i am a room full of chairs (a poem)
and in this place
there are many comfy spots
for reading
kissing
writing
but no place for
cats
bad attitudes
enemies
i have graduated
to independence
from negativity
shame
anger
longing
unrest
out here we is stoned
immaculate
breathing with ease
holding nothing
embracing everything
even the hard stuff
loss
weight
as a gift
letting go of her
was the easiest thing
11-09-21
slipping into something more comfortable (a poem)
i am still uncertain of my steps
one move forward
one blistering explosion of distress
a kiss with intention
may lead to a lifetime of promise
adventure
holding the firm confident hand of my lover
or
something completely different
how do we know
how does “i love you” come into frame
when is it okay to hope for future plans
when does “staying in the present moment”
become an avoidance
an escape from the heady work
of declaring your love BIG
deleting all the apps and passwords
leading to the options and rabbit holes
of other potential partners
we are here now
there is nothing more than your breath
on my neck
your timid words of assurance
and the ask
the pressure
the holding of space
for
LOVE
to enter
in glory and flaming red sparks
to enlighten or ignite
there is no in-between
there is only ON
or BURNED UP
i want you
i pray that it will work out
as I press into your thigh
and ask for permission
to believe
in your smile
in the promise of your kiss
in all the things we both claim to want
if the seeking is over
what will we do next
try not to fk it up
pause at the edge of the unknown
or is it time to jump
in
this time
forever
11-1-21
she sets herself on fire (a poem)
the moment arrived
and all was not well
not as it seemed
just minutes before
as tears cascaded
between us
i could feel a part of me
leaving the room
leaving her
leaving the beautiful dream
of her
10-27-21
man under water (a poem)
the smoky morning rains have arrived
to remind me of the loss and emptiness
of this moment
as i repose in a new venue
rebuilding
resetting myself
my love
my energies and trajectories
towards higher love
higher ground
higher callings
that still respond to the desire
and the aspirational quest
for a partner
a forever home
to rise and celebrate the suns arrival
together
holding hands
knowing
all is right
with the world
and
in
my
life
this very moment is perfect
and imperfect
i know this longing
i live in this loneliness
i celebrate this awareness
and this second
when i can pull words
out of thin and chillier air
to muse about my future lovers
my future homes
my future resting place
now
i
know
i
am
love
10-27-21
not yet here (a poem)
i’ve moved to another planet
away and out
in
over
my head
for this moment
silent in contemplation of my love
my life
my path forward
nothing is certain
futures are for fortune tellers
not for poets and singers
as i lean into the new curves
of country roads
that high beams don’t pierce
as gravel spits up beneath my wheels
i cannot slow to the speed limit
as i press into the seat
against my fear
against the door
pressures of this new flight path
my co-pilot is still missing in action
awaiting the all-clear
listening for some true calling
some push out of the pause
and into a freefall of desire
and winter fires
under heavy blankets
seeking a home within a home
this is my beginning
this is an ending of a long journey
an arrival
a heartbreaking moment of joy
and ghosts
no moment is more important than the next
and my heart is aching for the fine edge
the razor of desire
has wreaked loss
abandonment
hopelessness
and dark nights of the soul
winding down to the dead-end street
of this love
restless and ready
and
still
beside someone
arriving
not yet here
10-19-21
limitless (a poem)
an opening is becoming
moments together
that bring limitless joy
both thrilling and comforting
and a breath in each other’s arms
is a lifetime of what has been missing
all this time
all these days and nights
of seeking and resetting expectations
become stillness
a point in time
with you
is
10-16-21
just press play (a poem)
here we are
moment by moment
there are feelings of joy
exhilaration and madness
when the universe says: go
there is a tendency to press pause
as the feels wash over our bodies
a signal of truth or danger
internal radar scanning the horizon
pushing our pulse up nicely
our eyes sparkle with adventure
seeking the soft landing
the easy target
the vulnerable prey
the source of our affection
has mysteriously arrived
ready and quivering to join up
sync hearts and schedules
when she says yes
the choice will be binary
yes or no
breathe easy
pay close attention to your internal signals
join networks
enter encrypted passwords
show activity
open to the fall and the flight
that comes with elation
as alignments build towards escape velocity
this is your moment
what you’ve been seeking
let go of expectations and preconceptions
ask for the yes to enter fully
into both of your lives
it’s go time
jump out of the plane
into the unknown freefall
let go
be
here
now
just press play
9/16/21
+++
Negotiating Love and Desire: Dating as a Healing Journey
There’s a great moment in the first season of HBO’s House of Cards, where the young female reporter is talking to a date as they get out of a taxi. “Oh, you thought you were going to get laid?” she said to the young man. “I’m sorry, but if I was going to fuck you, you’d already know.”
