The Taste of Tail Feathers Again – The Online Dating Breakdown
Oh online dating, I hate you.
I’m not sure if I have an accurate picture of myself or my desired match. I mean, most times I think I have a pretty good handle on it. And then someone comes along and resets the markers and my own understanding has to be reevaluated. But I am learning, I think. Let’s recount a recent “Oh yeah” for me that seemingly has become a near miss.
First me. Let’s see. I think I’ve set out my parameters pretty well. And the fact that she connected with me through my other 100% positive parenting blog, and through my post on what a single dad wants in his next relationship, well, let’s just say my best foot was forward on the mechanics of dating. (But I still have really had only one post-divorce experience, so far, so I realize I don’t have all that much actual information.)
And after she requested a “friend” on Facebook, citing mutual friends (25) and at least something that she must’ve seen in my public profile, we jumped into a fun banter. So she wrote a nice, “Hey we should be friends since we’re…” And it was a wonderful jolt to wake up on Dia de Los Muertos with a very attractive princess (Halloween costume) saying she’d read my single-dad post and wanted to be friends.
Of course, I accepted the friend request. And then the romantic madness ensued. (Mostly driven by me, but that’s okay, writing is what I do.)
Letting the banter run wild we chatted on FB over the course of the entire day. And things, on my end, could not have gone better. The more we chatted the more we seemed to have things in common. A quick wit and quick qwerty-fingers. It was a thrill. Like a first date. Almost. From her side, she said very encouraging things. And at one point asked, “Even if we hate each other once we meet, can we still be friends on Facebook, I would hate to lose this banter.”
She got it. But… She was also getting it. Somewhere along this path, I was letting my heart get involved. Even knowing the romance was pure fantasy, what a thrill to find a mutual attraction of the minds that seemed to expand and continue over the course of an entire day. And even after negotiating a Saturday afternoon meetup, I was hungry for her. Uh oh.
But I have learned a bit about this before. So I did my thing. I read. Wrote. And social media-ed. And since I had my kids that night, I didn’t have too much time to dig into her profile before taking my kids to breakfast in the morning and delivering them to their mom’s house and it was off to the “coffee date,” meet up, first face-to-face encounter. I kept my calm about me. Sat by the front of the cool coffee shop and waited.
Now, here’s where I’m going to reveal some of my vulnerabilities. She came in and said “Hi.” We did a simple hug. And she was going to order something to drink. In that first few moments, watching her at the counter ordering coffee, I observed myself taking her all in. Jeans and comfy shoes, very nice lines, well within my happy zone. I was struck by how easily I qualified her by her appearance. I liked the look of her right away.
And when she came to the table, and we chatted for two hours, I was no less intrigued and fascinated. Again I was trying to observe my reactions in a more objective way. She had amazing eyes of blue, something I noticed immediately in her photographs. And a wicked smile, that I kept sort of staring at, imagining, going there. (Oops.) And her shirt and the shape of her neck as it entered the simple thermal shirt. Yep, my brain said, she’s in.
And while I was trying to show my most charming side, I’m not sure I was getting the pickup or resonance I was hoping for. I am still not sure, but I could almost feel her first scan when I stood up to greet her. Again, I’m making this up, but I felt like she took me in from running shoes to shorts, to black t-shirt and then to my smile, all in the course of 30 seconds. And maybe that was all it took, maybe she was/is playing demure. But here’s what happened next…
We headed out to the cars, saying goodbye and such. And rather than the “what’s next” vibe, I got, “Well, I’d like to hear your song, sometime.”
It wasn’t the BINGO I was hoping for. And I am certain I was aglow. In reviewing my own behavior and expectations, I was at the top of my form. Maybe my form didn’t meet her expectations or projections from our Facebook romance. Maybe it’s as simple as that.
All systems go, all hearts and minds engaged, and you meet and nothing. (groan)
But, playing it cool, I wanted to make sure I was not over-thinking. I didn’t really have a roadmap for what it would look like if she were 100% aflame as well. But that’s what I was hoping for. I don’t think that’s what happened.
A couple of hours later I pinged her on Facebook just checking in.
“Just let me know, and do you want to get together tomorrow sometime?”
Her response took 3 hours and it was kind of obtuse. As if she didn’t understand what I was saying. A very different voice from the engaging romantic she had cooked up in my mind during our first 24-hours as FB friends. Okay, no worries, perhaps she’s being conservative. Perhaps she doesn’t know what to expect either.
I switched gears in my response the next day. “So do you get your son today or tomorrow?”
And this response was even more off. “Tomorrow, but I’m going to rest today.”
And this time, for the sake of clarity and brevity I went direct. “So… That’s kinda “meh”. Am I getting that right?”
She seemed to misunderstand. “Meh?”
