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Ari-Wood
Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........

All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.


That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.

The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.

My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..

Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry

Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life

Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use

Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness

Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life

You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.)
Title View |
Into the Maze Nov 20, 2007 4:33 pm
638 Views
Moving along the path through the maze, I continued to move as much as possible to the left. It seems to me…although I could be wrong, that it is easiest to find your way back to the beginning when you stay moving in a consistent direction. Having taken several turns, I came to an opening in the hedge and entered what appeared to be a small room. The room contained a bed of the kind I would only dream of; something so fine and romantic that it would people a story rather than an actual room. The room was decorated much as I would do, in white, greens, burgundy, and traces of pink. I found it an appealing room and stepped into it.

Inside the bed slept a man, no one I knew, no one I recognized from any place I have ever been. His dark hair was short and drawn back from his face. His features could have belonged to any man although…his lips were soft and kissable. I found myself wanting to kiss him as if he were a male version of Sleeping Beauty. I was more surprised to find myself wanting to slip under the covers and rest against him. There was a tug at my heart as I looked at him…yet…he was no one I knew.

I moved to the dresser and opened drawers which contained women’s clothes much like my own. Lifting a slip out I saw that it was exactly my size. Glancing down into the drawer, I watched my hands as I touched articles. It was then I realized that the ring on my finger was not the one I ordinarily wear. I wear a ring with three topaz stones of the palest gold I’ve ever seen,,,and four tiny diamonds. The ring was a gift I gave myself last year for my birthday…my birthstone…in the most beautiful stones I could find. That ring was not on my finger; instead there was a simple white gold wedding band. I looked at the ring, astonished, and saw that it was indeed in my taste. It was encircled by tiny stars, each star having a different stone in its center.

Slowly, as I turned and thought through the situation, I began to wonder if I understood the meaning of the choice in this room. Was this indeed what I most wanted from life? Was this the path I had always searched for? I shook my head in confusion and left the room. Looking around, I realized that I had reached a dead-end in the path and I turned back until I found a new path I had not yet walked upon. Following that path to its end, I again found myself in a small room.
This room appeared to be a small office with a desk in the center. I walked to the desk and saw a check upon it. It was a payroll check with my name and the sum on it made my breath catch in my throat. Upon the walls were small frames filled with certificates and diplomas. My name appeared on each one of them. The office was filled with books and files indicating that I had achieved my degrees and had moved forward into the career I had worked so hard to gain. The chair was deep and comfortable and I sensed that all I needed to do was take my seat upon it.

Glancing at my hand, I noticed that the wedding band had been replaced by my habitual topaz ring. My nails were long and well-groomed and as I looked at myself further I saw that I was wearing a beautiful suit with the very elegant heels I love so much…although…these heels were clearly of a much better quality than I had ever worn before. The office radiated success and well-being.

I stopped a moment and wondered if I would prefer marriage to a man who would care for and love me or the career I was working so hard to develop. Which goal mattered more to me? I know that I love my work, I know that I prefer to make enough money to be independent at any time…but I know that my work does not fill the loneliness of doing everything alone…nor will it be there for a lifetime. Which would I choose? What was I giving up in the choice?

I knew that I was not yet ready to make a choice and I decided to continue wandering the maze. Perhaps more options would present themselves to me. Perhaps the ones I had already looked at would disappear…I had no way of knowing what I should expect next.
6 Comments
To Dream Nov 20, 2007 4:02 pm
494 Views
Arriving home, my evening was taken up with the usual; lots of studying, making dinner, arguing with my ex, working on the house, and blogging. I didn’t load the checks I’d written that day into my checkbook program so I didn’t think much about what had happened during the day; it simply was what it was. I generally don’t go to bed until some time after midnight, so I don’t spend a lot of time awake, but I do try to spend just a minute thinking about the day to come and what I need to do. I also take a minute to consider the day which has just passed in order to determine if I have done what I could to help others…or if I have harmed anyone else. By the time I have gone over the day, I am often drifting into sleep.