Crushing.
Women, do you know? And if you know, could you let us men know?
It seems like navigating sex is a huge disconnect between men and women. Men are like hunters, we’re trained to track, approach, and go for the close. We are hunting for sex, in some form or another, even if we’re just out for a date. At some level, we are negotiating for sex. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but there it is.
Women, it is said, are negotiating for love. But it has been revealed lately, that women desire sex with the same hunger as men. However, the social morals look down upon aggressive and libidinous women. And as the idea goes, rather than going to a bar to pick up a man, they go across the street to get batteries.
“So where are we?” It’s kind of embarrassing to ask. It makes us both feel like youngsters. And if it’s a miss, it really makes us men feel small when we put it out there and get shot down. So can we come to an understanding on this? Can you let us know sooner? Can you telegraph the signals more clearly? I’m doing my best, as a representative of my male counterparts, to be clear.
It’s like the end of the first date, the “hello” date, when you are wrapping up… If you have to ask, perhaps the signals have been mixed. When the YES is big enough, you don’t have to ask. There’s a feeling between the two of you, that says, “What’s next?” At least that’s what you hope for.
I’m less experienced at the YES.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
back to On Dating section
Related posts:
- Burn the Maps! Do You Think You Know About Dating After Divorce?
- Online Dating Undercover Revelations: OK Cupid (Pt. 1)
- All Kinds of Women and the Sparks of Desire
- Little Turnoffs: On a First Date with a Woman
- Agua y besos: How Do We Gain So Much Energy from Love?
- The Sensual and the Sexual: Dating After Divorce
- Divorced and Dating Again: What’s the Worst That Could Happen?
image: Love, Juliana Coutinho, creative commons usage
Sexual Energy and the Power of #Desire in Men and Women
I have no authority to write this post, and perhaps it will piss some people off, but I’ve been thinking a lot about sexual energy and the power of desire. Let me explain. As human animals, specifically men, we have been told we are programmed by our sexual desire to be in continuous pursuit for a sexual partner. It’s animal, we’re trying to reproduce and ensure the continuation of our genes. And this sexual pursuit is hard-wired into our brain and body. And from what I experience of my own behavior and fantasies this appears to be true. To a point.
I do love looking at women. Men, not so much. And I do enjoy seeing young, fit, attractive women as well. But they are not sexual objects to me. They are not targets for my affection, they are merely beautiful creations to be appreciative of. The same way I admire a Ferrari. I don’t want a Ferrari, and I don’t really want any of the young women sexually, but they are both amazing to look at. Is this the same thing?
What makes “people watching” so fascinating? I think it is the flow of human beauty that we enjoy looking at. Again, we might initially be more drawn to the fertile and nubile of our human tribe, but this gut reaction is not all about sex. And one thing I’ve noticed about myself, even when I’m sexually depleted, having zero sexual energy, I’m still attracted to watching the flow of women passing by. What could that be about? It’s not about passing my seed, unless this is an unconscious drive, and that’s Freud’s assumption. But it is something sexual. I’m not drawn to men in the same way. Still, I find it fascinating, that even when I have no sexual energy or passion, my mind still get’s “up” for a pretty woman.
