…i’m leaving babe…

Journal, March 8, 2005…..leaving Rio tomorrow.

“She tried without success to see beyond.  To find the path leading
to the future, to their future.  But all was dark, cloudy, full of foggy
mist, tiny lights flitting in when she least expected it.
Lights leading to hope, hopes of a life constructed of dream upon
dream, until it walked in and bit her.  Knocked her in the head
with its head.

That’s what he used to do to introduce himself to someone new,
when he was young… and a few passed out.  She hadn’t passed out,
but Lordy, he surely took her breath away.

She remembered her darling Carrie, who in the last episode
(Sex and the City), had said something wonderful, something so
her feelings…
“I believe in Love, inconvenient, all encompassing, can’t live
without it Love”

And now she’d found it, dreamed it, created it, and it completely
overwhelmed her.  It’s power, the knowledge that no other man
could ever again walk into her life and possess her the way he did…
this one man.
He was the love of her life truly, and the swept away feet off the
ground, the heart over head of it creating waves of pure emotion
without name.   And he had made it clear that it was mutual.

It was completely new territory, another universe, their own world.
.. Wasn’t that what he had said in that first poem….

“Meet me in a timeless world where we can be ourselves.
Where we are who we are..where 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…”…”

 

The Present, May 2012… the story continues…

Reading this journal entry now makes me very sad…
sad for that girl there, the one with such overwhelming mind
stopping emotion and connection with this man.

At the same time, I feel such sadness at having lost it, for I do
love being in love, no matter how impossible it may be.
I believe in it.

The connection between us was real, and still is real.
I know it…he knows it.
He may have tried to move on, but the indelible sting of the
connection between us does not wash away, no matter the effort,
no matter the turning away, no matter what kind of elements you
may try to use, to dissolve away the stain.
Love is like grapejuice stains on the heart…

It’s something in this lifetime that doesn’t get to play out here,
on this particular plane of existence.
Too much territory to cover to get us to a place where who and
what we want is baked long enough and ready for consumption.

But… I think I’ve said this before… I do believe in other realities,
other dimensions, simultaneous places that we sometimes visit in
our dreams, or even at moments where this reality and the other
sort of cross wires, and things bleed through.
Strangely, I almost never dream of him.  And that’s odd, because
I have quite vivid and emotional dreams with other people with
whom I have deep connections.

But there was a magic to the entire thing, with loud and blaring signs
of breaking through the illusion, those signs of that Jungian Web thing,
where everything’s connected, timings, words, clicks,
and simultaneous thought.

These things happened from day one, and although I have pushed
much of the joy and pain altogether, out of my day to day, still
when I review things like I must in order to write this story…..
still there are wellings up, waves of memory of what might have been,
what could be somewhere, sometime, somehow, in another life.

Soul connections, mapped out long before we got here, work to be
done, energies to be shared, knowledge to keep.

We tasted paradise, we drank it in, we cradled it to our hearts, and
we will never be the same because of it.
And isn’t that just great…. and can’t that be enough?

 

 

…on the road…


The days were speeding by, and soon it would be time to leave.

The near month had passed quickly, and her mind overflowed
with information……..her heart with feelings as yet unsorted.
The memories of what those last two weeks held tumbled
into view, as she anticipated leaving Brasil, and Him.

Soon after the daughter went home, and half their time together
had already passed, he took command and as Captain of the
little Gervel ship, deciding it was time for him to show her the
world out there, beyond the gates.
They packed and planned for a grand getaway into the hills
behind Rio, and he did his military thing, with a checklist,
and assigning her her duties.

One very amusing aspect of this trip was their musical choices…
She had brought some favorites from her now vast Brasil collection,
and chose carefully,  packing up a little zipper bag of her very best
ones.  For years, as she’d listened to so much music from Brasil, and
she’d wished he’d been there to translate….and  now…!

He, meanwhile, packed up His bag of favorites, and once in the car
and showing eachother what they’d each brought, they had quite
a laugh….
There She was with Jobim and Veloso and Nascimento, and
Here He was with Willy Nelson, Neil Young, Janis, the Stones,
Van Morrison, and Sade ….  funny stuff.