“I was trying to get a read on if you were interested in getting together again. Perhaps I’m being dense. I enjoyed your company yesterday and would like to see you again if desire and time allows. No hurry.”
And here’s where the mystery begins and ends. “I would definitely really love to be friends and then see what goes from there.”
And I dropped the thread with an affirmation of this sentiment. But that’s not what I was looking for. The responses had become hours in return. When we were flirting the responses were fast and flighty. So…
I think the message was clear. At some very early moment in our meeting, I did not meet some parameter of hers. All that built up energy and romantic charge didn’t offset or live up to whatever she had hoped I would look like.
I went to the well on this one and asked GF #1 about it.
“So, in this current situation… I simply wait it out, right? Any signal from me would be over-reaching? Seems to weird not to say “hello” today, but I think she needs to feel like she’s in control. She initially reached out to me. If she was “meh” then she won’t. If she was “maybe” then she will. But I think I have responded to her favorable statement, and now I drop the line and let her run until she realizes she’s missing me in the same way she was missing someone before I ever showed up. Is that right? Would you feel pressured if your spark followed up too quickly?”
GF #1 said that her gut-read was cautious rather than “friend zone” but she liked the idea of letting her line run.
So that’s where I am. I’ll invite her to coffee today.
What I learned.
- I am a powerful romantic and do enjoy the flight of romance that can happen via online connections.
- I have pretty distinct evaluation criteria that can only be decided in-person.
- Too much pre-roll romance wastes a lot of energy if there’s not a match.
- My disappointment at feeling the match and not having it reciprocated, is still hard.
- Less fantasy, less striving, more walking and playing music.
- Move along.
Update: After finishing a nice long walk I had a few additional observations on my most recent fishing expedition. I got some jazz from the connection, generated two poems from it, and got to feel my heart get all big again. Nice. I also got a bit of a hangover when the resonance did not match what I was hoping for. And now… I’m waiting for her FB response? Um, no. That’s the miss. While I did offer coffee today, my guess is her response will be lukewarm. And unless I press the date, it probably won’t happen. Sad, but true. A waste of energy? Not really. A new learning? In theory, but we’ll see the next time a princess shows up at my door. Moving forward, onward, and upward. You’ve got to turn over a lot of rocks to find the diamond, I guess. And of the three YES-vibes, I got upon meeting a first date, this was the furthest I’d gone down the projection path, with all the mutual banter between us. Perhaps I should’ve focused more on my work that day, or the song that was trying to be born. Either way, I’m not unhappy with the results, just disappointed at yet one more grab and miss. But at least the promise of a YES is still out there.
A poem upon getting her hello on FB: arriving at any time (I shared this one with her,” a poem is a poem, you know.”)
A poem upon sensing the miss or possible caution: let’s pretend nothing sparked (I did not share this one, directly)
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to On Dating Again index
related posts:
- A Little Sex Talk About Dating Divorced Moms
- The Six Rules of Online Dating: Seeking Chemistry and Everything Else
- The Relationship Strategy: Moving Beyond Divorce
- Dating Part-time After Divorce: I Get It, It Is Hard To Make Time
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
image: a random capture off the web
shimmer
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
it’s not just everything about her
i know so little
it’s not the wisp of hair
the light
the breast and belly
it’s not all those things
it might be what she is looking at
that i cannot see
it might be the hope
she is looking for someone
i know it is a photograph
i know she is not real
in this moment of light
and promise
and poem
i know
and i wander
into the folds
and shimmer
11-4-12
A Little Sex Talk About Dating Divorced Moms
[This post was written as a response to a post on the Divorced Moms blog called Divorced Sex – Getting Back In the Game and for some reason my comment was never posted and my account seems to have been deleted… Hmmm. Is it something I said?]
Single Dad Seeking Divorced Moms.
|
We’re adults now. Sex is serious. If it’s not, and you run closer to Samantha from Sex in the City, the safety rules definitely apply.
|
Sex with an Ex. Um, I hope you’re talking about ex-BFs and not the ex-husband. If you really want to get some confusing reverberations going in your mind and body, sleeping with your recently divorced partner would be just about the best/worst way to do it. But I’m gonna skip this one, for me, the ex-wife is off limits even for fantasy. There is no amount of … I don’t really need to qualify this.
Online Dating: Is not really dating. It’s only dating when you finally meet in-person. Everything else, all the lead-up is romantic BS, more like poetry than real-life. And I’m as guilty as anyone of fueling engagement before ever setting eyes on the actual person. Nobody can really live up to those expectations you created in your mind. Online dating is really for meeting in-person. The “online” part is filled with false projections, both intentional and accidental.