As it stands, I’m not in the market for a lover. I have two children, so I’m not in need of procreation. And yet, women, the female form, fascinates me. Is the unconscious hard-wiring that strong? It’s as if I can’t look away without effort. And my attention is not only on the youngest and fittest. In fact, most of the young women resonated with thoughts of my daughter and are actually less interesting for that reason. And maybe that’s the crux. “For that reason” does point towards some sort of sexual tension.
And coming from a man’s perspective, I’m curious if women approach people watching from a similar perspective? I’ve read that women don’t feel sexual energy the same way men do, something about testosterone, but I’ve also read that we underestimate the sexual desire in women due to social mores. I can see how a man might be more driven, if you will forgive my pun, for release. And women might be more driven by security and power. But is that just clichéd thinking? Do women view attractive men in a less sexual manner?
I’m sure there is a difference in the chemistry of men’s and women’s bodies. And I’m sure that testosterone has a role in that “drive” towards sexual fulfillment. But I’m curious, for a population in their 40s – 50s, with “families” already established if the sexual drive is more similar in men and women? Do we both enjoy the sexual thoughts that come from people watching? Aren’t we essentially doing the same thing? Asking that tried and true question of our inexperienced, and pre-family youth, “Would ya do them?”
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
image: frame rate, creative commons usage
The Divorced Dad and the Goodbye Monday Blues
Divorce is about goodbyes. Goodbyes you never thought you’d be saying. Instead of everyday, like I imagined, I only see my kids 10 out of the 30 days in an average month. That’s a lot of time without their smiling faces. And when you’re the off parent, it’s a lot of time alone.
In the spaces between being dad I learned to reinvest in myself. I healed from my sadness and divorce by writing, exercising, and living through it.
|
Today I’m in a much better place with it, but it’s never easy. I miss them. And I’m amazed when days go by without even a text or Snapchat. But they’re teenagers and doing their own thing. I get it. Still, it’s a heartbreaking situation for someone who’s emotionally open and connected. I suppose there a people who are more business like about it, but I’m a card-carrying member of the attachment parenting movement, and perhaps the attachment is just as strong both ways.
I’ve been a divorced dad for almost seven years and I’m still going through empty nest syndrome. Perhaps this is one of the gifts of divorce, the real empty nest won’t be so hard for me, since I’ve been 2/3 empty already. But the gift is a painful one.
On Monday mornings, at the end of my four-day run with the kids, I drop them off at school and then return to my old house and drop off their bags. Early on in the divorce this was hugely depressing. Everything about it brought back the pain. My old house. Dropping them at school knowing I wouldn’t see them for several days. And that one day thing on the off week is pretty hard too, but drop off Mondays were really a bitch.
Just this past Monday I had a moment of sadness and overwhelm. There were a lot of other pressures that converged on this particular Monday, but something about the drop off really struck a deep chord of pain in me. There’s no explaining it. I used to get sad sometimes dropping them off at day care when I was going to see them that same night. I miss my kids. I like to hear about their day (what they’ll tell me) and their ambitions for whatever. Being around them in their daily activities is a joy.
Today, I’m glad I have the time to devote to all the messy loveliness of being in a relationship again. I’m engaged to be married and very happy about life.
|
The only tonic to this sad dance is picking up your own life and moving on. In the spaces between being dad I learned to reinvest in myself. I healed from my sadness and divorce by writing, exercising, and living through it. And I continue to work on myself outside of my relationships, doing the emotional excavation to understand my sadness.
I was asked by a friend the other day what was the hardest part of divorce, losing my primary relationship or losing my kids? Kids. It wasn’t even close. Maybe that’s still some of the anger of the divorce talking, but I could imagine myself without my ex-wife, I could not imagine my life without my kids. It’s not that I’m living for or through them. But your love for your kids is something unlike any other relationship. There’s no explaining this to someone without kids. It simply doesn’t compute.
Today, I’m glad I have the time to devote to all the messy loveliness of being in a relationship again. I’m engaged to be married and very happy about life.
Do I still get tripped up on drop off Mondays? Yep. It’s part of the ebb and flow of life as a divorced parent. One day things seem okay and the next day the universe is split in two: time with your kids and time without them. I’ll take what I can get and do the best I can in that time. The rest is up to me.