Well, at least they had a good selection, although facts were he didn’t
want to listen to Brasilian music at all…. overload perhaps….?
so they dined on the USA all the way.

His bitter disgust with Brasil in general had a lot to do with that,
but more so, she thought, it was his nostalgic love of the past times…
Ten years…… of living in the States.
He had issues with the politics, but he loved the freedom
and free thinking West Coast of California.
He actually envied her having been a hippie in the sixties… and
knew that if he’d been here, he would have been right beside her.
And she loved his taste in music, especially Neil and Sade…

Since she had seen little of Brasil, besides the freeways and this
quaint island in the middle of the Bay, she found it hard to imagine
what lay ahead, but his excitement overflowed onto her.
Ever the Adventurer, he would now be in his element.

The Gervel performed like a little jeep, and once they were on the
backroads of red clay and gravel and sometimes cobblestone,
sometimes stones,  they moved back in time, through layers of
this convoluted land.
There were times when the views from rainforest mountain
tops were completely 360,
…Nothing but forest in every direction.

Thrilling, mesmerizing, terrifying, waves of every feeling and
emotion passing over her through the hours and days they took
into the unknown.
They didn’t see another car for hours at a time.  Mostly Not…
They were truly into the wilderness, and with wild and treacherous
landscapes.
Still, she trusted him implicitly, and knew he would take care of
her, no matter the circumstances.


It seemed like every turn revealed yet another Waterfall, a
Cashoeira… such glorious beauty, with flocks of loud and colorful
birds scattering into the trees and across their views.

One day, it took Two Hours to go Two Miles.  It was a varying
combination of dirt, then large rocks mixed with deep ruts, then a
little patch of road of some sort, then rough gravel over old
cobblestones, then drop off to big rocks and ruts…. the little Gervel
performed like the trouper she was… climbing and plunging,
crawling and struggling, yet always proceeding onwards…
…Sort of like Him.

This was on what was called The King’s Road, and he told her that
this was where all the Gold in the country had been carried over
the mountains on the backs of slaves, eons ago.

“…and don’ you think one or two of them hid some gold somewhere,
when they stopped to pee?
Don’ you think some was dropped, when they fell down and
were being beaten ?
“Babe!  if we had a metal detector, we could come back up here
an hunt for gold!”

There were vistas breaking through of groups of the Pau d’Arco tree,
covered in brilliant pink flowers, a medicinal wonder whose bark is the
strongest detoxifier known, and used for thousands of years as an
anti oxidant, anti bacterial, fungal and virus cleanse.

Valleys and hillsides covered with a very special, now protected tree,
because it had been so ravaged by cutting and burning…
the Parana Pine, the Brasilian Pine… stately, elegant, beautiful,
and spreading plentifully across the vistas before them.

How to describe driving for hours through places that
No human, or anything related to Human, is visible, and then
suddenly coming upon the most incredible mansion, farm,
villa or vineyard, just there all by itself in the glory of
wide open varietal rain forest hillsides.

Passing by little villages, she saw  a cart being pulled
by a donkey,  people relaxing amongst the bundles.
Brown skinned families walked peacefully along the grassy paths,
and it could be that they had time traveled into another century.

One night they stayed in a small town, Santa Clara,  that had a
hoppin’ bar and some simple street life, an art gallery, although it
was probably all of a few hundred people total who lived there.
Little street vendor spots, where she bought herself a beaded
bracelet, in opalescent blues and lavenders.
They were like cute little hippies, young and smiling, loving
to say the two or three English words they knew, always looking
as though they were having the most wondrous time of their life.

The two of them got so Toasted….and notice that’s with a capital T….
Oh, Good Lord as he would say, beyond belief…
…so much so that when they’d had their fill of dancing and kissing and
running hilariously hand in hand, they jumped into the Gervel, and
suddenly realized they Couldn’t remember if the motel they’d found
was up the hill, or back down.

Taking the gamble, they headed up.  The little backroads went on
forever, it seemed…  and remembering all the little dirt roads, all the
turns… and it was all very spinny for her, and she wondered just how
on earth he was driving these little dirt roads to what seemed like
nowhere, with so many turns and so many choices to make….
back and forth, and it was crazy shit…and she would began to slightly
panic, as much as she could maintain any continuous state of mind,
with such an inebriated brain, whose thoughts changed every five
seconds, with all the laughter and singing going on.