Sexting? Is that even a thing? Really? Flirting via text goes right up there with online dating. Same filters apply. Everything else is porn. And porn has its place. It’s safe, quick, and easy. And one odd point stands out in your post, “how you’d feel if you were the spouse finding out about online indiscretions.” I’m thinking this is mixed up. Because if you’re divorced, you don’t have a spouse. And if you’re talking about sexting with a married man, you’ve got a whole additional layer of baggage that goes beyond the scope of your post. So let’s say Sexting = BS, behave accordingly. Porn = Have Fun, but it doesn’t really get us closer to sex, does it?
Casual Relationship Sex – Or “Third Date Sex.” Well, I don’t know about those milestones, but I do know the first time a woman wanted to spend the night at my house it was a bit a mind-warp. And it ended up being a three-month relationship. But I wasn’t ready for the sleepover for a while. And as far as third-date and IN, I’m not a big fan. I like the idea, occasionally, but I think way too much spiritual and emotional stuff gets stirred up for me to have “casual” sex with someone I’ve met within the week. And sure, first date sex sounds about as appealing as getting drunk and explaining why you did it, as in NOT.
We’re adults now. Sex is serious. If it’s not, and you run closer to Samantha from Sex in the City, the safety rules definitely apply. But I’d suggest you deal with the hunger and drive towards sex first, and wait until you meet a man who has some potential as a partner before rushing into bed.
That’s just me, of course, but I think we all need to be talking about sex more openly. It’s still hard to talk about, so thank you for providing the dialogue.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to On Dating Again index
related posts:
- 5 Wonderful and Unexpected Benefits of Being a Serial Monogamist
- The Promise in a Thumbnail; Online Dating Hits and Misses
- The Honey Trap: How Beauty Can Lead Us Astray
- The Malleable Trajectory of Desire in Online Dating
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
let’s pretend nothing sparked
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
let’s pretend nothing sparked
and go on about our lives
certain that we know or don’t know
where to go from here
i’ll forget how your smile
made me feel
how I wanted to know your neck
and how, just moments before
you were simply a photograph
i’ll keep my place in line
and try not to imagine you
in the red convertible ahead
in the rain it is easier
but not easy
because i want
i want i want i want
so much
too much
that i am working on ways
to let out the line
and give you running room
and forget myself, even
for a day or so
hoping the signal
the ping, the pull
might arrive down the line
without my jerk
or tug or love poem
i am counting cycles
observing myself as a fisherman
new to the sport
and teachable
so run
live
thrive
and tomorrow
remember how i made you feel
and give a little pull
i promise not to gaff
or pull too hard
i am weaving a net in my spare time
while i am not thinking
of you
11-4-13
brightness of desire
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
the brightness of this day
could only be increased
by your smile
as my heart leaps
towards
my idea
of you
i can escape this
desire
perhaps
by not venturing
flirting and vaulting
dialing back
the intensity
but i want heat
the potential for fire
that burns away
this ache
crisps the rough edges of the past
and sands them away
with frequency
and fever
and friction
and you
the brightness of this day
alone
is still beautiful and full
and I am wondering
about you
and your fire
your heart
s
desire
11-3-13
arriving at any time
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
the heart is a bright and shining mystery
of potential to love and soar
in my clean and steady state
i listen and sound
for the edges and tempers and colors
and the join
that is sure to come
with my patience and persistence
she could be arriving at any time
even as storms and floods rage
obscuring signals
deflecting our trajectories
in the night
but seeking is also freedom
limitless and utter romance
has flavors yet unimagined
until her smile flashes
walks in the room
and says
what’s next
11-1-13
imagine this rain
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
find the relaxing place again
watching the daylight fade
together
nothing else
silence
holding hands, maybe
your smell
and smile
still visible as darkness
overwhelms
it is how i imagine
this rain
if you
were
here
10-30-13
and you are alight
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
i am holding an open door
without demands or expectations
there is joy inside and music
an easy repose and repartee
to adjust your daily muse
and moods of blue and red and black
all find voice
and comfort
it is a symphony i seek
where the orchestrations are by choice
and desire
and hope
you are invited
to begin a journey
to join in with harmonies and melody
to sing with your own voice
i listen
i have grown tired of my own solos
even as I work to keep the wind vigorous
i am ready to throw open the windows too
and let the weather change everything
push the papers, sheets, and past around
and reconfigure magic
into madness of spirit
higher and brighter
and towards a still point
of such balance
where striving stops again
you have known this peace
where ambition is paired with contentment
as best of friends
and the flex and stretch
comes from energy and joy
and you are alight
accompanied
and
easy
10-29-13
image: used via creative commons, Doorway in Muslim district in Ajmer
exquisite coffee
[from a coffee love letter – poetry]
shops
full of beautiful women
however
i need to refine my goals
a woman in *this* neighborhood
is working on perfection
not making a living
or being single
more like which lululemon color
to wear to yoga
after dropping the kids
at school
or prepping the babysitter on the RDA
of lunch
the sparkles here are real
and perhaps more like wolf traps
than ecstasies
but bound they are
to this path
of beauty
mom
of means
10-25-13
receding moon
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
she is the receding moon in a clear blue sky
influences like tides
there is light with no heat
and the whole world is opened up
with potential and promise
beauty in hope and romantic reach
waves out from my heart
heavenward and hopeful
10-24-13
image: blue sky moon used under creative commons usage
Dating Tips for Modern Adults: Texts, Facebook, Profiles, Phonecalls
It’s a lot more complex trying to figure out relationships these days, then it was before I met my ex-y. Today things like Facebook and text messages go for communications. And the signals can come from all directions. You’ve got to be a communications savvy person, or get lost. Or refuse to go “online” for your romantic prospecting. But if you’re not willing to up your online game, you’re going to be at a disadvantage.
