happiness, love

Jim and Symposium


I have always thought Greg is extremely possessive and controlling until I met Jim. No, no, correction here, until Jim found me and put extensive pressures on me to the point of literally raping me in a cheap hotel. He demanded afterwards to give him the full access to my I-phone contacts, to my personal space, and to my soul. I felt I was an oyster he attempted to shuck. He was continuously trying to drown me in waterfront dining, yacht racing, gun clubs, and jet memberships. I got tired and surrendered; he is Greg’s big boss, one of the clinic owners, with a huge ego and endless love for fishing.  

I agreed to fly with him to Montréal to a cancer immunotherapy conference since Greg’s name was on the list of participants. I spent half a day in a beauty salon getting that high-maintenance and seemingly casual look. I wanted Greg to see me with Jim, get jealous, and regret. The symposium was long and boring. I kept looking around restless in my efforts to find him in the conference hall, feeling with my skin astonished glances of the audience. My anxious curiosity and the black off-shoulder dress did not match the event.

I stepped out of the room tired of watching old farts with endless oncology reports and saw Greg in the empty hall. He was obviously late and stressed out.
          My Vixen is here, life is good now
          Do you like my new dress?  
          I like what is in the dress more

 I knew I was missing him all the time, his warmth, his smell, his narcissism.

          Are you leaving now? Where are you staying? What are you up to? – He had that intense look. I blushed and turned away.
          Planning to walk the laces on my dress and listen to their rustle.
          Any other plans?
          Not really
          I will come over after this, gotta present first
          You can’t, I am not by myself any more, Greg.
          Can I come over?
          I am with my boyfriend
          Can I come over?
          No, I am with my boyfriend
          But I want to see you, tell me the room number now
          You know my boyfriend
          Of course I do, he has a small penis, you like his jet Vixen, and you want me
          I love you Greg
          Take this.  He held the magnetic hotel room key out to me – Go upstairs, relax, I will bring you dinner once this charade is over. And please take off this ugly dress. I hate it really.

As I walked into the room he was staying, I sensed him immediately. Ideal order of the king suite, well-organized closet and spotless bathroom. Perfection about everything, surgical ingenuity, and artless psychopathy.  I unpacked my suitcase, threw jeans and sweaters on the coffee table, added a usual mess of tooth brushes, contact lens cases, and jewelries to the bathroom, and jumped in the shower. I stood under the running water for a while holding on to the present moment like Goethe’s Faust: Stop Time. Thou Art So Beautiful!

Greg got back after midnight and laughed hysterically at my undies on the floor and hairs in the bathroom sink. We went to the rooftop bar to watch the city and eat oysters. Jim kept calling and texting until I turned off my I-Phone. I was with the most wonderful man on this planet, I did not care about Jim’s possessiveness, generosity, and wealth.

The next day at the airport, I lied to Jim calmly looking into his dark and expressive eyes about the need to spend the night by myself in order to think about my feelings for him and blah-blah-blah. I did not care if Jim bought it or not. On our way back to Florida, I quietly studied sparkling water mechanically raising my head and smiling to stewardesses every time they added more into my glass.
          Honey, have the blood-work done for me. You may be calcium and iron deficient because of your vegan diet.  – Jim was truly concerned. I looked outside the window. Pinkish clouds, sunset, ice on the airplane wings, and serenity; I was in his private jet, and I could not care less.  

Jim told me he loves me and will never let me go, and I knew I will start believing in God if one day Greg tells me the same.

life

Loving myself


I love being as light as a feather both physically and spiritually.
The only thing that really matters to me is my physical and emotional health. None of societal games are nearly as important as my wellbeing and mental stability.
I like light and pleasant people
I enjoy being with those who communicate with this universe through their skin, their touch, their openness. Greg is like this, he literary feels the reality through his body, and due to it, I close my eyes to his meat-eating habits and surgery performing  
I love those who smell like fruit and berries, spend their free time in a local gym, and look defined and healthy
I dislike heavy stuff, too much thinking and ongoing mind farting are neither cool, nor sexy
I prefer white teeth, six pack abs, and vegan diet to dull and serious commitments to the loud goals of making this world drug-free, hunger-free, drama-free, and other bullshit. Those who are incapable of taking care of their own health and financial situation particularly love saving this planet. It feeds their ego and helps them hide personal unfulfillment behind cheesy non-for-profit talks, burned coffee, and greasy pizza
My life principle is simple – there are no steady principles. I create my own rules, and I can change them at any time. What is fine with me today, may be entirely unfit tomorrow, therefore, I just flow through the life and do not fix myself in any particular beliefs
I do not trust my mind. I only follow what my body says since it never lies. The mind is full of societal crap: “can’t do it, not worthy of that, it will surely be this way, it will always result in that, and blah-blah-blah”. The body is truthful, the body does not care about ambitions, competitions, achievements and other shit. The body will be straightforward and show you through fatigue and illness what exactly you need what not. I listen to it, I love it, I enjoy it. My body is my good friend
I enjoy Greg and dark raw chocolate. They are both yummy. But I am not addictive to any of them. Addition is bad for health, and I like staying healthy
I do not believe in comfort and joy 24 hours a day. If you look for endless pain-free existence, check yourself into a psychiatric facility with padded walls and floors and ongoing medication intake. Real life is much more thrilling than being happy and trauma-free all the time
And I love myself, my petite lovely self, I am my own best friend regardless of my decisions and mistakes. And my self-love is unconditional.   
life