He just trudged on, and wait….There….around the turn, Lights….!
Turning into the driveway now, where that beloved bed awaited, all
soft and inviting, their exhausted and confused bodies.
Hello…..!!!!!

“How did you Do that?” she wondered at him, completely
Beyond Belief, over How the heck he’d they’d even landed …

“I have no idea…!”  he laughed….

His internal gyroscopic compass was working just fine somehow…..
Out they tumbled … quite literally… and fell upstairs to deep sleeps.

The next morning …..she realized she couldn’t find her shoes……..
And now….. where the heck was her bra…!
Very strange… what the what?…. where…?
They turned the room upside down, under the bed, along the walkway.
At last,  she trudged downstairs to the car, and …..
There they were!!!…in the car….!!!

Apparently she’d taken them off in all that hilarity, and had no
recollection whatsoever of having done such, with the top down and
their oblivious semi consciousnesses, trundling along blindly.

“It’s a wonder,” she thought, “that I didn’t throw them overboard,
the state I was in… !  That would have been interesting, cruising the
roads, trying to find my bra!”
“Excuse me sir, have you seen a green lace bra on your walk?”
….and they laughed all the way into their next delight….

 

 

…leaving on a jet plane…

February 9, 2005

OK… so here I am, sitting in the airport, all packed and ready to go…
It’s about 5:30 am, and the plane boards at 7.  > EGAD…!

The day is finally here, and I am a bit numb.  The last 24 hours
are a blur of lists and deadlines… I was up at 3am yesterday, and
I think I dozed a couple hours between 5 and 8.  Very physical day,
moving tons of boxes and furniture.  Last minute things all day,
finishing the animals and ebay, and mending,
cleaning, packing…all of it.

And now I’m here, waiting to begin my journey to my future.

She wondered how she ever got here… Looking ahead, to a future
unknown, yet so full of strange foreign fare.  Possibilities loomed…
She’d felt many things in the past 2 months…lately she’d been
saying she felt like the girl on the half shell.
Like a mail order bride. Like Grace Kelly leaving all she’d known,
to be with her man, in a strange country.
All pleasant……all prickly strange.

If it all were true, this would be the last hours of aloneness.
So many years seeing herself alone…how many? 21?  Lots of
false starts, lots of maybe – maybe nots….. And now?
Could this be a cosmic joke?  The signs were auspicious,
she had to admit.

Could things really just fall properly into place, and aside from
the usual day to day drab realities of really knowing someone,
is it possible, just possible that the two of them were inheriting
some sort of golden egg, laid how long ago, but now fully ripe
and hatching forth a creature of shimmering luminescence,
full of light and ready for action.

To see him finally face to face… His specter prowled
the cove of her heart, and she desperately desired
a peaceful resolution to her longing.

It would be many hours, stops in Chicago and Miami, time changes,
dozing and rousing in that dream state that travel creates…
And by late tomorrow afternoon, they would be together.

 

 

…internal journal…

  January 6, 2005

So… the talks we have, long and into the night, are frequented
with lots of booze, but when he’s inebriated, he really talks,
expounds with theories and diatribes, on ethics and commitments,
on his mind set and why.

It’s pretty darned interesting, but it’s also a lot of work.  I feel
exhausted from it, and I’m not quite sure of the whys.
I feel like I need to record this, and that it is important somehow.
But why do I feel this way?

It is important because he is a movie in the making, because his
voice is a broad band of incomparable experience of Maleness
in this world.
.. or am I just puffing it all up with importance…?

You can see the cover of my old journal, and it speaks for itself.
I knew what I was getting in to, yet there was no going back.

Interesting things are occurring in my brain throughout all of this…
First there was the fantasy, the romantic movies that were left in
my storehouse, replayed so many times that I was truly unsure of
what was the truth anymore.

I remember writing quickly, to remember clearly, so as not to distort
it, but still after all this time, I am no longer assured it is the truth.
No one else even knew him, except my daughter Piney a little, and
she adored him.  A couple people MET him, but I know no one else
now who Knew him then.