These days phone calls are almost archaic. The dates I’ve set up over the last three years have involved only a handful of phone calls. Some never progress off the initial dating site. Others will give you a phone number as a back up, but won’t ever respond to texts. And then others…
It’s easy to get swept up in the joy of messaging as well. I’ve had a number of startup relationships that were amazing in text and not-so-much in person. And that too, is one of the problems with online dating. There is a lot of intensity and fantasy you can give into before you ever look into the other person’s eyes. There’s even a question on OK Cupid’s massive question database, “Do you think you can fall in love without ever meeting someone in person?” Really?
Let’s pull that idea apart for a second.
- Photos are not very good indicators of what a person really looks like. If they are using really old photos they could be 50 lbs heavier in real life. (It’s happened to me three times, so far. You want to ask, “Um, that photo… When was that taken?”)
- Romantic articulation is not a good indicator of a chemistry match. It’s a good indicator of a romantic writer.
- The imagination can run wild with #1 and #2. The let down can be shocking.
I have a new strategy (as of my last online dating date, two nights ago) get the texts going. And then trade selfies. This has only snipped one escalating online flirtation, but it was immediate. There is very little manipulation you can do to a selfie in most circumstances. And you want to get the raw story before committing to a date.
And dates take time. They can be fun or uncomfortable. But they are distractions, at some point, if you keep finding yourself sitting across from “what was I thinking?” more than a few times. You need to refine your criteria a bit.
Here are a couple informal tips I’ve learned so far.
- If there’s only one photo – they are probably hiding something.
- Look at all the photos. There’s usually that one photo that’s a bit more real, less romantic, than the others. You can sometimes see through the mirage of great photography in that one photo. (I only learned this after the fact. I’d go out on a date and come back home and ask “what did I miss?”)
- If they don’t have kids, they’re never going to understand me and mine.
- Look for something magical. One thing that you can really get into about the person. (Not a pretty smile.) What they do or profess to love that you also love. See if you can tease a few more details about that “concept” in your conversations via txt, email, or whatever.
- Pretty smiles are amazing. But they are not a complete package.
- Go ahead and say what you’re looking for in a relationship on your profile. I have it out there. “I’m looking for extraordinary.” I don’t want a half-charged woman. I’m not low-power or low-maintenance. I want brilliance.
- Keep plenty of time to yourself. If you are going out on dates in order to not be alone, you might look at that. You’ve got to keep refining what you want love to do, building the relationship without yourself, BEFORE you get in another relationship. Your goal should be to build on those things, not just a sexy connection.
There are a lot of ways to communicate online. If you really like this person in initial conversations, but it’s hard finding the time to date, you can ask to be “friends” on Facebook. (Another source of great REAL photos.) And don’t discount Facebook as a potential dating pool as well. Much more touchy on Facebook, to seek dates, but when there is a connection it’s easy to get a feel for what this person is into by looking at their Facebook wall. I’m happy to share mine early. I’m not trying to hide who I am. My Facebook profile is 100% public.
And it’s quite okay for them to unfriend you when they decide you’re not a fit. Don’t be offended. It’s not about picking up more Facebook friends. It’s about trying to establish a communications system between the two of you.
And finally: DON’T DATE ON FACEBOOK. Sharing your “new boyfriend” is very embarrassing when you have to go back and delete all their pictures. And those “first Ikea purchase together” photos just seem sad when you’ve known the person for two weeks. Leave your Relationship Status on Facebook as “make selection.” Nobody needs to be trolling you for dating. And you don’t need to be broadcasting to them or anyone else when you go from “In Relationship with Sandy” to “It’s Complicated” to “Single.” It embarrasses your friends for you. Just don’t do it. (Unless you’re in your twenties, then perhaps, everyone is doing it. I don’t know much about that demographic.)
