I wrote this February 24th- it was reflective of Sam and me at the time... for me maybe it evolved... for him- obviously, not so much. But the energy- or his implication which I teribly mis-read becasue its what I wanted to see... he implied, when he was holdng my face in his hands- that it mattered.

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"And in the end they wanted security more than they wanted freedom." –E Gibbon

I read that the other day- and in climbing inside the thought and bringing the edges of it up around my chin and trying it on for a while- I had insight… clarity, you might call it.

Maybe it isn't that they wanted security over freedom. What if they find their freedom in this security? What if the passion IS what keeps them in 'it'? Not just 'Dinner's at 5'… or the favorite, edge of the bed at 2am position.

I understand there has been an absence of words, so the light shed in the direction of this dynamic may appear peculiar and shadowed.

From where I stand- in it- up to my eye balls- perhaps the freedom brought insecurity. But I wouldn't say it ever erased the passion for eachother's lives. More, it has deepened it. It has deepened it and the glow you find on him dwells in a place below and behind structure or comfort. It pitches a tent where it stands and Becomes – over and over again, Home.

But then, the love of a good woman always does..

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that being said- he let me know I was never a good woman- and it never mattered. I dont do 'never mattered' so well. I was never good at 'whore'. I only ever did 'love'. Hell I cant even do 'friend with benefits'. And i sure as shit can't swim.

roll those sleeves up

For years- when asked "What is the first thing you notice about people?" the answer was usually "the way they say their words." I love to hear people speak with little pieces of the places they have called home. I enjoy to hear the weekend they spent in Colorado sneak out of their mouths or the summers they would take at the shore. I could hear DelMarVa on the tongue from within 30 miles even, at times…

If you asked me today though, I would have to say the thing I notice most nowadays is the places people roll up their sleeves. Not what kind of sleeves, the cuff links or not. But did they come early to set up, stay late to tear down? Were their hands in the food? dishes? taking out the trash? Did he mean it when his hug said that I fed him better than he had been fed in a long time. Was he not only talking about the food…

Sure, my favorite thing may be to see a wrinkled white shirt, splattered with oils- or the tail dotted with ink. I enjoy to be around people who sing for their supper and speak as poets, not always through song. I may fall in love daily with random smiles, gestures and laughs. But as of late, it's straight up involvement that moves me.

It's a beautiful thing.

I tend to crush on anything that moves. I'm in love with a beautiful man. But every single day, every place I go, I find myself in breathtaking like with complete strangers. Not in any tangible or substantial way. I am just constantly reminded of the beauty of humanity. I watch both the nature and kindnesses of people and my world just seems to glow.

People roll up their sleeves and instantly become the sexiest people alive. Watch the people around you. You'll want to do coffee with 10 people a day, just for the gratitude!