MasculineCurves

tipsy texter...

My ordinary life in Cleveland has been getting to me lately. So a friend and I packed up the car and headed to Chicago for a little July 4th weekend getaway. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love this city and have some really great friends here. Problem is this also happens to be the same city in which Tyro is currently residing (an old flame whom I was crazy about back in the day). 

So my friends and I went out drinking last night. What is it about drinking that encourages us to pick up the phone and spill our hearts to those who broke our hearts? Thank god for the evolution of mobile technology. I am no longer a drunk dialer, just a tipsy texter. I couldn’t resist hitting Tyro up. It went a little something like this:

Me: It is so hard bing in this city without wanting to pick up the phone and call you.

Him: What? You’re here? Why haven’t you called me?

Me: Yeah... I can’t see you right now but I think of you often. 

(The real reason I can’t see him is out of pure self-consciousness. I’ve gained quite a bit of weight since our romantic days and I couldn’t fathom him seeing me like this).

Him: Okay 

His nonchalant responses always annoyed me. Afterall, shouldn’t he be begging to see me?

Me: Sorry, it’s the wine talking tonight. But it’s true... I think of you often. And, yes, it’s hard being a stone’s throw away from someone who crosses my mind every now and then. I hope you’re happy, safe... and of course, loved.

Him: I understand.

Was he really being sympathetic here? Or was he being his arrogant self? As if to say ‘I understand, I get these kind of messages from all my lovers all the time. I’m that hot.’ 

Me: You didn’t answer my question.

I guess I really didn’t ask a question. But I still wanted to know if there was someone in his life.

Him: What was the question?

Me: Are you happy? Safe? Loved?

Him: I am good. 

At this point he’s sensing my emotional vulnerability and his non-answer was an indication he wasn’t going to give me an answer I didn’t want to hear.

Me: Okay... Well we never talk anymore. So how am I to know?

Me: Anyways, I hope all is well. BTW my friends warned me not to send text messages tonight. So please chalk it up to the alcohol... I loved you once upon a time...

Him: It’s okay. I know. 

Me: Yeah... Well you don’t have to deal with the hangover in the morning...lol. But for now all is good...

Him: Yeah, that is going to be a bitch in the a.m.

Me: But it’s gonna be worth it. I am laying on my friend’s deck... underneath the stars and the brilliant Chicago skyline... drink by my side.... it’s a gorgeous summer evening. Happy 4th Tyro.

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Only the one who inflicts the pain can take it away

Saturday, June 1, 2008
I looked around the living room searching for that one spot I missed, or that one item out of place. But everything was perfect. I had mopped the bathroom floor, took out the garbage, cleaned the kitchen, and at last, tidied the living room. My Saturday afternoon chores were complete. It was at that moment I noticed the stillness in the apartment. At 32 and single, the stillness is often there, but on this day it set in and smothered me. The only sign of life filling this space was the sound of my own breath. I had fallen to the jilted lover’s kryptonite – loneliness.

I hadn’t felt that empty in such a long time, but it was all no strange emotion to me. And whenever I feel empty I long to hear a familiar voice. A voice that will somehow convince me that I am loved and I matter to someone. A voice that will tell me I am important to him. To his being. And his being was the one being I need not in my life, Tyro. I thought about making that phone call, but some years had past since we last spoke on the phone. And since I had revealed the bitter feelings I harbored towards the whole situation, an out-of-the-blue phone call would clearly expose my vulnerability.

Sex and Love

In celebration of the St. Valentine's Holiday, I've chosen to write about an aspect of my personal life that I hardly ever share with anyone, let alone discuss here on the blog. Yes, on this day of romance I shall spill the intimate details of my sex life and drop a few random thoughts about love. So why have I dodged discussing my romantic life on my personal weblog? Well, the answer is simple. Both my sex life and love life are practically non-existent. Thus, these are the days and nights of a desperate artist.

Today there will be no box of chocolates nor dozen roses for me. I will send no singing telegrams nor hand out candy hearts with cutsie phrases on them. No knight in shining armor will appear at my door to whisk me away to a candle lit dinner. And I won't be turning down the bed to take a steamy lover at the end of the night. Yes, today will be just another ordinary day in my ordinary life.

There's no mistaking that as a physique photographer I get to see a lot of sensual men in the buff up close and personal. And I would be lying if I didn't admit that these guys present me with a fervent temptation from time to time. So it's easy to see why so many people mistakingly assume that my sex life is popping. Well, that couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is... The truth is I'm actually quite conservative when it comes to sex. Now I don't mean in a bible thumping, evangelistic, right-winged way. As you know, I'm a very liberal minded person. I believe that everyone should be allowed to do whoever they want, be whoever they want, and express themselves in the bedroom any way they want. But for me, personally, I'm just not comfortable with casual sex. I wish I were, because then I would actually get it once in awhile. But I'm just not too keen on hooking up with random men and getting it on. This is partially because I'm somewhat of a hypochondriac, and in this day of age who can blame me? But the bigger picture here is that I am a bit of an old-fashioned romantic. Sex is just so much more satisfying when it's with someone that I actually feel deep sentiments toward.

For me, 2007 was about mourning the loss of a love.

It's Sunday evening and I'm just now getting around to posting on the blog. It's been a busy day of running errands and getting things ready for my trip to Chicago, but I took a little time out this afternoon to do one of my favorite things --that is my Sunday afternoon nap. What I love about the Sunday afternoon nap is that it's not really a time for me to catch up on my sleep, but rather a time for me to sort my thoughts. It's a kind of meditation for me.

While I don't do a Sunday afternoon nap every week it's something that I do on frequent occasions. Sundays just seem to be a good day because it's that lazy day when I find myself winding down from the weekend and getting ready for the week ahead. To prepare for my Sunday afternoon nap I like to go around the house and make sure everything is turned off. No cell phones, no tv, no iPods. As soon as I am certain that anything that makes a noise is either shut off or muted I then climb into bed, curl up in my blankies, lay still, and just listen. Yes, that's right. I just listen. I listen to what the world is really telling me. I hear the bustle of traffic on the street. I hear the opening and closing of doors. I hear my neighbors' arguments. I hear my neighbors make-up (sometimes I can even hear them having "make-up" love in the middle of the afternoon). And just as I'm taking it all in I hear what I need to listen to most, and that is my thoughts. Sunday afternoon naps are a time for me to process what's on my mind and sort out where I'm at emotionally. I may close my eyes, but I'm anything but asleep. I'm totally tuned in, I'm totally aware, and I'm listening to what's really on my mind.

Today's Sunday afternoon nap took me to a really deep emotional place. In fact, I only intended to lay down for an hour, but my emotions told me I needed to spend more time with them today. I ended up meditating for two hours. I think this is because we're about to enter a new year and I'm in a spot where I'm reflecting on what's happened to me over the past 12 months. There have been highs and lows, and today I had one of the lows on my mind. I realized that for most of the year I've been in a process of mourning. I said goodbye to a friend and a great love this year and I'm in the process of letting go. No, no one has died. You see, I literally told someone that I loved deeply that he was no longer good for me and I needed him out of my life once and for all. I'm grieving because I'm not certain that I made the right choice. Will my broken heart finally mend now that I've pushed him out? Or, will this be a decision I'll regret the rest of my life?