On Being a Poet

“To be a poet is to place pleasure, beauty and sensual delights front and centre, it means having a predilection for debauchery.”
― Nicole Brossard

“I have a dark and dreadful secret. I write poetry.”
― Stephen Fry

“...who shall measure the heat and violence of a poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?”
― Virginia Woolf

“They say that I am a poet. I wonder what they would say if they saw me from the inside. I bottle emotions and place them into the sea for others to un-bottle on distant shores. I am unsure as to whether they ever reach and for that matter as to whether I ever get my point across or my love.”
― Saul Williams

“...poets, and people with mental health disorders, can make people nervous.”
― Ian Sansom

“You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.”
― Edna St. Vincent Millay

“A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.”
― W.H. Auden

Dear Reader,

If you’re really there, especially you, the girl who often feels as I do, who struggles and falls, and feels oh-so-foolish... who dreams and hopes and works really hard... if you’re really there, you are the one who keeps me honest and raw.  You remind me that I can’t sugar coat my struggles, because that wouldn’t be fair.  You give me hope that my vulnerability will encourage someone, somewhere, if you’re reading here.  I began this post weeks ago, wanting to share what it's like to love a girl like me. And tonight, it's going a different direction than I originally planned. It will be emotional and messy.  I hope it makes sense enough to be worth reading.  Because tonight, I really, really need to write it, for my own heart.  

On Being a Poet

He calls me his Poet; I think it started because Ephemera was an unfamiliar word, and difficult to spell.  I didn’t mind at first, and now, it makes me feel cherished.  He praises my “poet heart” and expresses his love for my passion and emotion, and I am in awe.

Being a poet is probably no more difficult, or simple, than anything else, but I don’t really know.  I’ve only ever been who I am, and from a very young age, I loved language, and my love-language was language.  I have always been passionate, emotional and deep feeling, I have longed to be known deeply and understood deeply.  I did spend many years in my teens and twenties... and lets face it, in my thirties and forties... trying to tone down the passion and emotion, feeling I was too much, difficult to love, and overwhelming if I let down my guard and shared what I was really feeling deep down.  I still carry the scars of those messages that made me withdraw, and close off my full emotions.  I’m learning slowly, how to heal them, how to trust.  For the first time in decades I have felt safe - to not hold back with him.  My “too much” was celebrated instead of disdained.

He has always reminded me that he loves me just as I am... and needs a poet... this poet... in his life.  This year, she has done the same - writing to me, and verbally reminding me that though the parts of me that are mother, grandmother, friend, partner and even little girl are treasured and admired, what captured her heart was my passion and my poet-heart.  I am loved, wanted, needed, desired, cherished and celebrated.  This I know - deep down.

I am also messy, I struggle with emotion and depression, and am challenged by conflicts and insecurities when it comes to the practical stuff.  I battle with hopes and disappointments, with fears and flaws.  I know I’m not the only one.  I want to be clear that I’ve not been made to feel that I am the only one.  Still, lately I’ve been feeling my own struggles acutely.  I can acknowledge and celebrate that in the past year, much has changed, and I am abundantly blessed.  I have worked very hard, and have grown, we all three have.  I’ve also had occasion...several occasions... to have my flaws and insecurities uncovered.  I have been selfish, and unthinking, and I have had my share of failures.  I am not as good at this complex, poly, triad, long-distance, juggling, communicating, handling disappointment and staying positive thing as I would like to be.

Right now, we three are battle weary.

And I feel guilty.

It is very hard, resisting the urge to backspace over those four words and hide behind the rest of them... because tonight those four words are my difficult truth.  It is how I feel. I have more hard questions than easy answers, and though I am trying to make repairs, I don’t yet see how. I see the cost to the ones I love, and my heart is breaking.  

And that part about not seeing how  is not entirely true, because I have been listening, and I know that “next time” I will do some things differently.  I have learned some things from the words and tears we’ve shared.  I don’t have all the answers, but I do have some, and I am trying, oh how I am trying. I am not the only one who is learning as we go.  We each are fallible, and battling insecurities.  We each struggle with communication, and conflicts.  We are in this together, and our love for each other makes us strong, and motivates us to do this better.  We are all trying.

But we are so weary, and sore.

I feel so very much like I can only cling to this half-built raft, and rest while a storm of life keeps blowing. I can only keep repeating that I trust the love we share, and I am sorry for the hurt I’m causing in my struggle.  I can only keep reaching out to pull closer to those I love, those who love me, and keep believing in us.  I can only remind myself, every day, several times a day, to be grateful, and say thank you, again and again and again.