So as these weeks have passed, I notice the old movies fading, and
a new gathering image formulating before me.   One based on bits
and pieces, gleaned from long conversations, one building upon
another, like pixels filling in the dots to dots, and a new man begins
to emerge before me, in my mind’s eye.

Yet these eyes, which lived to eat up his countenance, these eyes
which were so delightfully pleased with the sensual pleasures of his
physical self…….they are not allowed to be involved in this re-
formulation yet, this complete re-assembling of information.

And now I see the brain attempting to overlay one upon the other,
the  old, or rather Younger Alcir, the iconic hero character who
flashed in and out of my reality…overlayed like images on Velum…
over this new Alcir, the more complex and complete picture of the
man, without the eyes filling in and informing my soul.

These eyes see much, and I depend on them to grant me information
that they grasp on so many levels.  Will they adore what they see,
or will they speak of pain and sadness, and too much to handle?

This other life that I head towards, this being that impacted my orbit
with great explosions and re-adjustments…that in effect changed
some of my life’s directions..  enlarging my horizons, and filled in
spaces by his very existence..can I now integrate him into my
daily life, can I hold it all, and still keep hold of myself?

We are tumbling towards eachother, as surely as stars on trajectory
into a future that holds more explosions and murgings, to
create a new being, a new reality, a new star in the night sky.
What will this star pour out into the universe?
And what is IT’s life about?

This particular evening, after he’s heard I have a ticket,
a date, a plan…
…..after he’s been back in the shadows smoking his cigar,
hiding his hopes…
After spreading himself like jam on my  toast …
with that poem, that said his heart was new and open…
….after the shared heart stories…
….his youthful joy renewed…

He’s been back there, waiting for my true reply, waiting to SEE…
“I want to SEE it”   he’s said, over and over.

So he leaves the phone to pee…and when he comes back,
his voice is insistent…
“One thing just occurred to me…
You’re not Bullshitting me, are you?”

It was a statement, not a question.

 

 

…journal entry december 2004…

“My mind wandered past years of mind games, years of imaging,
and I wondered:  has all this thinking, remembering, replaying
old mind videos made it happen?  Or did I just Know to begin with?
Gazing continually at scenes of Rio, Pao d’Azucar, Corcovado,
Guanabara Bay, the Islands, the Music… and always him in each…
Think of Rio visit, and Always in my mind there’s the thought…
I want him to show it to me.
I want to be with him, and see His Brasil.

The days are getting longer again, and just the thought
makes me smile… Actually the thoughts of more than a few things
make me smile…
Such incredible things to look forward to, such possibilities…
My dear darling crazy Brasilian is down and wounded, and I
wonder why… His left knee is bad, and where did that old injury
come from, which dragon was he slaying?

Haven’t spoken with him in many days, and it actually feels better
to take a break.  The longing festers…
It’s only been 2 weeks since we first spoke, and so much already.
And I must wait 2 months for Passport, 2 months of selling,
2 months of workouts..
Last times I called, he wasn’t in a talking mood. I felt awkward, like
I was irritating him, and that just led to frustration and feelings
of rejection, so I do not call.  He’s in his cave, even though he says
‘call any time you want’…  I want Him to call Me.

So now, for one thing, I realize he lied to me when we were together
before.  He told me he was ‘tirty tree’, but his real birthdate is
four years later.  So he was only 29 when we met!  What a Brat!
A brash and bold, incredible Brat.

Now back to December 8th, his first call:

His questions came fast… Is your hair still long?  Do you still wear
those dresses and long skirts?  You sound the same, he said.
I can see you right now.  I always loved your voice…. he’d never
told me that …

“Yes, I remember the hot tub…” he continued.  “And it wasn’t just
the drugs… we went someplace else.”  (… we had smoked the kind,
but god only knows what else he had done…)
“That was the only time I had Peace.  I could fall asleep with my
head on you, on your lap.  I never did that.
I was drunk most of the time… I was drunk that first night, but
you sobered me up…”

“So….when are you coming to Brasil?  We can listen to Real Brasilian
music, and you can lay down beside me.
I’ll show you the Best of Brasil…”

