Romance versus writing

I follow my heart, for I believe passion will always reveal truth.

My heart has been my teacher, my mentor if you will. My heart has been a tough master.

I find myself intrigued once again, and my writing has less interest now.

I am intrigued by an old friend. He has been with me since childhood, destiny perhaps.

We met for drinks  to discuss my writing, for I found him again on the Internet and sent him a note asking if he remembered me. Of course he did, for we were lovers many years ago.

Different paths, different educations, different outcomes. Opposites? Attraction?

He is quiet. I am brazen. He has few lovers. I have many. He is alone. I am alone.

I am attracted.

He has things to teach me. I have things to teach him.

Learning about ones-self through another, that is love I believe.

We had drinks, wonderful hugs, and I kissed him shyly, like we never were lovers.

I intend to spend time with him. Old friends are the best.



Reliving lovers

I’ve been frolicking with past loves, reliving momentous moments, and am not sure how much I shall put in my ebook or book.

What attracted me to some of my loves was that all they needed was a little guidance from me and they would be greater. Confidence, that’s the word. They appeared to me to lack that extra level of confidence to make them greater.

It’s not that they weren’t already great in their particular realm of business, and for me every activity was business, whether the man was a doctor, lawyer, CEO, banker, salesman, or entrepreneur. Or some bum on the street whom I admired for his gumption.

I had my style of interviewing lovers who I felt could fit well with my group of boys, and if the potential lover passed muster there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to ensure my group accepted him warmly.

Some lovers failed my interviews miserably, became jealous or threatened physical harm. One or two reacted quite physically, thinking brawn won battles when it is really brains. They were just stupid. Summarily dismissed they would look not at them-self for answers, preferring the easy way of blaming others for their misfortune.

The stupid, stupid, toads. They had kissed the princess who could bring them the world but, like a dog with a bone, they snarled and snapped at the thought of someone else sharing their pleasures. Small minded cretins, that’s what they were, small minded cretins!

But there were handsome princes who passed muster, discovered more about himself and his understanding of the world through my guidance, and those wonderful lovers, those wonderful forces of nature and business who understood you could mix business with pleasure quite marvelously, those are the delightful creatures I’ve frolicked with these past few days.