fading

Tonight I was being curious and mischievous by delving back into a past love life. I dug up some of my 'starred' gmail chats with Cam from 2006. These are the treasures of love that will live forever in the archives of my old gmail account...the one we used for keeping our channel of communication open for hours as we worked at our desks thousands of miles away. Of course this was pre-Skype. Hopefully these precious records of our gmail chats will live forever as does the love for a soulmate. And Cam was mine.

To add the context surrounding this chat, these messages were written in the months following our 4 day reunion--the only 4 days we spent together. Although we both wanted to preserve the intensity of those days, we had both added new relationships to our lives and were trying to adjust to that. But our love lived on for quite a while. Just for the record, I've had no communication with Cam in about 3 years now, since he turned down my invitation to move to my town/country and make a go of it.

Dinamo wrote:
What do I mean when I say I'm scared of you fading? I'm scared of losing my memory of you and our 4 days together, the intensity of it, the specifics of it, like how my heart jumped when I caught you looking at me, what it was like to cuddle up next to you on that plump couch in the spa, to sweat with you in the hot springs, to smell your skin in soft dark places, to be driven through the ceiling by your fingers, the taste of your tears, the pride I felt watching you when we were out, to wake up to you and to be awakened by your touch, your million dollar smile, your sneeze, the way you opened doors for me and wanted to pay for everything, the bliss of the silence between us, the bump on your forearm, the anticipation of all the "firsts" we experienced, wearing your shirt and tucking notes in secret places to surprise you, laughing at your stories, feeling certain songs together, holding your hand and you liking it, feeling your passion as your mouth found its love, the little things you noticed like it was our first time driving in a car together, the way I knew how important I was to you, and knowing that no one's love could ever surpass ours, gazing while we ate drank and made love, learning about you and all you've done, the sex feast, your eyes, the sounds you made, the words of love you spoke. I want to keep all of it, I want to give to you better than anyone else can, I want it to remain sacred and untouchable. I love you. D

Cam's Reply:
That's it... Sacred. That makes me cry.

That's what I want, sacredness between us. That's what I experienced and what I think we are just scratching the surface of. Thank you for this idea and what you wrote. I am overwhelmed with you in this moment.
love, c

And why did I post this, you ask? There is a part of me that is searching for the depth in a relationship that I so crave. Andy and I don't have it yet and I miss it. I am willing to wait until it grows for us, but in the meantime I am trying to make it tangible in my life somehow. It makes me feel good to remember how special I was to someone, and how we could express our deepest feelings to each other. That's what seemed to feed the relationship for the longest time.

setting the skeletons free

I decided to use our trip to the little country inn to break into some new territory with Andy. You know, I was looking to further our relationship by digging a little deeper and what better place than the cozy, romantic restaurant at the inn...

We were pretty hot and heavy even before dinner, having already christened the kingsize bed in our room. Then we ordered this awesome bottle of red meritage to start off, which made us a little dreamier yet, but also acted as my liquid courage to open up this new conversation.

Andy was so receptive, and he always is, so I don't know why the hell I hesitate to get certain things off my chest. Anyway, I started asking him about his past relationships...to tell me about the good ones, and why the bad ones were bad etc. I already knew about his longterm girlfriend when he lived in NYC, and how and why that ended. And I know about his ex, the mother of his son, and how and why that began, and ended.

But mystery has always surrounded what happened after his divorce and up until now. How did this great guy stay single for so long and not get scooped up by any beautiful California women?? Well, after hearing a few stories about some pretty short term relationships, it appears that California women have their heads screwed on a little crooked. Or a lot.

These women were flighty, or generally lacking direction or ambition or a sense of reality. Maybe all of the above. I know I can't judge them all by Andy's stories. Maybe he just didn't know what he wanted, so he attracted women who also didn't know what they wanted. Somewhere along the line he created a dream that included someone like me, and his dream converged with mine. Lucky us.

I guess my biggest relief was that he wasn't hanging out with sleazy women, or druggies. I think he just got tired of being around women who were used to Daddy bailing them out of their messes, or ones who talked about doing great stuff, but never had a clue how to make it happen. In comes the ultimate planner...me! Plus I have a few other skills he can appreciate. :) It's all good.

So, after he finished telling me about his past, I offered a skeleton out of my own closet. I gave him the lowdown on Franco. This was back in '99. I had fallen in love with this guy before I even met him. We worked on a project together over the phone and by email, and I was so charmed by his personality and the attention he gave me, that I absolutely adored him within a few weeks. When I finally did meet him in person, the sparks flew. He was charming AND gorgeous. I was doomed.

I was 11 years into a marriage that had been slowly dying for years, and Franco woke up every numb nerve in my body. I explained to Andy that I knew getting into this thing with Franco was going to be trouble, but I didn't stop myself. I wanted it more than anything. Let's be clear, though. I never was sexually involved with Franco. I just kissed him and adored him. I only actually saw him like 3 times. But he rocked my world.

My husband found out about us one day and acted as if I had been having a full blown affair. Looking back, I kind of wish I had had the pleasure of fucking Franco since I got accused of it anyway. I had to end the relationship at that point, and I grieved terribly for the next year or more. My husband never forgave me (for what I didn't really do), and the marriage continued to disintegrate for another 7 years. But I persisted in trying to fix it.

Although I repeatedly apologized to my husband for the pain I had caused him, I never regretted having that relationship with Franco. He opened the window to my soul and I am forever grateful to him.

So, there Andy sat in the dimly lit restaurant listening to me tell my story, watching me turn a little flush as I relived the excitement of that time. He smiled. I asked if he wanted to change his mind about me after hearing what I had done. He smiled again.

He couldn't see anything to blame me for. All he could point out is why that would never happen to us. Because he would always make me feel so loved that I would never be looking for it somewhere else. Bottom line is he thinks I am perfect and my ex is a total dufus. I'm not sure I would say it quite that way, but I do appreciate his support.

Some of the skeletons have been set free. There are more, but we have time. We have all the time in the world. And I am seeing that it is safe and good to talk about these things.