He told me that after the first email, he had called my old number…
he still had my old shop card, from back in the eighties!
He read off the address, the phone… he’d kept it in a box since
the Legion.  He said it was now a store in town, and
they didn’t know me.
My shop had been called ‘Celestial Dreams’… and up floated the
memory of that time early on, when the phone rang…
“Hello..”
“Hallooo?  eees thees Celestial Dreeeems?”
“….yesss…?”
“Yes….. I’d like to order one celestial dreeeem, pleees….”
(snickers all around)
“Actually,” he added…. I’ll settle for an earthly one…”

So now he continued…  “Right now I am alone.  All the time.  I have a dog.
I swim everyday.  That’s Alone.  I want to get a Boat,
I want to sail and fish. ”   He said he was semi retired,
living on a small pension from the Legion…

“I have no enemies now” he shared.  “And you remember
All my names!  Only my grandmother knows all those names!
And I? ….I remember your taste…. you tasted so good….
…..you tasted like flowers.”

 

 

…to be or not to be…

You know, I’m beginning to see readers that are checking out my
story from Norway, Hong Kong, Australia, Turkey, Bangladesh(!)
Brasil, and of course the States…

This is exciting!  Although the audience is small right now, to
have such a planetary interest throws me back to one intention
that has been there since before I started this blog….
I’m going to turn this Romance into a Book, sooner or later!

So for now, that’s all I have to say.  But as the days and weeks go by,
I may have some more definite plans to let you in on.  I’d like to make
it available both on line, and in printed form…

I am always interested in your reactions, so Please pipe up, join in,
and give voice to what would make you happy!
And Please note that when you have a thought, do share it with me,
even if it’s brief.  It’s nice to know you’re out there…

Peace to All…..

 

 

…the waiting begins…

Oh my, where was I?  I do leave this Tale of Love from time to time,
for a break in the effort, which is a little arduous, but don’t you find
you can’t wait for the next Chapter?  Good!
As I recall, I was having heart palpitations over the poem sent
to me from Brasil.
Passionate and completely mad, still my girlish heart had been
captured, and the desire to share swept over me til I drowned in it.
Girls just Have to share…

There was one person who could grok the moment, and that was
my daughter Piney.

I was living with her at the time, before, during and after she moved
into a new house in our area of Oregon, and she’d been kept abreast
of the goings-on with him.
She had known him during the times he visited me back in the eighties,
and was quite fond of him.  She found him funny, smart and playful,
and a rather exciting character to a kid.
Sort of like a real life Jack Sparrow, all dashing and full of tall tales
of courage and wild adventures… but not so much eye makeup…

It wasn’t long before I got an email from the little miss… who was
now a bit of an international, as her work (promotion for big companies) lead her to travel.

“Re:   sugar and spice and…GET OFF THE INTERNET!”  read the line,
so I did…
…but only after I read the note:

“hey mom,

trying to call you, you must be on line. give me a call when you
get this e-mail.
i have something to tell you…. something you’ll like….a lot.

love,
-pine”

What she had to tell me would now stop my breath as well…. Great…
now I can’t breath, And my heart has already stopped..

She had Tons of Miles to spare, and offered me a Ticket to Brasil…

Oh Good Grief.  Not only him, but Brasil too?  Completely Unreal.
Brain Overload, tape loops, wake up sweats…

So now the plans began, and I had Two Months to wrap up my life,
get ready for another reality, and of course…loose a few pounds…
I Am a girl after all.
He desperately wanted me to be there for his Birthday…Feb 14th…

He was ecstatic, I swung between several states of mind, but mostly
I worked on bringing my brain to the present, and …..
Just What was this Reality that I had called to myself…?

 

 

…it’s all now…

Writing is an interesting process.   There’s that word again… interesting.
If you pay attention, you notice changes about yourself… growth,
hopefully, and also a broadening of perspective as you see yourself
as others might see you.

As the years, and chapters, spin by… faster each year, like horses on
their return trip home, one begins to see how the writing
changes the writer.

As I review… Re-View… my journals, I enjoy both the actuality of
the moment, and the perspective I gain about myself.