Respectfully,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to Single Parenting
related posts:
- The Long Tail of Parenting and Custody After Divorce
- When Will I Get Over My Divorce?
- The Divorce Part You’ll Never Understand: Living Within the Compromise
- I Want To Thank You for the Divorce
image: kids at play, creative commons usage
alone for the day
[from strange horizons poems]
even the cold here is love
you are as close as bye
maybe sleeping
maybe leading a room of sleepers
maybe i’m dreaming this
you
us
how would i know
what point in time would waking deliver?
no one can translate the french
i don’t need words
only sounds
and this perfect glass of water
to remember
our triumphant
hello
just over a year ago
has the dream continued to rise all this time?
and the love
continued unabated and strong
how can i comprehend
this warmth you have wrapped around me?
and these dreams
made real
2-25-16
i can only tell you how much i love you in two languages
[from strange horizons poems]
it’s not enough
i know this
words don’t contain enough life, love, living…
they are just here
on the page
crying out to be with you
in you
feeling what it feels like to be next to you
i would give this second
and every one after it
to find my way back to your side
at this moment
you are moments away
and still
i can tell something is missing
as if a part of me
is strapped on your back
in your backpack
as you rush up the escalator
and into your day job
meetings
i will hold
this space
this empty joy
alone
until you return
and give me
back the piece
or at least rejoin
my heart
together
with
you
2-25-16
loving you in many distant cities
[from strange horizons poems]
as we rush apart
finding our niche
and comfort
to prepare a kiss
a pressed hand
a longing from across the room
i see
and miss you
immediately
knowing you are mine
here
and just a heartbeat away
and still i crave
your laugh
and sparkle
returning
soon
returning
forever
returning
joy
2-25-16
Who Is The Off Parent
He is learning to be a single dad.
He is trying to be a better man.
He is happy and mad all at once.
He is divorced and recovering himself from the wreckage that was created.
He is depressed but working on it.
He is overweight and under appreciated.
He is trying again.
He is not to be fucked with.
He is looking out for the best interest of his kids, sometimes even before himself.
He is sad about how things went down.
He is hiding out from time to time when things get hard.
He is a gift.
He is telling his story to the furthest depth he can.
He is openly admitting he is wrong and makes mistakes.
He is taking a fearless moral inventory.
He is alive and well.
He is the best dad he can be.
He is never giving up on having a cordial and sane relationship with his ex-wife, even when she frequently makes it difficult.
He is starving for more time with his kids.
He is an engaged father to an incredible son.
He is a dad who believes father-daughter relationships set the tone for his daughter’s future relationships.
He is not afraid to dance or make mistakes.
He is laughing.
He is here now, writing these words, hoping that you take away some ideas and moments of hope.
He believes in you and your struggle to be a parent, both men and women.
He loves moms.
He supports dads.
He holds his children as long as they will stand still.
He knows the children will leave the nest, and there are not enough hours between now and then to satisfy his expressions of love.
He loves a new woman.
He is hopeful for whatever comes next.
He believes his ex-wife is a loving and strong mother. She’s 50% of the reason the kids are cool.
He believes he was the better half in the divorce.
He believes child support should be mutual and 50/50.
He believes the court system is stacked against dads from the beginning. He also believes this rigid rule is changing.
He supports your healing and wellbeing.
He is doing this for you.
He is writing this because he can’t stop.
He professes deep and unending love to others all the time.
He says, “I love you” all the time.
He is the best dad on the planet.
He is becoming a better parent every day.
He is a believer in dreams and true love.
He is a poet.
He requires no permission or appreciation.
He loves himself.
He knows how to show happiness.
He can tell you what love tastes like.
He is here.
He is you.
He is all of us.
