Not How I Like It

There is a big difference between having the stones for clandestine love and actually liking it. I have done my time more than once. In my youth I fell in love with a woman who was in the last of her marriage to a young man who thought he was going to hit in a rock and roll band. We connected and for the most part she was careful and did not allow us to actually make love much. It was not a secret though. He knew I was trying to take his wife. He knew she would leave him in any case, with me or no. She was older than him, older than me too by a little bit. She had tried for a ride on the rock and roll train. That one was a couple years long until my life blew up in a wholly different way that tore me out of it and on to another universe. At that same time she finally found the energy to sever her ties with that sad young man, who had lost his rock and roll dream and his wife to boot. That all finished in 1972. Rod Stewart was singing Maggie May at the time. I would sing it to her just to watch her temper flare. She was a little sensitive about her age.

"...the sun in your face really shows your age -
that don't bother me none, to me you're everything!"

From 1972 to 1999 - married and a career begun, moving to another state and moving twice more within that state following work - illness and divorce and financial distress - and then after more than a dozen dry years I met my lady of the moon and she swept me into orbit around the possibility of miracle. But really because of my long ago experience and many other eye openers, I knew we would not last but also that if I was to experience the gift it would have to be whole hearted and beyond that even. So that is where I went. She too was married. She too was divorcing. But in this case there was a secret and so were we also very low profile. This was necessarily clandestine, and with some help it remained that way. My dozen dry years came to an end and I returned to a vibrancy I had forgotten for longer than those dozen years. She was the third of my adult romances and in her way yet further confirmation that my heart doesn't choose all that well. Along with so many of us, I have what some call a broken picker.

After two years of romance and clandestine discipline she pushed me away. She could do nothing else. I have never condemned her.

Not How I Like It

You said I like it
naughty and I do but not
so far out of sight
nor sneaking around
nor having to tell stories
of staying home when
I've been doing her,
not that sort of thing, don't like
that at all, no ma'am.

December 20, 2009 7:11 PM