I still believe the story I am telling is a valid and delightful story,
a classic if you will, with iconic characters acting out some pre-
ordained dance, and I also know that he and I have danced before,
and will again.  For life is not only ongoing…  it is a forever decision
we all have made, and denial is only a brief retreat from what
our soul knows……. The Forever Dance.

A new friend of mine, reading my blog for the first time,  noted that
she hated thinking of me as hung up on some dude, that
she did not see me as someone like that… and so it set me to thinking.

No, my friends, I am not…
Not that type, nor that woman.
This was a chapter of my ongoing life, and I am firmly in the now,
whilst enjoying a story that for me has become something classic
that I want to share.
For there are not only wonderful stories and dreamscapes….
there are things to be learned…. and not just for me either.

When I was a child, I thought as a child, I understood as a child….
… I believe that is some bible quotation, but still it renders true,
for the journals I wrote then were truly as a child.
Love, Romance, and all the attached Thrills were my reality in
many ways, and I have paid the price of that naivete.

I have no need to go down that path anymore, for now I see what
I went there to see.
Love has many flavors, degrees, and depths.  One can Love, and
yes, truly Love at that;  but if that Love is not enlightened by
wisdom and vision, the quest for love becomes a distraction from
the Real, a rush towards emotional sensations, and a mistaking of
passion for Love, of thrills for Love, and worse yet, the choice of
who receives that focus of Love can end up with Love being thrown
at someone who cannot Love at all.

Ah, the Chase, the challenge, the hunt, the seeking of a prize, the
reliving and reworking of past and unfinished scenarios….
I see all these things in my past choices.

I am a different person now.  I enjoy my past movies, but I thankfully
have moved on to a realer place, having learned from my
myriad of choices…
I mean…..How many times before you Get it…?
They may come up above ground once in a while, and wave a little
hello to me, but I see them for what they are, for things I already
have figured out, and I smile at myself.

Interestingly enough, most recently I had a visitation from an
old/younger Love of mine, and for me it was a clear reminder of
what I Really want.
He is clear, high minded, multi-faceted, brilliantly beautiful, and accomplished.  A musician, a writer, a thinker, and…a grown up.

In order to make these things happen, he has not frittered his talents
and gifts away.  Nay, he has made the best of it all, and as we spent
the evening together, I realized that this unassuming and gentle soul
was indeed my Twin Soul in so many ways;  ways that created
seamless mind melds and common ahas…
enough to make you believe in the mystery of connections,
the Mystical Web of Cosmic Consciousness.   And yet in this lifetime,
we each have chosen to pursue the lessons of life that were needed
to fulfill our promises.

I chose bad boys…. he chose complex and neurotic women…
……funny, huh?

Now, we could have chosen eachother, and it would be a blissful and
heavenly blend of all that either could ever want… that became
very clear as the evening progressed,
and much to our mutual surprise.

Instead, we’ve been doing our homework.  I know that we are drifting on parallel paths, and we also know there is a past and
there is a future…….and the Ever Now.

I believe in parallel realities.  I know that these exist simultaneously…
so then I was faced with the fact that it’s all just Fine, that it’s
all going on just as it should, just as it will, and just as we each
decide to write it…
I also realized that the He that he is, that I wish I could blissfully
enjoy right now, is there always, for me once I learn what
I need to learn, once I’m ready to relax, to just Be in Bliss….
Oh, that struggle can be so seductive!  but
it’s like you never Get there…

I know that the bliss is there, because I once woke up from a dream,
and he was still holding me, my pillow his shoulder, and in the
morning misty wakes, I lay in quiet bliss…

For now, I go on learning my lessons, taking my classes in
personalities, and seductive paths.
This visit with my beloved friend has reminded me of how far
I’ve come, and how far I have to go.
It also has reminded me that I Will Not Settle for any less than
exactly where I am, and where I’m going, myself.

At some point there are Bardos that we reach, and we jump…
and move on to new vistas.  I look forward to the next Bardos…
For now, this one has some very nice views and vistas that
I shall enjoy for a while.
The Bliss is there in the future, there in my dreams, and here
in the now as I so choose it.

It’s all here… all of it together …. all Now… all One.

 

 

…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.”