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to Single Parenting
related posts:
mvd2.0
[from strange horizons poems]
something about your heart doesn’t make sense
a desire beyond all desires
a part of your soul you don’t understand
but are drawn to
the thrill, the chase, the capture,
the loss, the love, the sadness
it’s all in there at the beginning
and if you spot the one you’re looking for
no amount of distress or baggage
will keep you from
giving it your best shot
communicating freely
loving wildly
being reckless
bold
don’t hold back when the winds of love arrive
the storm approaches and you can lean in
or run with the dust and rain
ours is the way of brave things
kisses like arrows of fate and joy and excess
piercing the veil
of loneliness
hope
and
desire
the poetry of desire has created the maelstrom
a belief in myself
in my power to call in what the universe demands
of lovers
and answering the call
who am i to hesitate
when the time opens up and says forever
i am good to go
perhaps for a year
perhaps for a lifetime
i have only lived this far
i do not know
but i feel
you have awakened the life in me
of potential and possibilities
lying together
side by side
strokes and cuddles
smiles
and groans
as we seek the hand
push back against the night
with laughter
longing
and
full
fill
ment
of
the
we
2-5-16
Little Ghosts Still Flutter My Heart
The depression was a killer. (As depression is actually a killer.) But in my case, it was almost too hard to manage. Somehow, I managed. My fiance said during one of our walks up a very steep hill, “You’re either going to make it up the hill, or die.” It was a pretty good metaphor for depression. Even when the hill feels insurmountable, you have a couple of choices: deal with it as best you can, call 911, jump off the nearest radio tower.
I don’t talk to anyone or tell them where I’m going, or what’s wrong. I simply leave and hide. It’s a terrible coping mechanism for an adult.
|
I can recall that when I was between 5 and 7 years old, I used to have fantasies about the very high radio towers that were near our house. When I was feeling particularly bad about my parents divorce, or my perceived shun of a cute girl at school, I imagined myself plummeting from the top of one of the towers. How sad everyone was going to be. How if they had known they would’ve loved me like they should. How if my parents had really cared about me they would’ve stayed together and my father would’ve stopped drinking. That’s not how it happened. Fortunately that’s not how I chose to deal with it either.
One of the ways, in my young, sad, and confused times, I dealt with being overwhelmed with sadness was by climbing up the forested hill in my back hard and building rock and stick forts. I would construct a shelter, sharpen sticks for weapons, and typically freeze my ass off. I’m not sure why it is always winter in my forted memories, but perhaps that’s more mythology than truth. I’m sure I had many overwhelming moments (dad yelling) in the heat of the summer as well, but for some reason in my mythical fort I am also freezing.
As an adult, I sometimes find myself behaving like this young boy. I isolate just as I did in my fort. I don’t talk to anyone or tell them where I’m going, or what’s wrong. I simply leave and hide. It’s a terrible coping mechanism for an adult, but when my brain has begun to shut down and get hopeless, my thoughts quickly turn to how I can kill all my plans and stay in bed. This probably sounds very weird and juvenile to anyone who hasn’t dealt with depression, but something happens, and the “rise and shine” of life becomes “duck and cover.”
As the most stabilizing force in my life, this woman leaned in, continued to tell me she loved me, and continued to ask me to go walking, every – single – day.
|
And this isolation technique didn’t work any better as a small child. I would hide, cry, defend against my feelings, alone in the stone fort. I would wait for the yelling to die down, perhaps a car to speed off, or darkness and quiet to descend before I went back into the house. In the past few months I was dead set on getting out of all obligations beyond work, feeding myself, and feeding my kids and getting them to school when they were with me. But a beautiful thing happened and continued to happen.
My fiance stayed beside me. She asked me to go on walks, to play tennis, to eat good food. She carried on conversations between us when I was in STFU mode. And to her credit, she took nights and time off for her own rejuvenation. But she never abandoned me. In my little boy brain, that can emerge during depression, I was abandoned by my dad with his anger and drinking, and ultimately when he left the house in my parents divorce. In my small mind, I was also abandoned by my mom who didn’t come rescue me up in my rock fort. So I’m looking for signs of being abandoned during these down periods. And this loving woman, and still-new relationship, stayed solid. I tried to tell her what was going on. I tried to include her in some of the decisions I was making about meds and strategies. And she hung in there.