It’s wild enough out there. You need to get your communications strategy in place. And then if the other person has a different pace or different style you can figure out how to adjust.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
More Posts on Dating:
- Beautiful Women and Two Cups of Coffee: How This All Got Started
- The Lover I Had This Time Last Year
- Dating Time Out: Swiping Left or Right is Wearing Me Out
- Gentle Catch and Release
- Unadulterated Love: What Is Joyful Sex?
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
The Woman Who Slept With Pitbulls
She wasn’t the first woman I’d made love to, but she was the first woman who seemed to have potential. She appeared to have her act together, and I loved her petite body. (See the beginning of the story here: Racing Into Love & Right Through the Exit)
This woman had a thing for her two pit bulls. Things at my house, seemed fairly normal, the one dog and the cat were well-behaved. At her house, the dogs ran the show. And these were some muscular dogs.
I liked them. I learned more about pitbulls in the first few hours at her house than I’d ever known about pitbulls. But it was a bit weird when they took over the bed. Sure, I like it when my little terrier cuddles up beside me in the bed, but these dogs were her sleeping companions. And there was barely enough room to squeeze in with them. And if push came to shove, it was also clear who would be injured first.
The dogs were the first sign that things might not be right in my new little love fantasy. The next sign was when we disagreed about something and she flipped right out. I think the topic was TV or reading, is one better than the other. (See she had an unabashedly heavy addiction for reality television. I even added a blurb about “if you’re really into tv” to my online dating profile after this experience.) She expressed it this way, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I was trying to say that reading was more engaging, might lead to more creative inspiration for the reader. She was simply furious. I’m not sure if she was mad that I was disagreeing with her, or if it was about her tv addiction, or maybe that her dogs really started liking me. At one point, as this first argument progressed she went upstairs in a huff. (Fury might be a better word for it.) And the male dog didn’t follow her. He stayed on the couch with his head on my lap. At one point she came down and got him.
Um… Red flag #1.
She proceeded to ratchet the argument up over the next hour or so, even though I was still trying to figure out what we were arguing about. And eventually, I left. We were planning on spending the weekend together, maybe that’s what was freaking her out, and this was a way to make sure that didn’t happen. After the anger that followed me out the door, we both needed some cooling off time. This was… say… weekend number two, mind you, pretty dang early in courtship to start blasting the other person.
We took a few days. Texted and emailed. And when Friday came around again, we made plans to have dinner. I was hopeful that the storm had passed. The email repairs, while mostly on my part, seemed to have settled things back into a cordial connection.
As dinner progressed things seemed to be a little tense, but workable. I was really interested in “relating” again after dinner. We were close to my house and perhaps…
She was talking about her grad school program and how much it was costing her trying to finish her degree. And then she said something that surprised me. “Yeah, those fucking research assistants and their grants.” I guess she was taking out a loan to get through school.
I paused. “Um, can I ask you a question?”
See already looked mad.
“So are you really angry that those people got grants. Or are you playing a sour grapes joke on me?” I thought she might have been making an odd joke. The tone of her statement was so exaggerated.
She froze and glared. I knew at that second, she had not been joking.
“I’m sorry. Did I just piss you off?”
She glared.
“I was thinking you were making a joke.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
Red flag #2. And we’re done.
She got into her car without really saying good-bye and unfriended me on Facebook about 15 minutes later. She also hid her profile from me on OK Cupid. Wow.
Beware the grad student who sleeps with pit bulls.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
image via creative commons use – pampered pitbull
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
the beat and beat and pause
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
perhaps all this fire just beneath the surface
presents me as a dangerous poet
a romantic with ocd
i can’t seem to stop the words
when i’m happy
or high
an intoxicating sheen
i try to infuse
even when i speak
i listen to the cadence
the beat and beat and pause
the heart of the words
i am trying to connect to her heart
linking us
to pull her closer
all with pause
and patience
and silence enforced
while the words pour on
i give her a rest
because
obsession is not pretty
rich romantic notions
can be unhealthy
overwhelm the fragile stability
i know
i am aware
of my own raging fires
i have learned
this venting process
10-20-13
What Is A Love Poem?
Why does love elude accurate descriptions? Why is love perhaps the most sought after ghost and the song most sung by those of us who feel?
And the love letter too. So sad that such delicate work is not more widely shared. Often the masterpiece of passion and longing is shared by only two. Is it the privacy that makes it special. Is it the voyeurism that makes them so tasty to read?
Putting love, or our fleeting attempts to capture love, is a grand tradition. I am doing nothing unique or especially different. Of course, my word stream for it will be different from yours. Do you let yours out? If you gave expression to a love poem, right now, what would that sound that ringing of letters tell about your feelings.