I found myself walking along a path. The path was paved with bricks in soft colors and I watched the pattern as I walked thinking that I might like to duplicate this pattern in my yard. Before me was a row of beautiful bushes grown to well over my head. Each bush bloomed with a different color flower, lilacs, rose of Sharon, forsythia….so many flowers, so beautiful the hedge. The path lay between two beautiful bushes of Rose of Sharon double blooms, a favorite flower of mine, and I paused to smell the beautiful blossoms. I turned to continue on my walk when I realized that the bushes were not simply in a row, there was another row before me. I turned to the left and saw that there was an opening to the right within a handful of feet. Turning to the right, I saw there was a similar opening on the left side. Was this then the maze that the lady had spoken of?

Turning around, I found that the path behind me had been swallowed in darkness which felt heavy, thick, threatening. I did not want to go back….but I was not sure I wanted to go forward. What had the lady said? I would only have one choice…and some choices would require I give up other opportunities. Without having time to think this through, to analyze it in my way, I was not comfortable moving forward. I stepped off the path…to the side of the bush nearest me on the left, but the darkness immediately swirled around me and in the darkness I could hear voices speaking. The voices were harsh and guttural and frightened me. I could see no one, but the voices sent chills down my spine and I was quick to return to the path. And of course, upon the path, it was well lit.

I entered the maze and was astonished at the sheer size of it. Moving first to the left, I took the right-hand turn and saw that the maze extended a huge distance. I was confused. What was I supposed to do in this place? What would I find in this place? Why was I even here?

I was hesitant to continue, not knowing what constituted choosing, not knowing what choices would be offered, not even knowing if I was in the right place. Fear can often hold us back when most need to continue moving forward. A softly murmured, “You CAN do this….”; and I took the first step.
1 comment
In Return Nov 20, 2007 1:48 pm
418 Views
She pulled the hat from the bag and tucked her long hair under it. I was so happy to see that she was going to keep the coat. I was cold and wanted nothing more than to get in my car and head home, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave the lady. I was enjoying the look on her face…that of someone who has just celebrated an unexpected Christmas.

She sat beside me again, no longer huddled quite so tight as she warmed to the new wrappings. We spoke for a time of people we watched entering and leaving the store; guessing at the kind of people they were and what they at the store for. She was an entertaining woman and I enjoyed visiting with her. After some time though, it was time for me to leave so that I could get back to Soda before dark. I dislike driving after dark because there are so many wild animals that cross the highway unexpectedly.

Again I offered her a ride home and this time she accepted. As we pulled our seatbelts across ourselves I decided to ask a question that had been bothering me. “Do you have family that comes to see you often?” I knew I was stepping over a boundary.

“My husband died several years ago. I have a daughter, but she lives in New York and she doesn’t get back often to visit.”

“How sad for you. I’m sure you miss her very much. I’ve had such a wonderful time with you today. I’m hope I’m not stepping outside the bounds, but I wonder if you would mind if I called from time to time to talk to you; or perhaps took you out to lunch when I come to Pocatello. My own family is far away and it would feel as if I had family to look forward to.”

She looked at me closely and I wasn’t quite sure what she saw. Did she think I had some kind of harmful intentions toward her? Did she think I was lying when I said I would like to see her again?

She smiled again and said, “I’d like that, but only if you really want to. I wouldn’t like anyone to feel obligated to spend time with me.”

“I would never do that, but I have really enjoyed your company.”

“Ok.”

When we got to the apartment complex where she lived, she invited me inside so that I would know where she lived and she could give me her phone number. The apartment was small but quite lovely. She took her new coat off and carefully hung it in the closet, setting the rest of the accessories on the table just inside the door. I looked at the pictures on her wall as she wrote down her phone number and address. She brought a piece of paper to me….Betty. I turned to her and held out my hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Betty. I am Arreana, but everyone calls me Ari.” I’ve learned to space words well around my name because people think they are hearing Mariana.

