Maybe Be Alright / Chapped / Don't Ever Let me Go in Background Noise

Written 12/31/10-1/1/11 William Fitzsimmons came on the iPod today

Maybe be Alright 12/31/10

I prayed tonight.

Let’s be clear, I am an agnostic. To me that means that I believe in God, I just don’t know his intentions. True atheists are those bookish people who have never hung their ass out or been shot at. It is a luxury modern life has provided. There are no atheists in foxholes. Damn few in the cockpits of tactical jets.

I prayed, and I felt God answer. That hasn’t happened a lot in my lifetime. Arguably I am my own God and the answers and attitude are all me. I know better. I can’t explain it to my atheist friends. You just get to a point where you realize this isn’t all an accident and everything can’t be explained through science. Magic does exist, and so does God.

I asked for guidance. He told me go ahead and do what you are going to do. You’ll do it anyway. It doesn’t matter what I say.

I asked him to at least nudge me in the right direction. He was disinterested. You already know the right answer. But you are going to do what you are going to do.

I am going out tonight. To meet up with friends. I will kiss a girl. We have already agreed.

I have so many problems with this. Her photo is up on my left monitor as I write. I am again falling for someone I can’t have. At least not now.

It didn’t stop me from changing the sheets and cleaning the kitchen.

In an hour I will call the taxi.

Go to Seadogs.

Have mercy on my soul because I know where this is going.

And my heart finds peace tonight
And my soul finds comfort there
In the knowledge that you’ll someday
Maybe be alright

Chapped 1/1/11

My lips are chapped. From kissing.

Yes. We said it.

I held her, I felt her skin. We stood in the parking lot and pulled at each other’s clothing. I felt her back. Her oh so perfect back. I felt her breasts. Those so perfect breasts. Her hands crawled all over my chest and abs. I pulled her close. She moaned. We promised. We promised to make this right.

I saw her to her car. I got in my taxi.

We said it.

We said it.

We said it.

Not a chance I am sleeping tonight.

But I am so, so alive.

Don’t Ever Let Me Go 1/1/11

I stared at the ceiling. Big stupid grin on my face. Worries cast aside for the moment.

At some point I did indeed sleep. And I dreamed of being one with this angel.

I have taken to keeping the blackberry on my bedside table. I was still on my back when I heard it buzz. I was tempted to ignore it.

I didn’t.

She was on her way over to see me. On the way to work.

She didn’t sleep at all.

She is timeless. After a late shift yesterday, hours at the Seadog, where we ignored friends and stared at each other. A sleepless night.

At 7am I have never seen anything more beautiful. We engaged in very heavy petting. X2 once said that every love has its own language. Turns out she is correct. We are wobbling through the early stages of establishing our language.

The feelings are so powerful they threaten to roll me under.

I held her face in my hands and kissed her. She sighed. She trembled. I was afraid she was going to cry. She buried her face in my neck. I worried, because I have been wearing this long sleeve t-shirt for days. I buried my face in her neck and started licking and sucking. Then backed off and we joked how I can’t give her a hicky. Not yet.

Heavy, heavy petting. I know her smell now.

I begged her. Where have you been? Then answered myself. Right in front of me all this time. Our lives are a series of close encounters. Within the US she has been everywhere I have been within a hundred miles and within a couple of years. Maybe God’s ways of making us work for it? To teach us the lesson that we don’t pay close enough attention?

We don’t know how to do this.

I’ve been in love before. But I have never been so profoundly affected by the presence of another human being. Her kindness. Her intelligence. Her caring.

She knows I don’t have a job. She knows I’m probably going to have to short sell the house, my credit wrecked for years. And still she asks me what will make me happy. She thinks I should be a DJ, even though there is no money in it. I ask her what will make her happy. She answers “you.”

She makes me want to be a better man. She makes me want to give back to this world. She brings me such a profound love and peace.

She is physically beautiful. At 46, she has a body that any 20 year old would envy. As physically perfect as any woman I have laid eyes on. In a club crammed with scantily clad twenty-somethings I never took my eyes off her.

I wondered if perhaps I had already passed. But the conflicts we face stare at us. I am still alive, and she is but an angel. A so human angel.

We discussed magic, and luck. And how while both happen, it takes an active effort. Magic and luck do not happen for the passive.

Then she had to go to work.

And I stood on the porch and watched her drive away. Baby bye-byes on both sides.

Hold on.

Don’t ever let me go.

Last updated March 29, 2016