends his muscle when someone needs a hand.

I like guy-guys, especially the good ones … … especially the sexy lovable goofball dorky ones.

Nature vs. Nurture

2008-04-23T12:32:00.009-05:00

This is a photo of my gorgeous angel niece. She cleverly decided to wear a pirate patch over one eye because the night light in her room was keeping her awake. She might have given up the light, but she wanted it in case she needed to get up during the night. This seems like a perfect solution.

One might think that my girl is simply creative, however, despite her landlocked condition, I suspect she may have a little bit of pirate in her. After all, if you remember, at one time, I, her favorite aunt, sailed the seven seas as a ruthless pirate. Alongside my sexy pantalooned lover, I greedily plundered, pillaged and ransacked the world over. Perhaps my sassy niece has a bit of the pirate in her as well.

Could it be the way she's been raised? Her respectable, upstanding parents seem to be bring her up right ... so did mine. Hmmm ... Maybe they let her watch MTV.

Nature versus nurture?

Close Enough to Perfect

2008-04-20T22:31:00.012-05:00

It’s been 4 months, 1 week and 4 days since we met. After our 3rd date I told him I didn’t think it would work out. I had my reasons and I didn’t lie. He was cool about it. I had other reasons that I kept to myself. When I think back, I was an idiot.

After a month and a few dates with some other guys, I was still thinking about him. He’d left the door open so I called. He was happy to hear from me and said he missed me. I was surprised how much the sound of his voice made me miss him too. We see each other a couple times a week now.

About a month ago he started calling every day. If it were anyone else, I’d probably find such a thing too clingy. There are few people I want to talk to on the phone every day, and no one I want to talk to for more than a few minutes. It’s weird how an hour or two can disappear when we’re laughing about stupid crap.

He has a romantic heart but he isn’t very romantic with me. I’m learning to notice the little things instead. Yesterday, my favorite salad dressing showed up in his refrigerator. A few weeks ago, an anonymous person paid the vet bill when my cat got sick and died. He changed my name in his cell phone to the silly pet name that he calls me when we’re alone together. Romance … I can live without pretty words and promises when his kisses are genuine.

He says he has "issues" and makes jokes about it. I have issues too. Things aren’t perfect. Is anything? Even my perfect red shoes hurt my feet after I’ve worn them a few hours. His number one goal is to not mess things up with me. With all the other good stuff between us, that’s close enough to perfect.

3 Days

2008-04-15T20:32:00.014-05:00

The path stretched forever, or so it seemed. Our rented bicycles rolled along, him leading, then me, at ease in each another’s company.

He calls me Princess or Beautiful. I like the way the words sound in his voice.

We seemed more friends than lovers. He was too young, too far away, too different. But I fell when his arms held me close enough to know his heartbeat, until breathless words affirmed a darker longing.

Time meant little until goodbye … a bittersweet kiss, the sweetest I’ve known.

We only belonged to each other for a while,
A precious instant.

Love Hurts

2008-04-13T14:36:00.006-05:00

I went to church this morning. Even though I have an odd sort of faith that I can’t quite put into words, I absolutely LOVE going to church. Being around other sinners makes me feel comfortable; sitting amongst a group of kind-hearted people makes me feel calm and peaceful; the patterns and rituals settle my soul.

One of the messages I’m often reminded of at church is to keep a generous and open heart even when I’m hurt or afraid. The world has enough pain and fear. I don’t need to add to it. This morning, while I was concentrating on how to be more loving, I thought about a man I work with. He aggravates the hell out of me. His rude, insulting interactions with me always test my limits. About 5 o’clock Friday afternoon, I seriously wanted to rip off his arm and beat him with it. That probably wouldn’t be a very Christian response.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, I won’t rip his arm off. I promise.

I prefer to love people who love me back. All of us do, don't we? However, sometimes there are sweet, unexpected rewards when I’m kind, understanding and generous with a difficult person. At the very least, I feel powerful. I don’t let them control me. I remain true to myself ... the master of my emotions. Even better, sometimes they stop acting like a jackass. That hardly ever happens when I'm defensive and hateful.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, I’m going to love the little prick til it hurts.

Hope

2008-04-09T21:07:00.005-05:00

Being in a REAL relationship feels awkward. It’s like trying to find my way along a forgotten path. Some of the landmarks look familiar, but I’m unsure of my footing and afraid I’ll lose my way. He seems to share the same feeling, maybe even more than I. We walk at HIS pace. Very slow. We don’t take many chances.

I’m learning to trust a little bit. He’s earning that trust. I’ve almost stopped wondering if he will disappear without warning. His presence is becoming familiar and reliable, and his voice eases my wandering fears. I’m pretty sure he has the same fears, but he won’t say so. I won’t ask either. Instead, I make sure he knows that I’m still going to be here tomorrow.

Sometimes when I look at him I’m surprised by how beautiful he is. He doesn’t seem to know he’s beautiful. That’s an even bigger surprise. Other times I notice the pain he’s trying so hard to overcome. It’s almost hard to imagine that this powerful, towering man could ever be broken.