She took my hand and shook it, then turned her hand so that mine rested on top of hers. Placing her other hand on top of mine, she looked deep into my eyes. I looked back into her lively blue eyes and smiled.

“It hasn’t been an easy journey for you, has it child?”

I blinked. I’m sure my smile faded as I looked at her and wondered what was to come.

“Life is never easy for anyone, is it?”

“It is quite easy for some. For others, there are challenges to be met.” Still she held my hand between hers, lightly, but not releasing it. I wanted to pull it away but something in her eyes held me still.

“You meet your challenges well; but there is fear inside you.”

“Is that so unusual? I think we all find fear as we walk our paths.” I tried to be flip about her words but she frightened me a little at this point.

“When you enter the maze, remember that the way will not be shown to you. Each choice you are given will have a price. Some choices will require that you give up other opportunities. One choice. You are only allowed one choice. If you step onto the path, the choice is made and you cannot change your mind. Be cautious as you choose.”

Her eyes closed as she spoke and I felt as if we were somewhere different, somewhere…I couldn’t quite see; misted in silence. As her eyes opened she smiled and said, “You are being given an opportunity few ever receive. Use it well.”

“I don’t understand. What maze are you speaking of? What opportunity? What choices? I have never heard of any of this.”

“The Maze has opened before you. Your steps have led you to this place. All that you most desire stands before you and you must choose the path you most want to walk. But you may only choose one path; and you are bound to the choice you make.”

She released my hand then and turned to the photographs on the wall. I stayed a short time listening as she told her stories of the people in the photographs…and then I left to return to Soda. Her parting words shook me as had everything that went before.

"Surely you were brought to help me when I needed it most. But in return, you were brought so that I could help you also. You have a need to be with people who love you and I will love you just as if you were a part of my family. You also needed to hear what your path brings to you. Just remember, choose well."

I thought of her words all the way home and wondered if I’d made a mistake asking if I could call and visit her. Yet, I’d spent time with many who were…not as sound as they once were without anything unpleasant befalling me. I wasn’t sure what choice I would make about contacting her in the future, but I knew that I would feel bad if I let her down after having made the offer.
2 Comments
The Giving Nov 20, 2007 12:44 pm
536 Views
As I left the store I could see that she was still sitting on the bench, her arms wrapped across her chest and her cold fingers tucked under her arms. She smiled again as I sat beside her.

“You look very cold.” I knew I said the obvious.

“It is cold today. I can’t quite get warm.” She shivered as she spoke, yet never seemed to be feeling sorry for herself.

“Have you been sitting here long?”

“I walk here each day and watch the people. I like to be near people as they hurry at their business.”

“So…you simply sit here and watch as people go in and out?” I asked quietly.

“Sometimes; it is interesting to see how people interact. I imagine the relationships they have from the way they react to each other.”

“I can imagine that would be interesting; sometimes I do that when I see people in passing.”

We shared a smile of communion as we spoke lightly of a trait we had in common.

“I hope that you won’t be offended, but it seemed to me that you needed something warm and I bought you some lunch and hot chocolate.”

“Oh honey, you didn’t need to do that.” Her skin went a deeper red than it already was and I knew that I had embarrassed her.

“I didn’t know if you had anything to eat…or anywhere to go. You have no obligation to accept it, but it would make me feel good to know you were not hungry and that you had something inside you to warm you.”

“That’s very sweet of you. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I would not offer if I minded.”

She smiled and took the hot chocolate, wrapping her fingers around the cup as she warmed them. I set the meal beside her and simply sat back as she sipped at the hot drink.

“May I ask you a question?” I spoke softly as she began to open the bag.

“Sure, I love having company to sit with me for a change.” She took the chicken sandwich from the bag and began to eat it.

“I see that you aren’t wearing a coat and it is beginning to snow. Can I offer you a ride home to get your coat? I’d be happy to bring you back again.”

“My coat got old last year, but the church says they will have coats for some of us soon. People donate them, you know; and then the church gives them to people who can’t afford them on their own.”

“I had heard of that before. I hope that they will have them available soon.”

