…be careful what you ask for…

Journal entry…
December, 2004
“She paged down through the poem…
CAROL!… and as she read each line, it dawned on her like a
velvet sledgehammer… It just built and built…
no wishywashy here…  here’s a man of action…and….
oh shit…I have a tiger by the tail.
Holy shit…. to be the love of my life?  … Be Mine…?
Her heart beat itself out of it’s chambers, and flew round the room.
Oh my God, oh my God…she paced, she emphatically pulled her
hair back, she swore…
She wanted to call someone, anyone close, closest, must share,
must pour out, must have support…
But then she stopped.
Whoa girlie, just slow down here, just stop for a minute…
This is big.  This is something entirely different.  Not high school,
not movie romance…
This is the most devistating man she had ever met, coming back
after 15, no 18 years, and basically proposing to her.
Too much, must absorb, must breath, must take time here.
She decided to put the lid on, turn down the heat, let it
percolate a while.
Let it sink in, let this mortal mind wrap around this here thing…
Hours passed before she slept.  Waves crashed on shores of sanity,
dreams washed over her, past footage reviewing itself,
replay, replay… then….now…..then……now….
Him then….him now….. melding, morphing…pulling itself through
a wormhole, to pop up into Now.
On the phone, she could hear the change in his voice.  Softer,
a little weary, not so testosterone based, so deep and insistent,
the ego had polished up it’s edges a bit.
His daughter interrupted, and it pleased her to no end to hear him
pattering with her in Portuguese, hear the patience, the tenderness,
the Realness that he shared with her…
He talked freely with her in spite of the fact that she was there.
He’s so comfortable with his animal…
“I’m a millenium father… my daughter will know about things…
Know how to handle herself in situations, know how to give pleasure
and not endanger herself…”
“She’s very jealous”, he told her… “All little girls are having sex
with their fathers…Oh I don’t mean literally, but in their mind…”
He was right, I guess.  She thought of her father, and how being
with him had made her feel as a child.
He was safe, comfortable, warm, unthreatened and unthreatening.
And Physical… they’d wrestle and tickle and horse around, and she
loved it…when she heard of other girls having creepy feelings
with their dad, she couldn’t even relate… he was never like that.
“And I always wanted to win over Mom,”  she thought to herself….
I thought I was better for him…….Mom was mean, she didn’t
understand him and me…”   All her life, she realized, all her life she’d
had some competition for the daddy going on, in one place or another.
But it was hard for her to think of her daddy as a sex object… it just
wasn’t there at all… she wanted his focus, his attention, but not that…
Maybe that was why short men never did it for her.  Or maybe
it was because the more ineffectual her daddy became under the
duress of years, the more she fixed on tallness in a man.
“Oh give me a big yummy alpha… make him smarter and stronger,
please dear God I can’t do to him what my mother did to daddy..”
And now… Alcir is here.  Mr Alpha Man big Alcir…
He is back and is ready …
He is asking me to come and live with him in Rio.
Oh, I need to write it every once in a while, because my poor brain
is having a contortionist’s challenge, wrapping around this one…
I’m rushing toward it, and
I’m terrified.
I’m hiding while …. I can’t wait.”

…a name by anyother…

By now, perhaps you’re getting a sense of that which had accosted me.
I believe most adjectives would fall short, and my heart was set adrift
with both nostalgic yearnings and terrified anticipation.

I fondled the photo he’d sent me. I found scraps of memories in my
journals…
This one still is particularly poignant, from when he wrote out his
full name in his bewitching script… he did it for Piney, but I took
ownership immediately.

I stared at his picture now.  I saw the same man, a different man,
a different world, with twenty years and 14,000 miles between us.
Was this even possible… was I crazy…?

 

 

 

…the poem…

After our notes back and forth, I of course sent him my number, and
very soon he called.  I have no remembrance of what we talked of,
just that it was stoney, heady, transporting.

The next day I received this email:

“I will published tonight kisses

Alcir

……………………………

Carol  !


Hear your voice

Made me feel capable of

Fooling the time

Flying around in a dream

Returning to days when life was truthful

And love dare to defy

All mediocrity and nothingness.

That surrounds and kill

The beauty that we can create

When we are living in love !

 

Your words touched my days

Of loneliness and sarcasm

Of cynicism and doubter

Hear you brought me back to a time

When love was solemn

And ruled my believes.

I remembered your taste

And the perfumes of us

Together

As one.

 

Lovers of life

That discovered the fluorescence with in the movements

The beauty in the penetration of intimacy’s

The truth in the orgasm of souls.

I woke up to a dream

And I want desperately to live it as my life

I want you to be real

I  demand you to be the truth of my days

To be the soul that I never had

To be the light in my darkness

To be the love of my life.

 

 

Somebody to relay in the moments of doubt

A comfortable lap in the stormy nights

A truthful north in the dais of lost

A time of peace in a life at war.

Meet me in a timeless world

Were we can be ourselves

Were we are who we are

Were I can be a true man who’s capable to love

A real woman without limitations

Without lies

Free to become the most of our possibilities

Without the smallness

That these days

Impose to our lives.

 

 

I want blindly to be mesmerized

By your touch

By your mouth

By yours censes

By you coming

By your love

Be mine !

Alcir”

……………………….