As the most stabilizing force in my life, this woman leaned in, continued to tell me she loved me, and continued to ask me to go walking, every – single – day.
I remember a conversation with my therapist at one point, “No one else is willing to spend that much time with you being with you. She must really care about you.” The logic held. The relationship weathered a massive structural change, and we continued to work, love, and play together as best we could.
I’m pretty sure it’s the hope I am currently running on that allows me to smile at this ghost rather than get afraid.
|
Now on the other side of this event, the two of us are starting to sort through more of the details and stories behind what was going on. We are celebrating the emerging laughter and ideas that are beginning to come out of my mouth. And through it all she never stopped kissing me, or asking for me to join her on trips, walks, “adventures.” And I kept saying, “Of course,” even when I meant, “No fking way!” And 95% of the time I got up and out of my pit and went for a walk up the torturous hills behind a spry woman who was leaping and chattering ahead of me.
Even as I am coming out of it, I can still feel some of the residual effects of the last few months. There’s an anxiety that pops up, often at night before bed, that worries about some future event. “What if it returns? And comes back right now, just as I’m getting some of my joy back?”
For these little flutters I’m stopping and recognizing them. I am almost waving at the anxious flutter to acknowledge my current state of mind, and the careful balance that will keep me from slipping back down. I say a few Serenity Prayers and a few gratitude prayers of thanks, and then I move on. I’m pretty sure it’s the hope I am currently running on that allows me to smile at this ghost rather than get afraid.
For me depression is a lot about getting afraid and then continuing to listen to the fear more than the present. I’ve used some mantras during my walks that have seemed to push me up the hills with more energy and joy. “Further, Stronger, Healthier, and Happier.”
That’s how I move up the hills even when I don’t want to. There’s something to be gained from all this hard work. I can’t always get there, but with my ally, I am given the opportunity to show up even when I want to run away. I have to keep showing up.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to The Hard Stuff posts
may i be gentle always
[from the collection nyc m]
may i be gentle always with you
as i cradle your hand in mine
to support your living dreams
and dreams yet unborn
enthusiasms come and go
i stay steady as a sunbeam
warming at the touch
giving you a lift
stroke
glass of water
kiss
7-7-15
I Want To Thank You for the Divorce
It’s already sounding snarky to me, but I have to give thanks to the mother of my children for releasing me from a marriage that had grown unbalanced and unhappy. She pulled the trigger and set the separation in motion long before I was willing or able to admit we were done. But we were. Kind of.
I was not done, but I was very unhappy. As an eternal optimist I trained myself over the course of our marriage to sublimate the desire for sex or the desire for joy. I was a good husband and a good provider. But I was not good at just going through the motions. We described the last year of our marriage as “living like roommates.” I was unhappy about this, she was more matter-of-fact. Things weren’t living up to her satisfaction, why would she continue to have intimate relations with someone she no longer loved.
As I took matters into my own hands and forgave her for some loss of libido, I was also beginning to feel a bit hopeless about my ability to remain centered and happy. Of course, I was already way off-balance, but I didn’t know this. I thought I was being the honorable and stable one. What I was being was stoic and stubborn. I should’ve called for a time out or a pow wow long before we reached the D stage. But I didn’t.
I’ve learned I’m what’s called “conflict adverse.” If I can avoid a fight I will. I will hide certain facts (like a speeding ticket or bounced check) in order to not “get into it.” But this sort of behavior, even as small as it was, was maddening to my then-wife. She had trust and security issues. And any minor infraction of this “trust issue” as it became known in our counseling sessions was met with cynicism and “you will never change.”
In therapy we seemed to focus on me and my issues. She kept bring us back to some crisis of trust. Over and over.
|
The problem was our relationship while built on the desire to have kids was not strong enough to build and rebuild once the kids reached school age. While I was always pursuing my creative crafts (writing, music, blogging) my then-wife had put most of her artistic ambitions in the closet, right behind the vacuum cleaner. She became more obsessed with the cleanliness of the living room and less interested in the connectedness of our relationship. How could someone you love be okay with going a month without sex? I was astounded and hurt that we had reached such a distant state. I asked for therapy, and contributed actively to the rebuilding idea, but something was not working.