The Art of Being Alive


I dislike frozen people. They refuse to see the reality the way it is and live in their shells where they hide themselves from life. They are weak to face the truth and lie all the time. They lie about how much they love their jobs, how happy they are in relations, how successful they are in life. Some of them even have kids. Poor ones, living with numb parents that feed them lies 24 hours a day is no fun.
Frozen people give up too fast since they are weak. They allow others to hurt them, they dramatize about being hurt throughout the entire life. They take antidepressants, drink alcohol, and hang out with similar losers.  Being frozen is no cool; it is asexual; it is like having sex with 100 condoms. Yikes.
I promised to myself to never freeze, to never block myself from the world no matter what happens since it is delightful to relate to the world through the skin, through the touch, through my body, through my feelings. If my heart breaks, be it, I will accept it as a challenge, deal with it, and keep walking though the life open and inquisitive. 

I do feel pain, and I never fight it. I accept it as a part of being a human, I neither hide nor regret.

I made the decision to never prevent myself from feeling when it rained heavily. I was standing in the parking lot absolutely lost. The first time I experienced Greg’s personality. Very tall, very charismatic, cold blue eyes, blond hair, 3-day stubble, and talented narcissism.  He was sexually aggressive and kept pressuring and pressuring me into having sex until I gave in. And of course he disappeared after, and of course I felt like a tossed paper bag from Wholefoods. Sore from his big un-lubed cock, and entirely drained physically and emotionally, I was giving promises to my reflection in the puddles that I will not close myself from the world and will never become one of those insensible zombies who gave up on themselves long ago and mechanically buy groceries, go to church, and fall asleep with someone they have no feelings for.
That night when I returned to the farce of my marriage, I knew I would leave as soon as I have enough funds to afford my own place. I started saving up. 6 months later Greg ran into me in a grocery store, and it all started again. 
Ten months after I was living by myself carrying his child, and feeling the happiest person on this planet every time he stopped by with mangoes and pineapples. Greg may come and go, I will never suppress my feelings. I will continue trusting this Universe no matter how painful it is when he disappears from my life.  
love

Greg, Gas Station, Buddhism


I have no idea how this world works. Nor have I any understanding about people’s ways of thinking, and how they behave. I gave up creating illusions about others and myself long ago, since the more sand castles I build in my mind, the more painful it is when the dreams crash against the reality.
I gave up trying to predict other’s actions since it is a mere waste of time and health. Thinking too much about the future that is not here yet, basing my expectations on the past experiences always led me nowhere. So I gave up trying.
Stupid books on how to get the man of your dreams were thrown into my waste basket. I am way too grown up for manipulative games that, anyways, make no sense. Feeling free from the societal convictions about traditional relationships, monogamy, commitments to stay in marriage is what I finally acquired after years of personal mistakes and traumas.
Greg is the only attachment that I was struggling to let go. I kept holding on to the illusion that he should be back, but finally I allowed myself to relax and accept the reality the way it is.
I was at the gas station ready to vacuum-clean my vehicle, when Greg texted me:
“I want you. I have wanted you since the first time we met. I just can’t get you to stay interested.”
Hmm, here we go. Sounds like Emy is away, or she is withholding sex, and I would never blame her. Living with a creature like Greg must be a never-ending yo-yo, draining, depressing, frustrating.
His next text: When shall we see each other again? – My whole perception of the world went upside down within seconds. The gas station seemed to turn their heads at my loud laughter. Everything upturned: the sky, the clouds, the old public vacuum cleaner, the wet asphalt, and dirty tires of passing vehicles. Even muggy Florida air got refreshingly transparent. He is back, thank you Universe, thank you God, thank you, thank you, thank you
My previous detachment convictions collapsed, I am attached and addicted, and I do not care.
On my way home, I got a phone call from his assistant.
–           Dr. C. wants to know your availability this week.  
–           Tell him to go to hell
–           Excuse me? – she seemed to be shocked, and I could care less. Her employer is rude to a fault, why should his women be different.  – He is asking when you are available this week…
–           Tell him to leave me alone – I hung up on her, I was mean, but it is her choice to swallow disrespect with a smile for 15 bucks an hour.
His Audi was in my parking spot, he was waiting outside, quiet, introverted, toxic. I unlocked the front door and let him in.
–            I want to claim your pussy as mine   
–           My body belongs to me, my dear
–           You misunderstand me… – he had that pit-bull look, scary and mesmerizing – You mind, your body, your spirit, and even your pussy of course belong to you, but when it comes to your pussy and sex I want to be the only man there, the only man touching, kissing, licking, and fucking you, that’s what I mean claiming your pussy
–           I did not invite you, Greg
–           Deep down inside you feel me, Vixen…
My Buddhist non-attachment philosophy does not work around him, he is back again, and I am in love like a cat in heat.
life

