I am struggling to choose what story to tell you next. How could you possibly understand what it is in my poor soul that stops me from letting go? For someone who floats along life, letting it happen and living at the rhythm of her desires, how could I explain the control freak in my brain that refuses to live in that moment? I am struggling with either telling you a nonchalant, fun story that will allow you to escape your drab reality, or telling you more about mine? Looking back to the things that led up to my unique moment of loss, and ultimate gain, I realized all the fantasizing that I had written up in my head.
I wrote a script, back in 2007, before I ever knew I was going to be writing this. I wrote about a night in a man’s bed. He was a decade older than me. He told me about movies and art and the seventeen year old that I was, was hooked. Ses baisers sont légers, incertains, fragiles. It was a night that really happened, and the words I used to describe it are filled with insecurities, tainted with fear and naïveté. The most noticeable to me, is that I lied. I lied to my own self, describing multiple orgasms I knew too well never happened. The shallow self-awareness I was expressing in the parts about knowing him was heart-warming, yet still encumbered by the lies all around it. I wanted so much to fit in; I wanted so much to be a certain person.
Today, I sit here staring at who I really have become. She may not be the best woman I can be, but this girl in the reflection of my computer, she is real. She stopped romanticizing (mostly). She stopped wanting to fit in. She lives her own little life, trying to be true to that gut feeling that has always commanded her choices. I think the first time I saw pieces of this woman, was another night, back in 2005. It was one of those nights you spent hours, weeks and years envisioning. He was my first. He was my first love, my first kiss, my very first boyfriend. We met when I was eight and he was nine. We saw each other every summer after that. It was like my holiday home, my beach boyfriend. To this very day, he is one of the dearest persons in my life and I will love him forever. He was the sweetest, most caring boy. Year after year, each summer was a new benchmark. That particular night had been long coming.
Like every first time, it was far from spectacular. Drab is the word I am sticking with. There was no fighting reality with romance. It was reality slapping you in the face, giving you a preview of what love was going to feel like: sharp pain, want, sadness, fear and intimacy. He was gentle; it was not his first. He looked me straight in the eye. He held my hand every step of the way. I wanted for that first second to push him away. I was overwhelmed by the pain, sharp and so deeply personal. I wanted him to disappear and for no one to ever touch me again. Then he was in and it became bearable again. The whole ordeal lasted about a minute. No, it was not glorious like some will have you think. It was overrated and underwhelming once it was over. But yes, I was left wanting more. I wanted to persevere, see what all the fuss was about. It is so far in my memory it saddens me how much I forgot. I do remember the stray cat bursting through the door of the basement of my house. I was staying there for a week because the rest of the house was rented out. There was a bed, a fridge and a toilet. No shower, no furniture but a couple of plastic patio chairs. Romantic as hell. The fucking stray cat scared the shit out of me and broke the little “specialness” this moment was to hold. After he managed to kick the cat out, we laughed a lot, loudly.
Those are all the things I have left from that over-romanticized moment: pain, a new intimacy, the cat, the concrete walls and his eyes. I realize now, writing this, that again, I am struggling with the words to express what I truly do remember. It is a very mixed feeling, at the pit of my stomach. It is a feeling of something being over and done with, and an open door. The loss and the gain. Language is universal. We have rules, grammar and undertones that are supposed to be used in the same way by all. But life! Life is far from universal. Each word is used contextually for each and every one of us individually. Life is nuances. The woman staring back at me is smiling, thinking of him so dearly, wishing she could hug him. She knows he was part of creating a little bit of her that remains. She is also wishing that this control issue in her head would stop. I do not like to lose control. It is for that reason that I do not do drugs. See you can snap out of being drunk, if something happens, if something needs you back to reality. I like knowing that I can be in control (to a certain extent) if I need to be. Yet I like the unknown; I love travelling for that precise reason. You can however think through the unknown, you can ensure that you have thought of possible scenarios, and escape routes, even if the reality often exceeds anything you would have ever predicted.
Consciously renouncing all control is something I struggle with. It would be like taking away the universality from language. It would be removing all structure, on purpose. Even if I trust the person in front of me in that moment, there are so many things in my life that demand my attention, in my own head, at all times. What if? is not merely a question for regrets. It is also what if I forgot the stove on, what if I did not attach the file to that email, what if he is not turned on by this particular position… Suddenly I am filled with sadness. The beauty of simplicity I am able to enjoy in so many other moments and instances in my life… Life is nuances and contrasts and contradictions. Ecstasy might escape me still; she might be but an acquaintance. She might be the one choosing when she wishes to meet me next. It is out of my hands, so why can I not let go? I struggled with deciding what story to tell you because the truth is, it is all one big story. It is my story, my shades of grey, my insecurities and failures, as much as my unexpected moments of life’s glory. Most men reading this by now will think I think too much, that I should relax. Most women reading this will finally feel like they know me a bit better, understand the complexities and perhaps identify with me, more or less. Still I do not think my overanalyzing—let us call it that—is a gendered issue. It touches each individual differently. This is why I am choosing these words for you right now. In a society that so easily edits and creates time lapses, for all of our faults to be hidden, it feels good to create room for them. The sadness has left. The woman I see in the reflection is now smiling, feeling something like hope; she sees an open space for the nuances in her personality, a space for her soul to breath.
Wonderful.
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brave post. before I decided I wanted to share some fiction with the world I talked a lot about my addictions and my fucked up life that I had fucked up. you remind me of me – keep telling the truth and keep being brave and ill keep listening.
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Thank you both. I am very honoured.
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Beautifully Given and Gratefully Received. Bravo~
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Thank you, Christine, for your brutal honesty. It is incredibly refreshing and compelling. I applaud you for writing about your past openly and also with such discernment. There are downsides to over analyzing (something I’m very guilty of) but there are also upsides; perhaps a better understanding of life and it’s nuances.
