II. The Bitchin Banana

I was afraid I lost you in a sea of names. Regrets that I didn't ask you more while I had you're undivided attention began to come over me. My life is filled with pleasing others, so I don't have very much time to cater to my urges. Is it too much to ask for passion and frequency? Intimate acts that aren't immediately followed by sex are the perfect foreplay. The more I listen to my heart, the more I cannot deny something is wrong in my life.

I've been thinking about you all this time. You're the kind of person that if I don't follow through getting to know you, I'll always regret it. My sexuality in constant bloom, you come to my garden and really appreciate the hard work I've put into being a woman. So many boots have tread through, tearing up my heart and dragging mud through my house. For once, I would love to be kissed with passion when joined by my partner. I would love to hear the words "I want you to feel good."

And what of these men who pass into the background noise of my head? Do they only wait for me to be weak and vulnerable? I care deeply and I deny not my love for the men I've shared my heart with. Mom taught me sex without love is a degradation of one's soul. Mom, I really tried to love them all, but they couldn't handle my wild heart. So if it's just been sex, and all my unselfish gestures go to waste eventually, where do I turn now? It's always been about him. Whether it was this "him", or that "him", didn't really matter. I've poured myself into making it "work" over and over only accomplishing to tear a hole in some guy's heart and leave myself drained and devastated. I've spent the better part of my adulthood trying to convince my spirit that life was easier with a man by my side. At the cost of many self sacrificial moves, I've buried myself again, along with any resolution to my current conundrum.

I found a needle in a pile of hay a couple days ago. I immediately thought of you. One day I'll tell you about my sketch of a woman on a broken hay bale. Slumped, her head in her hands probably hiding tears, she envisions a needle. How did you find me and shine light into my mind where the darkness was once more prevailing? All the doubt about love has come from knowing that so many men left me unsatisfied. Broken hearts are abundant no matter who or how you love, but somehow this feeling runs deeper than what I'm familiar with. I never thought I wasn't going to be with a man. I do enjoy them, when properly trained they can be quite good in bed. However that takes time, energy and usually a relationship for it to work in my favor. For once I would just love to fall into you and understand what it is you whisper to me about.

Can I let go of what I know? Can I even address these issues with you in our current situation? I can only hope that time unveils us as good friends if that were to be our only fate. I know you've shared yourself honestly with me, and I also yearn to share myself with you. I crave the attention you wish to lavish on me. My desire to feel your kiss goes beyond what I can even comprehend at this moment. It means so much more than just a kiss. It's the beginning of metamorphosis.

You told me to think about all the men I've been with. I can't begin to tell you what less traveled road you've led me down. When I think about them, I cry for them. Beyond their comprehension they've lost me and only cling to a hope that it could be that good again. I don't even entertain the thought of going back to any of them for a relationship.

I felt hurt, used and taken for granted when I thought about how many names have drifted up onto my shore. My four moons leading my emotions, I always dive in head first and immerse myself in the tide that will inevitably pull me under, wash me up and leave me on the sand to wither.

I imagine us there on the beach sharing a sunrise after talking and making love all night. I can't picture a better scene to relax me right now, till I have to wake up and do it all over again; my life.