I have more courage than he does so I let him take the lead. He needs to be in charge and I don’t. There’s a certain vulnerability to this arrangement, but the imbalance is subtle so it’s okay for now. I dearly want to keep walking along this path with him. But, it’s not for me to decide or control. I just have to HOPE.

Dating Lessons

2008-04-02T08:19:00.005-05:00

These are a few things I’ve learned (or re-learned) through my dating experiences this year.

It’s okay to cut my losses and move on.

If something sounds too good to be true, it is.

Taking things slow is good. You don't often hear people say, "The relationship probably would have lasted if only we had jumped in the sack right away."

I don’t have to feel like a loser when someone doesn’t like me.

I don’t have to feel guilty for not liking someone back.

When a guy “takes it like a man”, he’s more attractive.

Sex appeal is only 5% physical.

A little cologne is nice. A lot will ruin an otherwise pleasant evening. I prefer nothing at all.

The guy who borrowed his Mom’s minivan to take me out probably isn’t the right guy for me.

The guy who lit up a joint in the middle of the date probably isn’t the right guy for me either.

Even at my age, some guys get pissy if a girl doesn’t sleep with them on the first date.

Believe it or not, most guys aren’t in a big hurry to jump in bed (Damnit! … teehee)

I have good instincts about people. I shouldn’t ignore that.

As adorable as they are, 20-somethings are too young for me.

A lot of people who use dating sites also ride Harleys and like Nascar.

There are a lot of lonely people in the world, but it’s not my job to save them … not even ONE.

They say that opposites attract, but I’m more of a birds-of-a-feather kind of person.

If a guy gets to be 40 or so and he’s never had a significant relationship, there’s probably a reason.

I’m capable of acting like a cold-hearted bitch.

We are all just trying to be happy. Some people will settle for feeling a little less unhappy.

Return to the Land of Blog

2008-03-28T21:55:00.006-05:00

It’s been over a year since I’ve been an active participant in the Blogosphere. Every so often, when I miss my friends here, I wander through and read a few posts so I feel a bit connected. It’s like watching a party by peeping through the windows. I miss the companionship and fun.

I didn’t leave because something bad happened. I just sort of ran out of stuff to say. In the past, I often used this place to sort things out and I ran out of messes to sort ... at the time, anyway.

This year has included lots and lots of adventures in love and romance. I suppose that’s my thing … my path in life. Instead of reflecting and writing about such things, I dove headlong into the world and experienced more of life than I have for quite a while.
Data collection.
Investigative research.
Participant observation.
Going out and getting what I want instead of just talking/writing about it.

During the last 9 months, I’ve dated 24 different men. I tried to date before but I must not have been ready because it didn’t work. This time, it was really easy. I just decided to date and bunches of people asked me out. For the most part, it’s been fun. I’ve met some very interesting people and I’ve learned a lot.

The men have ranged between 24 and 57. They’ve been businessmen, construction workers, office workers, teachers, artists, students, medical techs, and one was a professional football player. Some were rich and some were struggling like me. Their reasons for wanting to spend time with me varied. They were lonely, or horny, or bored, or wanted an adult partner/friend. The latter group were the ones I found attractive. It was also rewarding because I learned about people, had new experiences, and made some new friends. In fact one of the guys that didn't work out became a very good friend ... not just a buddy-friend; he's the kind of friend I love and will have in my heart forever.

Although I had a couple bad dates, I liked most of the people I went out with. I saw a number of them several times. However, as I wrote in my Red Shoe post, one can’t compromise about relationships (or shoes). The guy for me has to meet my standards, (and I have to meet HIS too). He has to fit ME exactly right. He doesn’t have to be perfect; he just has to be perfectly suited for me.

Number 19 seems to be a keeper. We’ve been seeing each other since December, first very casually, but the last couple months exclusively. He has a good heart, a smart brain and a quick funny bone. Best of all, so far the only surprises are the nice ones.

Wise Words

2007-10-26T23:16:00.000-05:00

The only man worth crying over would never make you cry.

Don't Lower Your Standards

2007-09-08T13:27:00.000-05:00

Two years ago, I decided I really wanted red shoes. They are harder to find than you think. Most of them are patent leather or childish looking. I wanted something sexy and sophisticated.

I’d like to say that I found a great pair in the first store I looked in, but no such luck. Instead, I looked for red shoes in lots and lots of stores. I also looked at several online sites, but nothing quite suited me. Of course, a few came very close, however, I just couldn’t lower my standards. Knowing how much I wanted them, if I compromised my criteria, I’d be unhappy once I brought them home.

You’ll be happy to know that my diligent efforts and long wait have been rewarded. I found exactly the perfect pair of red shoes. When I saw them in the store, I let out a little sound of joy. I couldn’t wait to try them on, and when I did, I was elated. They fit me exactly right. Just to make sure, I strolled around the store for about 15 minutes before buying them. They are perfect for me.

