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 I am lying. I am lying down and surrendering.
Nothing can hurt me anymore. I've lost; I've loved and lost. I don't feel like a loser though.
The phone is ringing and I let it ring. I let my truth ring out. In my sadness there is joy. In my loss there is a new beginning. I am free to love and live. I always have been. I always will be and I get to decide what it looks like. I can't make anyone else see what I see, but I can see what I see with such clarity that I disappear and they can see the truth, too. I am naked, "standing naked on the precipice of dawn" no longer in that straightjacket. My world expands and contracts as the breath and the heart. The fullness followed by a serene peaceful emptiness.
The creation of man has never seen anything so beautiful as a woman in full bloom. I have power. I am a sexual being. Yes, I fuck, sometimes I make love but it's only good when I am. When used properly, my power assists in the world finding itself. I feel the power and strength of the women in my life more intensely than ever. This shift and movement is more filled than any women's movement seen before. It's silent but its happening is deafening and magnificent. It's a Main Street Parade in the souls of women. Men are learning, some aren't far behind, but others don't understand it. They feel a change. The ones that can admit will survive; the others will remain oppressed and stifled. Some women will not know either.
I know.
I've known but haven't experienced…in this lifetime, that is, but I am now. Intuition can beat experience when you experience the power of intuition. I went to this man's friends' house and had sex with him. I just lay there because part of me was worried about my knee and the other part was wondering what the fuck I was doing there. Sure, it felt good while he was massaging my back and telling me through his touch how wonderful my body felt. I know now what a great body I have and I also know how to enjoy it more than anyone else.
He pulled down my sweats and underwear because I was already face down and topless for the massage. He was drunk smelling of alcohol with his friends imbibing in the other room. The door was closed and then open and then he finally closed it again when I realized what was going to happen. I wanted to leave but then again, it might be good. I could escape the thought of Michelangelo for just one moment.
His penis was either small or too drunk, either way I made him cover it. I'd managed to find a position that wouldn't compromise the healing knee and that could accommodate this penis. He enjoyed himself and I had moments of glee in between my yawns and wondering where he had gone. It was over, I guessed that because of the harder final thrusts and a squeal of some sort. The condom was as full as he could manage and it remained on as he fell onto his stomach in hopes that I would return the favor of a massage. I still don't know what he was babbling about but I wanted french toast the next morning as he'd promised. It was only about 30 minutes that I'd been there. Still didn't feel as though I'd had sex and now I was rubbing his back. This I have to say was a pleasure because I could review the muscles on his back. His body was tone and supple. I managed to get that he was involved in Brazilian Jujitsu, there was definitely a discipline. He was a fine specimen, as my father would say. His sighs and moans of pleasure became less and less as he fell asleep or passed out.
I could stay or go. It was 3am or so and here was a naked man lying on his belly, everything exposed but his lower legs covered by a white fluffy down comforter. The bed squeaked with little or no movement as we found out earlier. I was naked and hadn't brought much in with me. My overnight bag was still in the car. The thought of sex in the morning was interesting but not so intriguing. I didn't want to walk out the next morning with 5 boys staring at me hoping that I would be their one night stand for this quick Labor Day weekend. No need to feel like a slut, but the french toast did sound good. A few deep breaths, the thought of going home to finish my journal entry and a quick pee after collecting my pajamas and putting them on… I put my shoes on and decided to go. The next decision was whether to cover him up or not. A beautiful naked body like that should be shared for everyone, especially his best buddies in the other room.
What would they think? She left before french toast; she was here for 30 minutes. I could call Michelangelo and share and lie about the size of this man's penis. It was huge and wonderful, never better. My watch was ticking, the boys outside the door were snoring and I had a smile on my face. No man could ever make me happy no matter how much they loved my body. They could admire it and it was up to me for how long. As quietly as possible I left a man with his ass exposed, penis wrapped, and a taste of love behind. The love came from the truth. The truth of the moment was that I loved myself. So, I had to forgive myself for not listening to my intuition, but I listened the next time and I came home.
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