Each love poem is a measure of the heart. Often those measurements and mappings are colored by the day’s events. Occasionally they are triggered by a smell, a memory, a glimpse of a photograph that held a tiny sliver of magic.
If we open up our own hearts, opening the veins a little, and let the expressions tumble out, even just for ourselves, we become more familiar with the soundings of our hearts. And as we get more comfortable with the process an amazing thing begins to happen. There is more love.
As we pay attention to certain things they become more important in our lives. And what is more important than love?
Word by word I try to get down something of my longing, quickly, unedited, and with the full force of my feelings. As best I can. But there are many things in the way of a love poem. Chores. Money requirements and thus work. Sadness. (Though finding a voice for the sadness is a way to release what might be underneath, longing for love.)
And poetry is not for everyone. Perhaps a clearly written love letter would be more to the point.
However for me, there is great freedom in allowing my heart and linguistic brain to try to hook up for a moment. Bypassing the editorial board for a minute, I occasionally achieve a satisfying result. But even the bad poems have a purpose. Even writing a poor love letter is better than not expressing that love at all.
Something about letting the expression out of your heart, through your words and sounds and letters on a page, that gives room for more. Each love poem inspires the next. And if you can nurture that “lover’s voice” wouldn’t you rather be speaking in tongues, than writing up another to-do list?
Each. Poem. Has. Value.
And if you write love poems or love letters, focusing on LOVE is a powerful medicine. And the transformation takes place without any effort once you let the flow start. Your heart and language begin to connect more frequently. You see things as LOVE again. You observe love or lack of love in the world, but rather than squelch it off you give voice to your feelings on the subject. It’s a process of opening yourself again to love and loving.
And of course, love is dangerous. If I let myself fall into a poetic trance and forget to pick up my child from school, there are consequences. If I muse for the entire afternoon without getting my work for money done, I’m not serving my life very well.
So love poems have to be tucked into our lives where ever and when ever we can find the impulse. There are so many distractions and requirements that would rather us not pay attention to our hearts, our impulses towards beauty. But with each turning back towards the heart, with each sounding out of a poem of desire, we strengthen that voice in our lives.
>> Explore more writing ideas here: The Writer’s Notebook >>
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
image via creative commons use – beauty in death
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
i am wrapping pillows
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
this is the morning of love and hope and possibilities
when the cold is an offer of snuggles and warm drinks
where the fog seems to be lifting
even when there is no shore in sight
waking up with pets rather than lovers
or children to feed and hug
this is the hope i will never give up
and the longing i will always answer
and the chill i hope to rub red
and the song of my heart i continue to sing
the world is waking up
and so am i
somewhere
in this soupy and mysterious morning
she is waking up too
maybe she has the warmth
or maybe she has given up seeking
for light beyond the love of her children
maybe she’s on opposite weekends
well snuggled while i am wrapping pillows
no worry
this hope burns away the covering clouds
revealing hope again
and sun
joy in the chill
and the opportunity it brings
to love
and love again
fully
warmed again
from within this time
there is no need for her for me
we are autonomous and solid
there is not a repair that needs a man’s strength
she has found that alone again
becoming her whole parent
there is nothing missing
but me
and she may not believe
yet
she may not speak my name
yet
the chill is lifted today
and the fog is blown to the edges of our vision
if the hope remains
that is enough
and the memory
of what a joyful touch felt like
touch
and
joy
together
amazing
10-20-13
Is This Not A Divorce Blog Anymore? WTF?
I’m not happy. Okay, I’m not mad either. I’m sort amused. “je m’amuse” my crappy French for, I amuse myself.
Here’s what’s funny to me. I’m looking at the current list of posts >> over there on the side navigation and I’ve just about blown the whole set of links with POETRY. What? When did this become a poetry blog? I’m sorry, I’m confused, too.
Here’s what I think is happening.
- I’m happy. (I know I just said I wasn’t happy, but that’s not true.)
- I’m lonely. (Not that I am not enjoying my time, because I am, but I’m also … longing.)
- When I’m creative I write poetry and songs. (God, I hope this doesn’t become a music blog.)
- Maybe it’s the change of the seasons. (And the ramp up towards my birthday is usually a time of great joy and striving.)
What I know about myself, is when my life is in top form, I am writing, writing, writing. All kinds of writing. (Music, poems, techie stuff, and this divorce/dating/dad thing, here.) So I’m ripping through a lot of content these days, here and elsewhere in my life. And what I think I am doing is allowing my mind to wander into the what ifs and wants of my heart. Not censoring or editing the romantic form, but amplifying it by giving it form on the page, an image to echo from.
I am sounding out the dark edges of my heart, here on this blog. And where three years ago the song came back harsh and hard, today the music is more lyrical and aspirational.
