Pins and needles

Ever have a leg or an arm go to sleep and then move and feel that horrible pins and needles sensation of returning circulation? That always made me long for the numbness again. Returning circulation can be incredibly painful but it's necessary. Without circulation our limbs would die and rot off or have to be cut off and when that happens, if you don't get to them in time, the rest of the body dies. Emotions can be like that, too.

If you've spent most of your life, or even a good part of it, denying your emotions, numbing yourself so that you can't feel anything, not even happiness, and suddenly your emotions kick in because you fall in love or wake up or have an epiphany, the pain is just like the pins and needles of returning circulation. Most of us don't like pain and we long for the numbness, for the time when we didn't feel anything or know that such pain existed, but unless we let emotional circulation return we die...slowly and painfully, rotting at the soul's core.

It's so seductive, that feeling of numbness where you can't feel anything, and the pain of returning emotions is almost more than you can stand at times. I know. I've been there. You just want the pain to stop. But you have to endure the pain in order to live, and living is far better than dying slowly or your soul rotting away. The thing is that once you allow your emotions to surface, get thru the awful pins and needles, you don't have to endure that pain any more. There will be other pains, but none so bad as the pins and needles. Believe me, it's worth it to feel again. Not all tears are to be avoided. Some of them cleanse our hearts and our souls like a fresh spring rain after a long dry winter.

Spring fever

Spring isn't even here yet and I'm feeling the itch, the need to get outside and breathe the fresh air, walk the snowy trails, and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin again. I feel antsy.

I ran some errands earlier today, dropped some books in the drop box at Safeway because I hadn't planned to go to the library, and then changed my mind and headed to the library on the way home. I felt like watching movies. Eyes glued to the movie titles, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and bumped into someone. When I looked up I found myself staring into a familiar pair of deep brown eyes glinting with amber flecks and smiling down at me. "You should have used your turn signal," he said.

It isn't the first time I've literally bumped into him either. He runs the monthly book discussion group at the library. "Is this the only way I can see you?" he asked as he took my movies from me, and put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me carefully thru the stacks to the check out desk. The last book discussion was on The Odyssey and on my birthday, but I was going out of town and didn't make the group. He told me the next book is Machiavelli's The Prince, a book which I have read, but I'm going out of town again.

As I waited for the girl to get the DVDs from the back, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Since I'm not going to see you in the group, how about dinner some time?" I smiled at him, scooped the movies into my bag and headed for the door, my cheeks burning. He followed, took my bag, and even opened my car door for me. I felt my ears getting very warm. "How about it? You owe me for bumping into me again."

A few moments of chit chat later he pulled my business card, which he had wangled from the children's librarian with whom I discuss children's horror books, and told me my email address was wrong. I explained I hadn't realized that at the time. He handed me the card and a pen. "Then how about giving me the new one?" He smiled at me again and his eyes crinkled at the corners. I got into the car and mumbled something about getting home. Before he shut my door he said, "At least I know the phone number's good and you look good with color in your cheeks." I drove away feeling very shaky.

He called tonight and we talked for an hour. I didn't recognize the phone number and picked up the phone, half asleep at the time. He's intelligent and has a great laugh. He's single, tall (6'3" tall), with thick dark hair and those deep brown eyes with the amber flecks. There's something about him or maybe it's just spring fever. Then again, it could be nothing more than the one I love is far away and seems uninterested in seeing me any time soon. I don't know.

What I do know is that I enjoyed his compliments and his flirting. For the first time in a long time it was a pleasure seeing the look of desire in a man's eyes when he looked at me. It was a pleasure talking to him and laughing with him. And I'm confused.

Maybe it's just being alone for so long. Maybe it's missing the one I love. Maybe it's just being seen as a desirable woman by a man who isn't afraid or unwilling to let me know he finds me alluring. Maybe it's...

Dreams or memories?

It's not spring yet and I feel the definite stirring of warmth and movement in my blood. My dreams have turned to subjects both hot and redolent with the scent of spent and still spending passions. Last night was no exception.

The first thing I felt was surprise at seeing him. We stood inches apart, I waiting for him to move and he waiting for some internal sign that what he felt was real, those few seconds stretching interminably, both of us holding our breath, my eyes questioning and hopeful, and his eyes blazing bright and full of emotion. He had asked for time and I gave it gladly, certain of what I knew and the words we had shared. He reached for me and I melted against him, reaching my arms around his neck while his arms pulled me against him, curve and hollow fitting as if fashioned for each other. He murmured the words we had sent spinning along electronic pulses against my lips as another deep connection was made, unmade, and made time and time again, the words echoing in our twinned heartbeats. Dressed in fall warmth, he still in his jacket, we were suddenly too hot and too cold, merging heat and desire long delayed and even longer denied.

I rose on tiptoe and felt the throbbing swell of his need pushing, probing, nestling against flushed, swollen, sensitive lips yearning beneath imprisoning cloth. Breathless and eager we pulled apart, eyes locked, seeking, searching and finding mirrored thoughts no words could adequately express. Once more he captured me against the solid strength and safety of his chest, hearts fluttering in perfect time, kissing me and murmuring those simple words again and again until we were both drunk and reeling, laughing, crying, breathless.

We walked to the safety of the living room where bright sunlight shattered the soft silence, warming bird and animal throats in a hymn of joy in being alive. Quivering with excitement we talked, kissed, touched, discovered, memorizing each other in rich sensory detail, dipping again and again in the taste, smell, sight, sound, and feel of new and yet well known territory, certain of what lay beneath our clothes.

His long legs were not made for my love seat and love was hampered by the lack of space, so I led him to a more comfortable arena, tucked away in the back where glancing rays of sunshine glistened on views of towering pines, blue sky, and snow-tipped peaks.

--To be continued...