 

…his reply…

“December 7, 2004
Carol
Is trully an delightfuly you; i do remember you and yor esplendor
that did caught me, was so happy that we come to enconter
each other again, even with 14000 miles in betwen.
But it is so good to read from you and returning to the days wen
we were (souds like Barbara Streisand… i am gueting old and senile)
i am in fact very happy extremely happy.
By the way   …did i spoke as i write; sounding like a mexican or a parrot
with pronunciation troubles.
Enough laffs, i am thinking right now about those days and i feel like
finding out about you and your life. What have you being douing with
yourself, married ? mother ? alone?(hope) and everithing else from
this time when we grown apart but not forgoten.
                      
I am alone and got my self a seven years old daughter Maria Vitoria
whom i love and actualy live for, and i am still fighting my wind mills
and grouing stronger and grumpier.
I am now so happy that i want to dream that life is giving me a
returning perspective.
                      
Send me you phone number and i will call you .want to hear your voice
and also email me a photo of you !
Al my best from the best time of my days !
Kisses
Alcir de Souza”

…finally a letter to him …

“December 7, 2004
Hello my dear darling crazy brasilian……
I have no idea why I only just now found your email……I have waited and searched every day, and finally decided that I should just give up.
Then, this morning, I was going over my hundreds of emails
(I sell on ebay), and THERE YOU WERE…..
First of all, let me say with all sincerity and passion that I am so glad just to know that you are alive.  Many times I have wondered, and yet
somehow I have believed that you were.
I also was afraid that you were in Desert Storm, and up there in the north, fighting the Republican Guard.  …..I guess I was right.
And yet, somehow you survived, and to read (sort of, the translations are GHASTLY), your writings has been the second thing that I am so grateful for.  To get a gleaning of what your life has been like…..
I guess I can only imagine.
I want to hear ALL of it……
Yes sweetheart, it is me.  OK, so you want proof?  What, you think
someone else is fucking with your mind?  OK….You came to my house with a Mensa brat named Steven, and you were both drunk.
You’d met at the bar….you were diving, or hoping to get a diving position at Point Arena.  It was nine o’clock, and Steven was supposed
to have cooked dinner, and you walked in with a frozen chicken.
You bowed with your hands in prayer position, and I later figured out it was because I wore a kimono.
You walked into my kitchen, and exclaimed…..
“what ees thees woooman doing with thees peecture on her wall???
I have grown up loookin at thees picture……what ees thees wooman
doing with thees theeeng???……..”
“Oh, you’re Brazilian?” …………
“Yes, what deed you theenk, I was a stupid Mexican?”………..
More? You want more?
You always left something at my house, and had to come back
to get it.
Your watch, your wallet, your sunglasses………I told you it was
because you wanted to come back…….
Oh, and you were going to vote for Bill the Cat and Opus for President………..
Remember the hot tub night?  oh my, so hot……..we were something.
Oh ya…….what car? At first you didn’t have one, I think, because you
got rides from your friend, and rode your bike (how cute was that?)
to my house.
Later, you arrived with a big fat Thunderbird…….and washed it in my yard, while I watched, and played Sade.
When you called me from Rio, you said
“I love you, and I always did…….
…and I would not want you to think something different”……….
and you kept saying  “I’ve never forgotten”……….finally I asked why…
..and your reply was one of the most poetic things anyone has ever
said to me……

“It is not often that a man can find peace”.

OK, your turn.  My heart is beating fast, and I smile to you, my
beautiful man……..
Love and kisses to you too.  I can’t wait for you to write back……
………….Carol

ps……yes, it is you.  No one has those eyes but you.”

 

 

…the letters…2004…

“O Senor,” I began….”por favor, send este email a Alcir de
Souza…es Muito Importante, Muito URGENTE!!”

…and I enclosed this note for him to pass on:

“Hello Alcir…
I can’t believe I found you.  I am so happy you are writing.
That is what you said you wanted to do when you called me from Rio.
I REALLY  need to hear from you.
I have gone thru the worst year of my life, and finding you,
no matter the circumstances, is such a blessing.

Please email me, you ShitHead……we need to talk.

Love from your crazy American….Carol”

This was the letter that I sent to the Editor of the site publishing his letters…
…those angry, anguished missiles of exasperation at a government, at
a world, gone mad.
I hoped that the Editor would have the time and the understanding to forward my note, but I really had no idea if he ever would.  There were Hundreds of Authors on this site…

There was no reply….. so I sent it again….

“Bom Dia o Senors e Senoras….
Por favor, send to O Senor Alcir de Souza el email de mia  …. delgaia@yahoo.com  .
Este muito muito importante, este muito URGENTE!…….

Muito obrigada!!……Carol Williams de USA.”

I didn’t know much Portuguese, but I figured he’d figure it out…

And finally he sent me a reply:

“Carol,
Já enviamos seu e-mail para ele  aguarde o contato.
att,
waldomiro”

I Was Ecstatic!

And then I waited…. for Weeks…. and then finally I found the following note WAAAAY back in my emails… His computer date must have been set wrong.

“November 29, 2004
Carol ?
 My delicious Carol, from my youthfull days in northern California, my crazy godess of love for whom i drove many times from Tahoe to the other end of Californiashwazerneger(Sory i couldn resist).
If is really you send me a foto and some private things that only you would know. What i was douing in there? wath car did i drove ? and other more private things .
Send me a return e mail soon.
If is you all my love and kisses !!!
Alcir
See if is realy me the man you think you know !!!!!!”
And the photo, as you can see, was an older but wiser fellow that I still knew.
And then I composed my first letter to him, after so many years….