I brought my gorgeous new red shoes home and put them in their own special shoe cubby in my closet. Sometimes, I just put them on and walk around the house for fun. As I walk the runway between my bedroom and the kitchen, I make my dogs tell me what they think. Of course, having great style themselves, they agree that my red shoes are absolutely spectacular and I wear them well.

Buying the perfect shoes is pretty much the same as finding the right guy. Sometimes you find the perfect man the first time out, and sometimes you have to shop for a very long time and try dozens and dozens on for size. However, it’s important not to lower your standards, because once you get him home, it’s a hard to take a ill-fitting dude back. In fact, it’s much easier to return a pair of shoes that pinch your toes than a guy that get’s on your last nerve.

True Love Stories

2007-05-21T02:08:00.000-05:00

I.
It had been two years since I'd been forced.
Two years since I’d let anyone close to me.
He seemed to understand.
He seemed to care.
Especially when we fucked
and he told me that he loved me.

But when I found out that he'd lied,
That he'd lied about everything,
That he'd been married all along,
I felt betrayed
Again.

I found his wife and called her
To say I was sorry.
She said she was sorry too.
Later, she left him.
I was glad she left before he got sick,
Before his lies made her sick too.

II.
Lies can be a tricky thing. You have to plan ahead, prepare for contingencies, and commit. He should have picked a different lie.

The ex-girlfriend, a baby, and a sense of responsibility story was ill-conceived. It probably seemed to be the perfect way out. He could keep his status as a good guy and dump me without an ugly rejection scene. Too bad he couldn't pull it off. He was a crappy liar. He also changed his mind and wanted to come back. That's not the kind of lie you can undo.

I deserved something believable. He could have said he had a gambling problem or he was tired of the long-distance thing. Maybe it would have hurt less if he had told me the truth. Yes, the truth.

The Truth: he didn’t want me anymore. Hell, I figured it out anyway.

III.
There was nothing extraordinary about him
Except the way he loved me.
He did it well,
Very well.
Not how I wanted, but how I needed.
And I adored him for it.

He said he loved everything,
Touching my soft belly
as much as my soft curls,
Smiling at my awkward shyness
as much as my graceful wit,
Listening to my self-involved passions
as much as my hours of silence.
He loved being with me,
Just me.

But it wasn't long before something changed.
Bad timing?
Too many flaws?
A twisted game?
I didn't understand, at least not then.
He said he loved me too much.
Then, he pushed me away.

I Hate Myself In Your Eyes

2007-05-09T07:43:00.000-05:00

(This is a re-posting from January 2006. I’ve been trying to write something funny and cute, but I think I’m using all my funny-cuteness trying to survive in the non-blog world.)

Even though I knew it was bound to end badly, a little part of me was flattered and curious. I should have listened to my conscience, but when I heard her story and felt her longing, it broke my heart to think of disappointing her. Against my better judgment, I heard myself cheerfully say, "Yes, I’d love to". The thin lilt in my voice might have seemed transparent to anyone who wasn’t in pain.

She was a victim of a long-term relationship that ended in betrayal. Tossed to the curb, scratching and clawing with a willingness to do anything to be welcomed back home. When she found me, she pretended to be whole. I pretended to believe her as I watched her crawl across the floor in a desperate effort to collect the scattered bits of herself. I should have helped her, but I lacked the courage. I told myself I had something in my eye.

After four dates, she told me that she loved me. I didn’t know what to say, but as I studied her face I saw things that repulsed me. The most honest response I could muster was a smile of genuine pity. I drew her close to me so I didn’t have to see her eyes any more. I hated that her abject loneliness made her say such things when I never gave her anything worth loving.

She accepted scraps from me, all the while desperately dancing around my feet begging for more. I listened to her anguish and accepted her gifts and affection, more from my own guilt than any real interest. The longer it went on, the worse I felt. I became cold and hard toward her vulnerability, a stranger to myself. My emotional withdrawal only increased her efforts to please me.

I was relieved when she said she just wanted to be friends. A stone was lifted and I felt free for the first time in what seemed like forever. In that moment of farewell, she became lovely and beautiful for the first time. She no longer reflected the frail and destitute parts of myself that I despise

Temptation

2007-04-28T12:15:00.000-05:00

There’s a delicious looking cake in the window of the bakery. It's been teasing me for months with its remarkably enticing richness. In fact, I often find my eyes lingering a little too long each time I pass by. And when I do, I almost always notice something new about it, something that makes my mouth water, something that fills me with desire.

However, even if this tantalizing decadence tastes as good as it looks, such seductive sweetness can’t possibly be good for me. Such things are for the young and the foolish. I’ve been both, having indulged my appetite with a few such guilty pleasures before. Likewise, those experiences taught me that no matter how slowly I savor it, my satisfaction will be brief. Ultimately, I’ll be left with an empty carton and regret.

Yet, the more I resist, the more it seeks me out. When it returns my gaze, it seems to want to delight me more than anyone else. When it stands close enough to touch, when it wraps it’s arms around me, when it whispers temptations in my ear … my thoughts blur, my skin warms, and I can barely hold myself steady.

Oh, how I long to surrender.