"There are trees in the desert since you moved out."

Let me start by saying that I'm writing this from a well balanced, and whole-feeling place. Tonight I am observer of my life, and this is what I see. I'm not sad, or remorseful, rather I'm just jotting down my observeres notes. I'm sure at some point, maybe even this very night, these pondered insights, and use of blatant metaphors will be of use to myself for my future desired emotional growth.

I fear lately that my life is on a road to becoming a whirlwind, a dust devil, of well intentioned relationships that ultimately, at one point or another, become meaningless for him or for I.

Really.

I can see it in my brain, that whirlwind, or writhing flesh and momentary pleasure, that even at it's climax of fluid producing ecstasy, often still leaves me feeling empty emotionally. (Often, not always. No not always. If it was always, I would truly be downtrodden with little hope of regaining my emotional composure.) What's particularly troubling about this dust devil is that I'm not at it's center riding the stable column of air at it's axis. I'm not at it's axis with all the drama hurling it's way around me in one great, sweeping, arc of angular momentum. No, i'm just as jumbled up as the others caught in it's rotating, kareening path. My arms flailing desperately trying to stabilize myself in an otherwise helpless situation. Only partially desperate to right myself in all the fucking drama, that I refuse to be a part of in real life. (Guys have often commented on the fact that I don't rap myself in drama.) but really in my brain, the part that obsesses over my fragile emotions, i'm sooooooo a drama queen. I just don't go running about tossing it in the face of those I'm dating. (perhaps that would be a liberating experience, to just become SUPER DRAMA BITCH, for one day each year. SERIOUSLY, it might be a growing experience.

Corazon, you have seen my drama. But were best friends, and I've seen yours, and we understand it, and we still respect each other after words. Stephen, he's the only guy I can think of that has seen my drama, I couldn't hold it in. My first taste of true love, and is refusal to tell me why it was ending, all those years ago, and I just didn't even try to hold it in. It all CAME out in a begging pleading way for answers and understanding, and why if I loved him so much, why was it that he didn't feel the same way back? Yes, that night, that thursday night in March of 1997, he caught the full brunt of my drama filled desperation and since that night I thing he has been the last boy to ever witness it.

Back to the whirlwind.

This isn't a helpless situation, and every flail of my arm is only a half ass attempt to right myself, as I suspect there may be a part of me that is rather enjoying the tumbling, gyrateing, ride, enjoying the fact that it allows me to not be numb.

So, yeah, let's go back way up their to the top, and pretend I didn't right all this superfluous stuff in the middle. So I fear, my life is headed towards a string of meaningless sexual encounters, and I know it is driven in large part by a desperate biological clock that has been ticking VERY loudly as of late to be partnered off. That tick pretty much sounds like a cannon going offf in my ear lately. I try not to equate happiness and self worth with the ability to attract a stable mate, but well, honestly I think having a partner would promote emotional well being. Or could, rather.

stopping.