“Sometimes it is a little later in the winter before they have enough to give out.” She shrugged and smiled.

“I bought a coat and gloves to donate to one of the churches in my town. I wonder if I can offer them to you, since your church was going to gift you with one…and I was going to donate it to a church. It would be nice to feel that I had donated it just for you.”

“I can’t accept that from you. You should give it to the church.”

“I could do that, but I would never have the pleasure of actually knowing who the coat went to. I think it would look lovely on you…and I would feel so much better knowing you don’t have to be cold as you wait for a coat to be available.” I tried to be cautious, not to press. I wanted this lady to have the coat I had bought, but I knew that people can be very sensitive.

She was quiet as she ate the sandwich and fries I had given her. I sat silently, hoping I had not pressed too hard. I thought several times that I should simply rise and leave, but the silence was companionable and I wanted to enjoy her company a bit longer. When she finished eating, she carefully placed the refuse inside the bag and rose to put the bag in a nearby trashcan. She sat back down and turned to me.

“You know, no one’s ever bought me lunch before. Thank you for being so nice to someone you don’t even know.”

“It was very little that I did. I only felt sad that you looked so cold. I am so grateful you accepted it. You gave me a gift in doing so.”

“Are you really going to donate the coat to a church?” she spoke so softly I had to lean closer to hear her.

“I am. Each year I try to donate somewhere. It helps me to feel better about myself. I think it is a way to apologize for anything I may have done that was hurtful.”

“Maybe I could just try it on and see if it fits?”

I smiled. “Of course you can.” I reached down and picked up the larger bag. “I think the color would be wonderful on you.”

She took the coat out and carefully stood to put it on. It was a little tight on her, but I knew that once she removed some of the excess clothes it would fit her well. She slid her fingers into the gloves and wrapped the scarf around her neck carefully tucking the ends inside the coat.

“I feel so pretty.” Her smile reminded me of my daughter’s when she had gotten a particularly special gift.

“It suits you very well. That bright red just picks up the color from your cheeks.”

She turned slowly and asked me how the coat looked.

“As if you had bought it for yourself.”

*and just so you know....I'm not done yet....
9 Comments
The Gift Nov 20, 2007 10:17 am
545 Views
As I walked up to the store, I noted the old woman sitting on the bench. She saw me looking and smiled the sweetest smile I had seen in some time. She shivered from the cold and I noticed that her gloves had holes and her skin was red from the sharpness of the wind that bit through my own coat. She had clothes layered over clothes, poorly matched and some of the clothes were clearly inappropriate for the weather. A vagrant thought that she was wearing her entire wardrobe slipped through my mind and I dismissed it as an unworthy consideration. Still, her smile was warm and her eyes lit with pleasure. I smiled in return, and murmured a greeting as I passed.

I didn’t have much to buy; a new headset with increased noise reduction so that I would hear less external noises as I study, a new coffee maker since the hard water in town destroys them rather swiftly, and a handful of the spice packages I love for seasoning meat with a black peppercorn flavor; yet I wandered into the women’s clothes department even though I certainly don’t need more clothes. I saw that they had last year’s winter coats on sale and I looked them over wondering why I bothered. I wear a coat which was a safety award at work; I haven’t bought a new coat in several years. A bright red down-filled coat caught my eye and I looked it over and placed it in my cart. It wasn’t my style; I generally buy black, brown, or blue for myself; but I kept thinking of the old woman sitting on the bench and how sweet she would look dressed up in red. I wondered if I would offend her if I bought her a warm coat. I thought of how cold she looked and knew that even if she declined the coat, there were many churches I could donate it to. A package containing a warm red stocking hat, scarf, and pair of gloves joined the coat in the cart and I was finished.

