I can be overly concrete.  Typically, I get fired up too, which could be part of my genetic make-up given that I’m Italian on my Dad’s side, but some of it too, probably comes from the nurture side of the house.  Experts in neurological research say that part is 40% of who we are (our experiences and social learning) is how we are raised and environmental influences.  My father flew off the handle all the time, and because I was terrified that I was that way too, I tend to seethe.  Could be because I’m a Virgo-Scorpio 😉

I haven’t screamed in a long time.  I did in October of last year.  My ex was fucking with me.  At that point, we hadn’t had sex in about three-weeks, so she was chatting with me on the phone like she did once or twice a week.  She said, “We are just not priorities in each other’s lives right now,” during our chat.  But, I heard, “We are just not a priority in your life right now.”  I lost it.  It was pent up stuff that she had always projected on to me regarding how I didn’t hustle for her, didn’t meet her needs, and wasn’t right for her.  That is the last time that I raised my voice and was irrational.

I talked with my partner last night on the phone.  So funny, because it’s rare for us to not be sleeping next to one another now, but I just had to talk to her before I went to bed, so I did.  I’m prone to worry.  We both tended to agree that we won’t fight actively, but will instead have spats and little tense moments of speaking in mean tones, etc.  I need to tell her that what works when we are under stress is quiet for both of us.  One time we wound up being in bed an entire day and ate very little.  We had to power eat two meals nearly back to back and were both slightly edgy.  We took turns cooking parts of it while the other was pretty quiet and either wrote or listened to music.  Adding down time when we are stressed is good.  I also told her that we need a fighting journal.  She can write down her impact of stuff that I do and say, and then I can read and validate it.  Seems good.

I dated a woman pretty recently at the end of summer and the beginning of fall.  She is a mess and not consistent.  Those girls are attracted to me.  I’m boring and stable.  When she got withdrawn and did some push-pull, I just disengaged from her.  She was pretty and all that, but I want a lot more than good-looking.  I didn’t understand well, being concrete, why she meant much of anything to me.  Much of her was the idea of her–four boys and into me.  My son doesn’t even mention her kids, because he saw them twice, I think.  Anyway, I’m actually getting things now as I piece stuff together.

In a couple of vivid dreams that I had, my partner was in them.  In one dream, she was riding a horse in a stall on a grainy video shot when she was a child.  I closed my phone–I thought because it was a film of my ex-although the video was my partner, and at that time, I was not ready to be with my partner.  In another dream the woman who I dated tried to give me a gingery brown cat, and one of my readers asked what the cat meant.  It didn’t mean what I thought that it did, because it was my partner.  I wasn’t ready to tend to her quite yet.  I tried to give her back.

I have a friend who introduced the woman who I dated a bit.  She kept telling me that I was in love with this woman; although, I knew that I wasn’t, I danced with the idea that somebody had my heart.  She has.  She always has.  But, it was not the woman who I was with.  It was my partner.

Looking at her pictures on FB five or more years ago with our friend caused me to wish that she would move back home.  It was a pull.  It was a draw.  When she got off of the couch to shake my hand and flash that gorgeous smile of hers in the summer of 2012, I felt it everywhere.  We became good friends.  Now, we are where we are supposed to be.

We put together the frame of the picture in June of 2012, and I had started with some corner pieces and edges.  She filled in pieces of unusual size while she let me into her heart as a good friend.  Then we put the whole thing together when I told her, “I need to see how this feels,” while taking her by the hand, pulling her against me and then nuzzling the nape of her neck and kissing the notch at the base of her throat.  Everything is together.  I can see the picture.  I had posted a real picture in reference to the wrong woman in this blog, and only now do I know exactly what was on that horizon.