Monday, September 18, 2000; 7:52 AM
Subject: Craziness at 2AM
What I wanted to tell you last night was that about five years ago I had a dream. I do not usually remember my dreams past a few seconds after I wake. This dream recurs occasionally, with some regularity, but not too often.

It was a dream about sleeping that wakens me almost violently. I am lying in bed on my right side. I am spooned against a woman with my arm over her and my hand holding her. I wake with a start and sit upright. I look around, usually in some sleep-fogged panic. She is not there. I am alone, and it is an empty feeling. I do not go back to sleep for hours.

Hence began my foray. I like living alone. The dream troubled me enough that I began to date much more, in the hopes that the dream was real. I still enjoy my solitude. I do many things alone and well. A poseur, a pretender, and an expert at many things. I also understand much better a man's need, not just my own, for intimacy in the 40's and 50's and beyond. It is not just to be married, though I came precariously close to marrying once again. It is the need for female friendship with someone that finishes my sentences for me. Someone that assumes a role in public for the purpose of some spontaneous spoof of which we are both part. To be the eighty-year-old couple holding hands as they help each other through the airport. To be the less sick half of a flu-ridden pair that rises to make the vegetable soup and bring two bowls back to bed. I still seek a girl that giggles, a lady at dinner, and a whore in bed.

I suppose those are the things that move me to love.

Now back to a bit of insanity and fun and other things less moribund. After your stern lecture, I am compelled to ask, one hump? or two?


Wednesday, September 20, 2000; 6:49 PM
Subject: Life Jacket
After the flood, there was a longing. The longing to have someone who understands you completely, accepts that, overlooks your insecurities and fears, and who through an amazing process manages to find something deep within you that you did not know was there, brings it to the surface and helps you to become a better version of yourself. The union of two individuals who although will always be two separate and distinct individuals become through the process something better than themselves.

Men's Passages by Gail Sheehey describes something she called intimacy. Some might call it friendship or even love. She said men may find this elusive entity in their forties and fifties. Her writing, there are four different Passages, certainly spurred me on. Exclusive relationships may or may not be part of it. I don't know.

I do know not to mistake attraction for love.

It is not such a difficult trip. Start off slowly. Close your book. Let a bit of the real world creep in. Before you know it your kids will be grown. Remember something; I am safe. Not a weirdo or web stalker. What you are doing right now is exploring your feelings. That is OK.

Or you can just stop writing and stop thinking about making new friends; the choice is yours. It is always hard when you make decisions that change the course of your life. Are you afraid?

My daughter came home sick after school today. She went to bed at six after only one phone call. This could be serious (not). I spent two and a half hours working on a dessert today. It is in the frig chillin til I cut that bad boy on Friday (my own recipe, mocha cheesecake).

One Green Eye