As I paid for my purchases, I thought again about the likelihood that the woman was no longer sitting on the bench; that her family had picked her up; that she would find it demeaning and embarrassing to have a total stranger offer her warm clothes. I was uncertain if I was taking the right step but my heart told me that by not doing it, I would feel bad for a very long time. I walked over to the McDonald’s just inside the door of the store and purchased a meal and a cup of hot chocolate. The fact that many of the people in the area are Mormon also means that many of them will never drink hot coffee. I knew that I was more likely to be of help to the lady if I offered chocolate. I took the meal and my two bags and left the store slowly. I was not certain how I would offer the meal and the warm clothes to the lady without being forward or offensive. I hoped that the words would come to me as I spoke to her.
12 Comments
Lost Dreams Nov 19, 2007 12:05 am
715 Views
A movement in the darkness
Taunting echo of your laugh
Her hand quivers restlessly
Upon the tattered pieces
Gored fragments of her lost dreams
Lashes stark against pale skin
Eyes seeping drops of laughter
Abandoned and forgotten
Shattered memories entwined
With hope’s bitterest endings
Remnants of your words linger
Hidden in shadowed valleys
Behind lids sealed against light
Sifts each fragile grain of sand
Searching for reality
Any particle of truth
Drenched within the acrid stench
Residual brilliant pain
Bleeding in your written lies
Take the encore to her life
With your hunger fill her head
Sink the anchor, watch her sway
Under love’s scintillant waves
Effervescent with dark rage
Until at last, she obeys.
10 Comments
Last Call Nov 18, 2007 10:09 pm
683 Views
When you held me last
Of whom were you thinking?
Whose hand held your heart;
Whose voice whispered her love?
I felt your absence.
Emptiness resounded
In tiny places
Between our heated skins;
I could feel the end.
Still, you loved me again.
I shared your hunger
Vibrating inside me
As an echoed pulse.
Teardrops coruscating
Moonbeams, refracted
Through shattered crystal hearts.
And when you were done
It was as if I died.
Your eyes slid away;
Refused to rest on me.
Nonexistent soul
Undraped in memories
You wished to erase;
Expressing your distaste.
1 comment
To You....with love. Nov 18, 2007 7:32 pm
854 Views
To you...

There are moments in life when we have the opportunity to change the direction our path has taken. What we make of them; the choices we make...alters who we are forever more. Those moments don't come often and it is up to us to recognize them...and choose. This was such a moment for you. You had come into this place and had an opportunity to be all that you presented yourself to be. The choice you made...the choices you make...follow you for longer than you know.

I wish that I could tell you how much I believed in you. I did, with all my heart. Within you lies the potential to be anything you choose to be. Within you lies the vision of what could be...what you choose to give up in pursuit of something less tangible...less real...less lasting. Still, it puzzles me that you speak so succinctly of what you search for...and then refuse to pursue it. I wish that you could explain to me...what you gain in the trade you make.

Each word I ever spoke to you was a truth...perhaps it was my truth, but it was the only truth I know. I want you to know that never did I lie to you. I believe you are a better man than you choose to show. Even today...still I believe there is more to you....than that which you choose to be. Beyond that...my feelings are my own and I will never share with you what you have done.

All of life is a choice. It is not my place to question your choices except as they intercept other people's lives. In this case...your choices had the potential to harm many more than just me. I accept that this is your choice...and I wish you always...peace, happiness, and someday...the greatest love. Perhaps it will guide you to the person you are so capable of being.

I wish you....more than you would wish yourself.
With love,

Arreana
12 Comments
Your Soul To Keep Nov 18, 2007 5:33 pm
1022 Views
It would be lovely if I could say it ended with that. It would make me feel better had he written castigating me for my words; angry over my questions. But…it didn’t…and neither did he. Instead, I received an answer. “Good Morning my love, I could never be mad at you, for my love for you runs too deep.” But…beyond that, I received the same responses I’d gotten before…meaningless. He felt that there was no reason to be sorry for the comments he wrote to other women. If they took the comments wrong, he was sorry; but he wrote them with “kindness”. I think I really knew then…but didn’t quite admit to it.

I wrote back explaining that it is my belief that if we lead a person to a place where they can be hurt…we are responsible for what occurs…on a spiritual level this is exactly what I believe. I was….totally unprepared for the response I received. I was totally unaware of what was happening in the background.