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Write the truth. Then romanticize it. Read them both and decide which one you like best. It’s YOUR writing and you are the only one in control of it. In control of sharing it. Save the one you don’t pick and release it later as a revision or exposè. I am very much a control freak with my writing. It represents me and what i can do. Not what I used to do, but what I can do now. 😉
Love this post, by the way! Very captivating and I believe all writers go through this at least once. Thank you!
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I’m hooked! 🙂
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Thank you! 🙂 congrats on your blog!
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Intriguing.
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Wow…you ARE brave (as was said above). The daily struggle of letting go of thinking about EVERYTHING is not an easy one…
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🙂 Thank you so much.
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Love this
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Thank you so much for the follow, it’s led me to your writing and you are so worth the discovery because your writing is simply beautiful! The way you write is so unique and honest it’s captivating. Thank you again, I can’t wait to explore more of it!
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Did you catch the name of the cat?
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Haha! I just assumed it was a stray cat! i’ll try to remember 😉
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I’m totally entranced by your writing. It’s wonderfully candid, lucid and almost hypnotic. I love this style. Congratulations!
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Thank you!!!! 🙂
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This post is beyond deep, it is so intrinsic to the human condition. We must give room for our faults. When we suffocate them, we suffocate ourselves. Love this!
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Thank you so much!!! Glad you liked it!
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Thank you for sharing deeply personal thoughts. And thanks for following my blog. I appreciate it.
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yes. wonderful. thank you for finding me
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Hmm, so there are only two boxes. That’s strange, because I didn’t think the guy thoughts, nor the woman thoughts. Maybe there are at least three boxes??
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There are infinite amounts of boxes! What did you think?
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I thought, “Hmm, this sounds like _______ , a friend of mine, describing her first time” It’s just good to get the first time over with and get right going on second, third, etc.
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I loved reading this! I saw myself at least three times. Not with the cat, though. Thanks for stopping and following me. I can only hope to be as honest as you.
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Thanks so much deb! I agree very much with your last post! Thanks for engaging with me! 🙂
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Love it … looking forward to many more!!!!
Jekiyll
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Really loved this. Our faults are what define us as individuals. They need to be embraced. Even my ‘let’s pick the most unsuitable man every time’ fault. Heck, without them, we would be bland reflections of ourselves. And not have anything to write about, nor the fire to write it. Thanks for the follow, I really appreciate it!!
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I loved this it was beautifully written.
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Reblogged this on Marie Guirevees Erotica Books and commented:
I loved this…
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I love this! Refreshing, and very honest. I believe hardly anyone’s first is romantic.
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Having read this a second time and having just gone through a rather difficult period of time in my own life, I do love your honesty and candor. Oh that more of the people I deal with would have the same. I’ve been married 40 years and am just now learning about some of the deeper elements of my soul. Where the hell have I been for the last so many years!!!!!!1
Jekyll!
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Did you read just this chapter or the whole thing?
Also, it’s a common thing, in our day and age, regardless of our generations, to have been shut out from exploring our soul. Yet increasingly, and rather steadily, I am finding out that no matter when your moment comes, the moment that you finally say out loud and believe it: “this is who I am and this is what I want truly”, it creates the path and expresses the choices you make, according to the peace in your heart. Let it sing, you’ll see what comes is just what was meant to be.
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I’ve been hooked on your blog for these past few days ever since you followed me. I’m so glad you did or else I never would have discovered this blog. You found me, and I found something powerfully enlightening to read in return. Thank you for that. I’m sad that now I can’t open up my phone to read your blog anymore because I’ve already caught up. Your writing is beautiful and please keep it up! You don’t solely have to write about the past (:
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Thank you so much!!! I’m blushing!!! I’m going through a hectic time in my life right now and you are pushing me to make time to write! I will post the next chapter very soon!!
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Hi Christine,
Thank you for the follow. We followed you back. We had to. Your blog is really something else. We won’t say much about it till we’ve given it the time that it deserves. There’s a lot of depth, rawness and honesty. You’ve got two fans here in us.
Regards and admiration,
Taha and Sasha
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Reblogged this on WHY? and commented:
Good Reading! Hope you do not mind the reblog.
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I am captivated by your writing. For me, it’s like being in a dream, where I hear her side of our story, without her knowing I’m there. The insights are touching. I am compelled to reflect on my own side of that story, and deal with whatever new truths I find, even the ones that threaten my tenuous grip on a nice reality. Strangely, it is the reflection, over, and over again, that creates the hope of healing instead of a nebulous ending. I must thank you for that.
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So bittersweet and beautifully written.
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hey 🙂 I’ve only discovered your blog at chp 18. far too much (to catch up on). Just being honest.. what is your “great loss”? have you told your readers already?
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My great loss? You may be speaking of Chap 17! It’s only one topic! The chapters are more like episodes, not all chronological!
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I am just thankful that you find me, and after i discovered this amazing stories about fun, full of life and thoughts, and friends, and travel, the world, the men and sex! Just thank you, keep writing, because you absorbed me to keep reading you! I truly believe that you are an amazing person! I just understand it while i was reading you. Truly amazing!
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Thank you so much my darling!!! It is the biggest compliment that you can give me, to read an love!!! Much love hun!!
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I can’t begin to chase that with eloquence so I’ll just say that post gave the chills that only real writing, writing that flows freely and does not try to be contrived or contained can give. Quite simply that was beautiful
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Thank you so much dear. I am very touched and thankful for such an incredible compliment. 🙂
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So lovely.!! Thank you for the blog follow too 🙂
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Intriguing blog post. Thanks for following my blog.
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