I won’t try to imagine a woman wandering into this garden and trying to make sense of the messiness. I will let my friend find her own way with all the material. She will either pick up the songs and the poems and reply or she won’t. That part I can be certain is not up to me.
And where would I go, if the symphony were to come alive with a new lover? What new form would I need to construct to hold an arrival and collaboration? I know it won’t be to broadcast it here. ACTUAL LOVE is much too fragile to publish. Longing is much more safe.
First, I am letting the words come to express what I am looking for. Sometimes that’s in the form of “dating” posts. But recently, it has come in the form of a more fluid language. I imagine that I am plumbing the edges of my desire with these streams of words, like sonar pings, searching for the boundaries and reflections. I am also writing them to make my love song more real, both for myself, and for any future lover who trips into my garden.
Second, in giving flight to all this poetry, I am slightly freed from the darker work of divorce, anger, sadness. What I think I’m saying, is this blog has evolved from a catharsis to an aspiration. In the early days of divorce I was wounded, howling, and acting out. Today I am patient, alone, and singing.
An amazing thing happened last night, but I don’t want to say too much about it. But a turn of events led me to share this blog with someone who I’m still very much interested in. I’m going to hold back the story, of course, because it is likely these words will soon be read by her… Hmmm. Isn’t this a fine kettle of fish?
As I wondered aloud, last night, about the wisdom of sharing such raw emotion with a future potential, she was happy to rejoin with encouragement. I can’t imagine what it would be like. She must have felt, last night, from time to time, as I burst out in lines of longing, as if she was in fact walking into some elaborately laid out trap.
Of course that’s not the case. This is not a labyrinth. Unless it is a labyrinth of my own imaginings. I mention snares, and nets, and quarries, but I am not hunting an animal. I am not hunting. But I am doing something. And maybe pulling the poems out of the “divorce” story will help them shine for what they are, love poems. In the classic sense of the term, I am trying to voice all the many abstract ways LOVE occurs to me.
What I know about myself, is when my life is in top form, I am writing, writing, writing. All kinds of writing. (Music, poems, techie stuff, and this divorce/dating/dad thing, here.) So I’m ripping through a lot of content these days, here and elsewhere in my life. And what I think I am doing is allowing my mind to wander into the what ifs and wants of my heart. Not censoring or editing the romantic form, but amplifying it by giving it form on the page, and an image to echo from.
I am sounding out the dark edges of my heart, here on this blog. And where three years ago the song came back harsh and hard, today the music is more lyrical and aspirational. I won’t try to imagine a woman wandering into this garden and trying to make sense of the messiness. I will let my friend find her own way with all the material. She will either pick up the songs and the poems and reply or she won’t. That part I can be certain is not up to me.
And where would I go, if the symphony were to come alive with a new lover? What new form would I need to construct to hold an arrival and collaboration? I know it won’t be to broadcast it here. ACTUAL LOVE is much too fragile to publish. Longing is much more safe.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
image: is a still from the movie Stealing Beauty
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
afternoon here
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
it is afternoon here
and i still don’t know
where you are
poems measure
mappings of desire
still
the nets remain empty
laying out letters
and stones
in formations
arranging flowers
within the grass
giving you signals
directions
openings
i will continue
until
a blush
smile
and
reply
10-19-13
against beauty
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
the nuance is lost
when i hunger
with such intensity
i wear myself out
i cannot imagine
her
my heart bursting
wouldn’t
run
anytime there is a glimmer
i jump with both feet
as into a fresh rain puddle
without care or map
i am reckless
and abandoned
i thrash slightly
with romantic epiphanies
there she is
beauty personified
wings folded
smile alight
there she is
hovering
dipping
smelling of salt
an easy death will not come
not little deaths
but large ones
i do not haunt or hunt
i craft and scheme
and write missives
hoping she will
receive
here she is
listening
within reach
still fluttering
amazed
both of us
at the closeness
and heat
and risk
of flame
i have the patience of a surgeon
and the passion of a teenage boy
i do not fumble
but ready my arrow
and give voice to flying instructions
asking for her assistance
a little lift
is required
but we pause
the is nothing simple about falling
nothing casual
about what I am craving
i fall well
i love even more intentionally
at least…
at least i imagine i will
given the chance, the shot, the siren
i will gladly crash into her
burning all maps
forgiving all plans and transgressions
as we explode
but there is no exploding
today i am only dreaming
today i am doing
my romantic poet
i can tuck this craving under a stone
and go on about my business
today has many turns left
while rubbing up against beauty
ever familiar
ever distant
inspiring yet again
without tangible evidence
that i am getting any closer
to her
10-18-13
image used by permission: mermaid series by jesse sublett