I received one more really beautiful e-mail from him…speaking of his love for me…and mine for him…immediately before he wrote a post that made it clear that no one on the blogs should consider him anything more than a friend. I didn’t see the post until I received a second e-mail from him some time later lashing at me for not believing in him.

Asking questions does not indicate a lack of belief…it is how we get past a place where we begin to wonder if there is something wrong…or if we are imputing our pasts onto a present relationship. His words were meant to hurt and wound…and they did it well. I wrote a very brief response apologizing for my words being hurtful…and wishing him well in his future journey along his path. It is my belief that we do not have a right…or a reason…to destroy one another when we choose to walk away from a place that is…not right for us. And then I saw his post…and I saw the distress he had caused to other people. I wrote one last brief note asking him to reconsider his choice.

I want to share his response because it devastated me. I have spent two days worrying…and crying…disturbed over this email.

“Ari my love,
Perhaps you’ve misunderstood our connection. You see, you, and only you, were the object of my desire. I talked with everyone, yet was never intimate with anyone else once I started writing to you. Ari, you hurt me so so much. And I didn’t deserve it. Can’t you see that now, that I didn’t mean to do anything wrong or hurtful. But I see that people are people and they can hear only what they want to hear. No one…has my e-mail address (and that address will be deleted after I send this message) because I’ve only talked with you on an individual basis. I am better off alone at this point. It is not your fault, you are a good and kind person, full of love, and affection. It is just my time to go that’s all. It is my choice to not be. No one will ever hear from me from this day forward, that is the honest truth, for I do not lie, or play. …. In accuracy is truth, therefore I hold myself accountable to everything I do. Perhaps this trail has taught me the hard lesson of being too friendly with strangers. Maybe I was best off not ever sharing, therapy is over rated, kindness gets trampled and I’ve worn out my welcome. Time to go.
I’m so sorry for anything that you feel accountable for, please know that I died without pain, and within me I’ve known the secret of everyone who ever believed in salvation. For I saw too much pain, too many days, and rest was so far from my reach.

All my love, your soul to keep”

These words are meant to wound…and they do. The idea of leaving someone worried that you will do something…irretrievable…is shattering. I have spent two days worrying about the outcome of this.

In my heart, I don’t believe he has any intention of harming himself. He chose the words he used well. “I’m sorry for anything that you feel accountable for, please know that I died without pain…” Those words are intended to make me feel responsible for his choices…for what I am intended to believe he chose.

And now…all the words are quite clear. Was it a game? I can’t say that. Did he choose his path? He did…at all times. Should I have seen this coming? Probably not this exact ending…but I should have responded to my doubts much earlier.

Not all people mean us well. While they may not intend to harm, their primary need and intent is to provide themselves with what they hunger for most…at any cost. By ensuring that I stayed…”enchanted”…he ensured that he had someone willing to feed that need. By writing as he did to others, he gave himself the opportunity to replenish from the endless well that FF offers once this one ran dry. Did it matter to him if he hurt me? I don’t know. What I do know is that it didn’t matter to him if he risked others….if he could say he did it with “kindness”.

The clues were all there. I chose to ignore them. I cannot blame him or anyone else for what I feel right now. I made the choices, the consequences are mine. When the signs point to a specific direction….pay attention…observe them…ask questions…and don’t go away uncertain. If you remain uncertain….something is wrong. Even if it means being pushy and risking that they will take it badly…ask the questions until you have an answer. If they don’t want to tell you…there is a reason for it.

Believe in your intuition…listen to your heart. It knows what your desires don’t want to hear. When your heart, your spirit, and you desires are in accord….you will know that it is right.

I wish you all…the stillness within which to listen to your heart, faith in your own instincts, and the wisdom to walk away….even when you desperately want to stay.
17 Comments
What do our words mean? Nov 18, 2007 3:49 pm
901 Views
By now I was filled with questions…and I really needed answers. I knew something was wrong, but I also know how hard it is for me to trust. Am I being unfair? So…in typical Ari fashion…I began to ask the hard questions…the ones I really didn’t want the answers to…but I needed to have.