In therapy we seemed to focus on me and my issues. I suppose, due to my bouts of depression, I allowed this to happen, even when the issues, in my eyes, were more emotional. She kept bring us back to some crisis of trust. Over and over. A little thing, a receipt from a restaurant that I forgot to report on my company expense report for reimbursement could become a “thing.” And the issues continued to grab the lion share of our therapy sessions. Meanwhile we were sleeping in different beds about 90% of the time and my suggestions at intimacy were rejected by habit.
As our emotional life was being crushed we were counseling about “trust issues” and my “mental health.” Of course, my depressions had been awful, and I have nothing but respect for this woman who stood by me through the worst of it. I also began to believe that she might never return to her happy state. She might never joyfully suggest sex or show up in the hallway in matching bra and panties. She was somewhere else emotionally. She was packing her bags as she was hammering me about my next job and when the new insurance would kick in from the new job.
She’s laughed with me at the stupid complications my ex-wife has injected into my life through litigation. We laugh a lot.
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Today, almost six years later, I can say, I am very happy and very sexual in my new relationship. And while we’ve got our work ahead, I have to acknowledge that something is very different about how we relate to each other. For one thing we BOTH really like sex, and we BOTH seek out that connection. (Who knew that the best sex was ahead?) AND we seem to have both gotten our emotional and psychological issues mapped out enough to related on a very open and honest level.
She’s seen me depressed. She didn’t freak out or run away. She’s seen my financial status vacillate from AWESOME to BROKE and back. And she’s laughed with me at the stupid complications my ex-wife has injected into my life through litigation. We laugh a lot.
And on my part, I’ve seen things in her that were a bit different from what I imagined. I had developed the idea that only a mother would have the skills and empathy to understand my own kids. What I didn’t know at that time, was how complete this woman could be with her life and her choices and how she could WANT my kids in her life, even if she didn’t have any kids of her own. In fact, the non-kid aspect made our early courtship a lot easier as we merely coordinated around MY kid schedule.
Today, I can openly give thanks to my ex-wife for giving me the opportunity to seek and find a different kind of love. And I look forward to build a new life around and with my kids and this wonderful new partner.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to Single Parenting
related posts:
- The Off Parent: You Won’t Believe How Good It Can Get
- Things Broken and Unsaid
- My Urban Fit Uber-cute Couple Bias
- Evolving Single Dad: Failure to Hopefulness Again
image: breakfast in bed, nyc, 2015, cc the author, creative commons usage
along the beach
[from strange horizons poems]
as her hand entwines with mine
i can see and taste the future joy
as an unending laugh
or ecstatic embrace
even as the sand is coarse beneath my feet
i know the softness of her love
the way she has cracked open my
everything
even things I did not know
have split open in loving her
the salt of her skin
the heat of the sun
still radiating from her chest
as she arcs into me
with
one
clear
yes
all in the clasp of her fingers
the squeeze and tickle
home i feel
beside her
inside
and outside
and along side
her
and her big heart
worn in plain view
with a quirky smile
and sparkling mischievous eyes
she has captured me back
taken some dream
and brought my little boy to life
and she holds tightly
and pulls us along the beach
faster
more joy
more love
more sun
if it feels like too much
at some moment
i pause
she stands steadfast
manifesting all she promises
adoring with intention
to be here
be present
and bask in some mutual
glow
this is everything
this moment
begins with each breath
as we walk together down the beach
once lost and alone
now full and close under the solstice moon
walking in nyc
[from the collection nyc m]
and in the million faces passing
there are beautiful women
and how different
how joyous i am to see them
not for hunger
but for confirmation
that my love
the very love
holding my hands
is the love of my life
there is such a difference
when a man is hungry
vs
satiated
satisfied
and humbled by the love
that transcends beautiful faces
and the calm
in my heart
now
relaxing in the warmth
afterglow
that never ends
6-23-15