Joe, mechanic, hotel


Joe texted me when I left the office. The week was endless, and I was sad and exhausted trying to brighten my evening with some sweet cherries.
“Sweetheart, interesting idea came to me to put you up for the next weekend in Elysium Grande, you could hang by the beach and get a massage, have no idea if it appeals to you, it’s a beautiful hotel, right on the water. I would NOT stay with you, and may visit you perhaps if you like.”
I tapped on the texted link and livened up. The resort looked enticing with spas, relaxation pools, and private jacuzzi baths. My body was craving for rest, I had the feeling that adding more stress to it will break me, so I hurriedly texted back.
I won’t say no to it, my dear. I am tired and need some time for myself”.  The only thing I disliked about the whole idea was Joe’s desire to stop by. I wanted to be by myself healing from the traumas Greg put me through that night. I still showed bruises on my throat and was entirely heart-broken.
“You need to rest, you deserve it, take your son, have fun, I will take care of it” – That evening I felt grateful for having Joe in my life.
I texted back the polite “You do not have to do it for us” and got the usual “My sweet, silly, worrying girl, I wish I could do more”.
Deal than. I stretched and yawned. Greg is no longer here, I am totally annihilated by his violence and disrespect. I was thinking about giving in to Mike’s constant offers to become the sub in his sadist-masochist games. I am subservient to a fault.
The next morning was Saturday. I had to take my car to an auto repair. A mechanic was a young guy, tall, lean, and athletic I could literary feel his defined body under the uniform. Bright eye-whites and clear skin.  A happy exclusion from many who eat junk, drink soda, hide trashy smells with gums and cologne, and demand being loved for who they are. I love attractive people, both males and females, they make this world enjoyable. We scheduled another appointment for the next week, shook hands, and I left elated that simple and handsome people still exist. Joe’s text message threw me from euphoria to the male midlife crisis: boating, golfing, erection problems, and career.
“I will postpone the Keys trip, wanna see you badly”.  – I did not text back.
 I pictured him giving his black credit card at the reception while I would be hiding my eyes from the front-desk meticulously studying hotel brochures. I turned off. I was about to puke. I was ready to deny him, his sentimental courtesy, and monetary support for good that day.
When I arrived for the scheduled appointment a week later, I saw Joe’s vehicle. I parked nearby surprised that he found me and relieved to see him. I kept ignoring him for a week missing him badly. He stood up as I entered the waiting room and gave me a hug. To my endless questions about how he found me, he was responding with a quiet smile. He smelled chic and comfort. I missed it.
          I’ll speak to them about your vehicle, do not want them to rip you off, honey.
          Thank you, Joe. Thank you for being my friend  I was happy, the estimate they gave me over the phone was ridiculously high, he was taking the huge burden off my shoulders.
I saw them both discussing the repair of my vehicle. That young guy looked visibly smaller and not that attractive any longer. His servile movements and apologetic smiles as he was trying to explain the reason for charging me that much entirely destroyed the whole sex appeal. I was no longer impressed by the low-educated immaturity in a dirty uniform and glad I did not cross Joe out of my life.
          You were hiding from me, what is going on babe? Did I do something wrong?  – Joe was sincerely worried and I smiled back
          I was very busy and tired, really appreciate your help
          When shall I see you again?
I started packing my bathing suits for the Elysium report. I was not ready to give up on Joe. I needed Greg in the my life. No text, no phone call, nothing. It was the time for push-ups. Increasing 50 boy-push-ups to 70. Defined arms, lovely tummy, and physical pain and exhaustion – the best way to stop thinking about someone who is no longer in my life.