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3

I let the classical music pour over me, drink some sparkling water and take this time for myself to write. Clearing my thoughts that are whirling around my head. My head is pounding. A mixture of last night’s pot, wine and good company. A friend is coming over later. Have I picked the right gift to express my gratitude for his contribution with all the editing etc? Should I make a dinner invitation tonight? Will I get all my work done in time before the sun goes down? People are always in my mind. They rarely know how much of my mind they consume. The amount of times I have walked past some beautiful bars of chocolate, and thought of who I would like to share my affection with. M is on my mind. Our game began playfully and sensually, full of wanting. The game of attraction is like tennis. To keep the game going, you must not drop the ball. Time has been passing slowly for me in regards to M being away in Spain. I am tossing a ball, and feeling more and more as if he is dropping them. Resetting the game to begin another day, and the energy is waning along with his affection. Was it ever there? I feel my disappointment. I feel my powerlessness. My lack of control over whether this tall, dark and handsome Spanish man develops a strong enough affection for me to become an important feature in his life . Last night over wine and pot, a friend of mine, who is in his late 70s revealed to me that he has a girlfriend in Paris who is in her early fifties. They visit each other regularly, and have a strong affection for one another. He confides in me that for some time now in their four year relationship, the sex has vanished. He told her he would need to take a lover in Gozo. Go ahead, she said, I’ll leave you. Time passed, and he repeated his needs again. I will need to take a lover  if sex has disappeared from our relationship. Do what you need, she said. 

He’s looking for a lover. I know he has me in mind as one possibility. I ponder the possibility for my amusement. I like to explore everything, asking why? Why not? My mind is my own house where I can entertain any thought I like. Even the thought of entertaining a much older lover. I love his home. It is the height of sophistication and creativity. He has had one hell of an interesting life, designing for the likes of Elton John and Paul McCartney. We talk about our lives, about art, and then we put on some music. I sing. You really have a great voice he says. I’m mindful to be swept up by the compliments of men. I know that my deficit for attention and love can create a need in me that has pulled me towards men that can only fill up my cup momentarily. He is in love with his woman in Paris. I see the gifts he chose for her for Christmas, and I see the love, and the care to choose something which she will really love. I wonder why love has been shy of me. What is it I need to draw it close? What kind of invitation is needed, more obvious that the one I send out? 

I often go through a checklist in my head, of ways in which I can improve. Love hasn’t found me. It must be something I am doing wrong I conclude. In what way am I not enough? In what ways do I lack what a man needs and wants in a woman? I know this street is not a good one to go down. It leads to a dead end where confidence is lost and sadness seeps in. I do not want to entertain that today. The only question worth asking is

How well did I love today?

In this question, I must include myself. 

I sit here at my desk, listening to the soundtrack of Amélie Poulain and realise I am cold. Why do I sit here cold and not warm myself up? I would never expect a loved one to sit in a cold house without making an attempt to make them more comfortable. I pause, and think to myself, if I treated myself the way I would love to be treated, what would I do differently?. The way I would treat my loved one, what would that look like? I would go and get the electric blanket from my room and put it on my seat. I would find something soft to sit on, and a cushion to lean into. I would clean the keyboard of my laptop so that it is more of a pleasure to tap away at my thoughts. Looking down to shining silver. I would adjust my chair so that the chair leg doesn’t rub against my leg. I would put on a light to take away the dark shadows to my left. Fill a bowl with some nuts and fruits, and make myself a warm turmeric latte. Wow! It had not occurred to me how often I treat myself so minimally. I remember someone saying that our internal and external world are a reflection of one another. This is the art of self love. I often neglect myself. Tired and resentful as I sometimes am that I must always be the one to nurture and nourish myself, without the care of a significant other. Men are showing up in my life, who want to spoil me. It’s nice to be romanced. I enjoy the care like a starving dog, taking what’s there, and hungry for more. I need attention, affection and care. But I am receiving word that first, I must practise giving it to myself.