Are you writing to other women as you write to me? Of course not. He swears I am the only woman he writes to. Still...it felt wrong...and I began to wonder if he was playing a game...if he needed all the women in the blogs to admire him....if he wrote his words of love and loving to every other woman. I dislike not trusting the people closest to me...yet...I couldn't quite put the thought aside.

Thursday, I received an answer to a blunt question I asked him...what is it you dream of finding...in a relationship...in a woman...what would bring you happiness. This was his answer:

"I dream of a lover which will join me but not be joined to me. A lover which wants me yet knows that I am hers and needs no proof in a tangible pact, but of knowing, and realizing that she is mine. Ari, I do not stray, I may flirt and play, yet no one has read any of the words I’ve shared with you. You are in my minds eye, My lover."

Now...I felt that was fairly clear. I thought it really bluntly stated that he was looking for someone to be...there when he wanted them to be...but not...truly there. Being me...I asked...to clarify. I didn't beat around the bush...I was up-front about it.

"I'd like to understand better what you meant by that statement. Your words are actually quite clear. It makes me wonder if you are...married, committed...something.

What you say you want...as I read it...is a lover...a mistress who will be there when you want to...enjoy them...and be absent the rest of the time...when perhaps you'd rather be flirting or playing with others. That's fine...if that's what you want. If it makes you happy...search for it with all your heart. It is not what you would find with me. When I love...I love with all of me. I want to feel eager to come home...to share my evening with someone who loves all of me...not just sex...but laughter, anger, pain, togetherness, conversation, dancing, walking, playing.... Life."

While I was at it...I went a step further...and asked once again...why...he would use the expressions he used in his comments to other women. It is my belief that if you “love” someone…their love and admiration are enough for you…you do not need every other woman to want you. I had two immediate reactions to the situation. First, I was worried about the other women he wrote these comments to. How did they feel about his words? Did they make each woman feel as if he were interested in them? Did he make them hope and dream as he did me? In the end…all I could see was that someone was likely to be hurt…whether it be me….or some of my friends.

I don’t want to say that he was intentionally doing anything to harm anyone. I don’t even want to imply it. I don’t really know what was at the bottom of his comments; but it was entirely possible that it was completely innocent. So…I simply asked him if he realized that it was possible other women could be hurt because they saw his words as an invitation…or interest in them.

I knew that the observations I made in my e-mail were likely to make him angry. I didn’t know him well enough to know how he would respond, but his comments made me feel as if he were…holding on to me while he waited to see if anyone else responded…or…as if he wanted to have every woman in the same position he had me. I didn’t like it…I wasn’t likely to tolerate it long.

What each of us chooses for ourselves is our own choice. I cannot find fault in that choice because I have not walked in your shoes…I have not lived your life. All I can do is make my own choices…even if that means that my choice takes me out of your world. In the end, I thought I was fairly blunt about my choice.

"No proof in a tangible pact"? What is that? Is love tangible? Is commitment tangible? Is a shared life tangible? Perhaps so...and if so...it is the choice I would make. However hard it may seem, I choose myself before I choose to put myself in a place where I will not be...happy...satisfied. What I want from tomorrow is not simply for tomorrow...but for all of my tomorrows. It is not for every minute of the day...but it will warm me every minute of the day. It is to know that I am the most important part of my partner's world...and they are the most important part of mine.

I hope that my words have not been harsh...they were not meant to be. You have all that you choose to offer. Choose what makes you happiest...and if your choice is that you want a hundred women worshipping at your feet to make you feel...wanted...choose that...but I cannot be a part of that. Flirting...is a lighthearted innocent thing...it does not...invite every woman to believe you want her...you hunger for her. I'm sorry...but that's simply hurtful for every woman involved. Long term...one or all will be hurt. I don't choose that for me...or for my friends…”

In the end….all we have is our own integrity…our own choices…or none of them.
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