Monday, April 18, 2011

Treasure Hunting

I am a lover.

The more that I go through life the more that I realize this. I didn't come to this Earth as someone who was meant for a hug now and then, or a deep conversation with someone over coffee once a month. I was born the child who wanted to be in someones arms all the time and can't get enough physical affection, hugs, kisses, cuddling in bed and analyzing of life. It's all my thing and I cherish those moments when they do happen. And as for deep conversation, if no one is around, I will have one with myself. But I do prefer a partner to sit and analyze the depths of life with me.

I am the girl whose attraction meter breaks every time she is with someone new (and those things are not easy to repair, let me tell you). I see a man I like, heart and body, and suddenly I find myself passing by men that I KNOW I would find attractive on a normal basis but nothing happens. I see, and I pass by. Not a thought of "look at this gorgeous guy" in my mind, but only an almost undetectable noticing. Like I said, my meter breaks. It gets stuck on the one person. Stuck. STUCK STUCK STUCK! And it stays that way for quite some time.

I am not the get over it girl. And if I've liked a soul, I mostly like them forever. Even the ones I wish I didn't like anything about, my mind drifts back to whatever positive I can find in them and it clings there. Like it's my only rope to survival.

The truth is that I love my fellow human beings. I try to find and see so much good in people that I trick myself into ignoring the tell-tale signs of the not-so-good-for-me ones. The surface can be very obviously flawed and I'll still excavate the hell out of someone for that shiny little artifact in them. Maybe sometimes it's just the persons eyes. Other times there's a little piece of their heart that I find... and sometimes they don't want to keep it. Maybe a sense of humor, and a lot of times there is so much good in people that I just want to put the entire soul into my pocket and carry them around forever.

I have a hard time letting go of those ones. But so many times people enter and exit your life. Sometimes with words, sometimes not. Sometimes they leave you those artifacts you excavated, other times they snag them and take them with them and all you can do is remember. But the point is that I must keep them in a log book or something, because if you've touched my life, I remember you. And chances are that in one way or another, I loved you:

The one girl who moved so much that my mom and I asked her to live with us for a couple months in the summer, and after that I don't remember seeing her but once again. I still look for her online, hoping I can find a way to be in touch.

The guy I thought was my dad for several years of my life. He said some terrible things during that last phone conversation, but I still have such affection for him. I still see that gem somewhere in him and have to remind myself not to call him my father.

His wife. I still remember looking at her for the first time in person and wanting to be her, she was so beautiful. And for a while she was kind. I still hold on to that.

And then there's the boys. Ah, how I gather little trinkets from them.

There was that cute little boy on the playground when I was 4. I remember very clearly chasing him around during the playground kissing game. I got him. I still have the souvenir memory of his blushing cheeks and my sense of accomplishment. I believe this is where my struggle with chase vs. be chased came around. The chase certainly is fun!

The boy on the beach, a wave coming on the shore, his holding my hand and that little kiss on the mouth in his blue children's swim trunks and my blue and white checkered one piece with the stomach and back cut outs. He got a ninja turtle "tatted" on his face that day. I got a mermaid on my arm. Too cute. I learned from him never to lose your tender playfulness.

Derrick and his sensitivity and patience in taking a personality test in a book over two hours of time when we could have been making out. His eyes were so gorgeous it was a flaw. He taught me that pretty isn't the only thing that counts. Chemistry is key.

Brett. The man who told me he'd been with a man and wasn't sure he wouldn't try again as he was sucking my "cherry toes", making me laugh, and giving me up-side-down kisses that are like "pineapple up-side-down cake--strange but irresistibly sweet". Friends didn't work out so well, but years later I see the part of him I liked the most is still there. He talks to every living thing from energy to plants. It makes me smile. I'm glad he's married to an apparently amazing woman. However brief his appearance in my life, he really made an impact spiritually, and helped me indirectly in writing an entire chapter in my life.

Brian who on the very first, but somehow not the last date came right out and spilled his guts from wanting to sleep with me to all of his drama with his last ex and his sobriety. I got a few free Starbucks out of this, a dance, some confidence and some entertaining stories. His treasure was already on the surface: his vulnerability. Heart on his sleeve. Good for him for being so brave. I appreciated his disclosure and took that to heart. To this day I always try to remind myself to let it all hang out on a first date. Nothing to hide.

Marcus who told me from the start he was an "asshole" sometimes, and who I insisted was not. Marcus taught me that men are complex creatures, and that they will tell you, pretty much on the first date, what they are, and what they aren't. And in following encounters they will prove it to you. Marcus taught me the importance of listening and decoding a man. An art that I am sure takes a lifetime to master.

Ken, my dear ex fiance. Had either one of us been a little less smart, we'd likely be married and miserable today. Two years later, I find that from him I learned, most importantly, to go with your gut instinct. Next, the importance of it never getting old to take pleasure in holding hands in just the right way, cuddling in long lines at Disneyland and taking goofy photos. It is important to feel that a man could be a woman's super hero and save her from the world. That when you leave the house in anger at midnight for the first and only time it is a rather important display that he follow you down the street and not simply let you go. Same goes in the reverse situation. I learned that it is important for a woman like me to maintain my independence in any relationship and still be able to provide for myself in one way or another. That it is important for both parties to not only say that they want 100% communication, but to also give it willingly, even if it's scary to do so; and that travel and adventure, to some, is not as important as it is to another. While one person can wait 'til they're 60 and retired to see the world, another knows that 60 years on Earth is not guaranteed and you'd better live it up while you can.

Time has passed, and I have been excavating the treasures within myself. Making sure that I have not buried any too deep to easily bring to the surface.

Along the way I stumbled upon--or rather someone stumbled upon me. We spoke. And I learned another lesson. When busy and talking to someone, stay busy. Don't re-arrange life to accommodate someone. If it is meant to be, life will rearrange itself. If you move things around, you can lose your original path a bit and this can be unnerving. Don't go to the high board and give your best, most disciplined dive into the waters below. Instead, run from the side of the pool and cannon ball. In time there will be the opportunity to give it your best and go for the gold in diving. But it is essential to first play and get to know the waters.

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