fall and falling and me
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
tonight the burning leaves
bring mysterious memories to mind
of women, rough blankets, hard kisses
in this cold turning of dark
i am alone
and walking
remembering
is this exquisite longing
this curating of desire
an escape for jumping back in
into the pile of leaves
and dirt and chaos
and scraped knees
am i enjoying my musing
more than i would a good kissing
or something rarer perhaps
at play
at rest with myself
i am not longing with my soul
i am longing with my heart
refinding center
at peace
as me
i love the falling
i would love to fall
i have a fear of falling
an error could set me back 11 years
i miss falling
i won’t settle for hopping
or hoping
i need full flight
breathless abandon
without that
the fall is scented with imaginings
again of who or where she might be
i don’t want all right
i don’t crave steady, or solid, or sure
i don’t fall for youth or red lips
i see them, i see potentials everywhere
but they can’t hear me
there is not much to see at the moment
i am reforming
recalculating
calibrating
re
me
10-17-13
image used via creative commons: heat
accidental angels
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
accidental angels have landed in my life
only a few times
each had a message
usually about sex
sometimes about hope
imagine my surprise at 21 years-old
to find an angel in my car with me
taking her clothes off as we speed towards the lake
it’s too cold to get out of the car or swim
she is naked
says she’s a virgin, but I can’t believe that
and i remember the music
and kissing and
driving her back to her cousin’s house
she was visiting
i guess angels have cousins too
the second angel came with flower tattoo on her shoulder
and a smile that lit up the selfie network
unlike any before or since
and she spoke of rain and cure songs
as the chorus of mutually assured flight was determined
she liked tequila and sappy love songs
on her second return flight she hit a dense fog
and never arrived
though her smiling selfies and empty coffee cups
still flutter by occasionally
the most recent flyby was more dangerous
she was still encumbered in the process
in the leaving
and i must’ve seemed like a perch of pause
but i became a leaping off point
and she has since flown away
though her whispers are also still echoing
across the cellular airways
i’m not ready for another angel
i’d prefer a woman
and even then, i’m not sure i’m ready
but perhaps you never are
they are all angels
after all
10-17-13
image is used courtesy of ricardo acevedo and model sera
sera sera sera
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
devastating beauty
of dark and quixotic myth
an endless stream of black night, all stars
deep scent and dampness
any whispers or words
are lost in the soundless awe
words no match for the image
the eye
the lip
a soft and sharp neck
uncovered yet colorless
unmasked
she penetrates my
my
she takes my
my
she is
i’ve lost all
she
cannot imagine
who i think she might be
she is a distant shimmer of light
a dark vortex of mysterious imagination
she is mine
and nothing
and beautiful
and elsewhere
she calls forth a greatness
a striving and chivalrous heart
she
is
not
what she appears to be
beauty caught for a second
in a moment of magic
some distant fires
must warm her gaze
and bring redness and smiles
imagining her laugh
but she is not
she cannot be
she mustn’t ever
this isn’t about her
of course
it is about her hair
her magic
and the fear it conjures
if one so beautiful
exists
by digital frame
is it
conceivable that her inner light
could also radiate with
this
beauty
is the pain from a knowing or unknowing
the tearing of lost hopes
memories and victories
of battles and mountains of youth
there is a chasm between, below, and ahead
i am not seeking
but praying
to a god i don’t pretend to understand
a god who delights in this raw
unfiltered potency
and perhaps in my faint song
of praise
i am praying
and searching for letters
to weave a tapestry or net
of such strength and brilliance
but i pause now
knowing the light is an illusion
the trick
my own
she
my she
is nothing like her
what i have lost
is not returning
what i have yet to discover
still a siren’s song of sorts
still a calling to the rocks
to the old gods
to sacrifices
and
shields of gold
fires
blood
heroes and honor and
and this
image calls an entire fleet
in my heart
this older, slower heart
still red with desire
simmering with incantations
aspirations
to
love
love fully
love unlimited by age or time or reality
love
just
love
god
she is god
i am an acolyte
and i sing
10-16-13
image from: The Tale of Sera Leigh
magnetic joy
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
my sly grin and magnetic joy
what i am perfecting, in this loneliness
i have not grown tired of the pursuit
only the futility of my demands
9-12-13
eyes to the bottom of the pool
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
i’m not waiting for her to make the first move
kiss first
ask for the 2nd date
but I am anticipating that she will provide
some sign
an indication
that will fuel or foul my flames
and she did
and it was a no
and now I can move on
i may never know what why or how
and she will most likely not offer
so we drift
back to our lanes
eyes to the bottom of the pool
and swim on
10-13-13
image: hockney inspired photo
in the coils
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
in the coils of her dark wet hair
i could lose a lifetime
willingly
slipping into something more comfortable
i would give up oxygen
if it meant i could stay safe
in the fresh deep smell
of a woman
so clean
so completely
open
10-9-13
image: untitled used by creative commons license