Soon, I will feel stronger, and so will he and she.  Soon we will sort out how to improve our building process, and I will learn to not tear down as we go.  This I believe.  And so, I will listen, and I will give, and I will be grateful.  I will try to communicate, and to trust.  I will not close part of my my poet-heart, even a little, out of fear.  And I will learn to be stronger, and find resources to help me grow and change.  Because though I feel guilty and weary, I have been so very happy, and am learning that happy is my own responsibility.  I will reach out for help, and choose gratitude, and practice the things I’m learning until I get it right.

And this makes me feel a little better than I did when I sat down to write.  

Being a poet is a messy business.  I am not sure I do it well.  But I am willing to work for as long as it takes, to admit my failures and apologize, to change my habits, and try new solutions.  I am willing to seek wisdom outside of my circle, outside of my family.  I am willing to do the hard work, because I love my partners more than this poet can find words to express.

Thank you, Reader, for listening, and sharing my road for a while.

She Loves Me with Coffee

          Maybe kissing is sort of like nature's coffee.

                                    Scott Westerfeld, Midnighters: Blue Noon, 2005


                                  “I'd rather take coffee than compliments just now.”
                                    ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
-- T. S. Eliot 

“Hydrogenated and androgynous milky white love is all I have to offer you. Would you like me to pour it in your coffee, or directly into your soul?
” 
― Jarod Kintz, The Days of Yay are Here! Wake Me Up When They're Over.

“Coffee and love taste best when hot” 

― African Proverb

“Life is a beautiful and endless journey in search of the perfect cup.”
― Barbara A. Daniels


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Dragonfly Girl drinks tea. I love tea, I drink it when I’m writing, or when I’m at work and it’s cold, and the coffee in the pot is old enough to become bitter... but in the morning, I love a slightly sweet, very creamy cup of coffee. There’s something about sunrise that tea just can’t handle, for me. Coffee is my morning friend.

But this post isn’t about coffee...it’s about love.

I am in love with a beautiful woman -- and she loves me.

I confess, I just spent a few minutes staring at that sentence. I never expected to find myself writing those words. Although I’m attracted to curves and softness and... yeah... I am...I didn’t set out with some agenda to dabble in the fairer sex or to find a relationship with a woman. I definitely didn’t plan to seduce or be seduced by the woman who loves my Sir... I didn’t plan at all outside of planning to know and support her relationship with him as if it were my own. I know neither of us planned beyond that. We simply trusted --- and love happened.

I’ve been quiet for a few months when it comes to blogging, unable to write. Work has been busy; family life has been crazy; my cup of love has been spilling over -- down my blouse, onto the sofa and the carpet --- staining my life with rich, deep color.

Perhaps I should take a few minutes to explain the details:

In short, Husband and I are well, happy and healthy. We celebrate 18 years of marriage this month. Shepherd and I are happy and healthy too. We celebrated two years last June. Dragonfly Girl and I have been happily exploring our relationship slowly, letting it unfold on its own, since last February. Also, she, Shepherd and I are discovering the joys of an “equilateral polyamorous triad” relationship.

Wow, those are loaded words. Let me offer a definition: “[A]n equilateral polyamorous triad means a total relationship -- social, emotional and sexual -- between all three partners in that triad relationship.” (source) I’m not gonna linger long on this subject, because that’s not the point of this post, but since I haven’t written in a while, I think it’s important to clarify. I am a poly girl in four different “primary” relationships with three people:

1. Ephemera and Husband (committed, forever partnership)
2. Ephemera and Shepherd (committed, forever partnership)
3. Ephemera and Dragonfly Girl (committed, forever partnership)
4. Ephemera / Shepherd / Dragonfly Girl (committed, forever, triad partnership)

In my life, each of these partners and each of our relationships is vital. No other relationships come before them. I love deeply, fully, and daily -- and my full energy goes into each, and in those terms, there are no secondary relationships in my heart or life. Yes, I am the crazy girl who fell in love with two people who live a whole state away. But we work really hard to make it work, and it’s worth it.

Detailed explanation addressed.

Now back to the coffee.

I first met Dragonfly Girl in a coffee shop. I believe she had tea. Shepherd introduced me to her shortly after they started dating, saying she might be someone really important in his life, and since we are openly poly, of course, he would like us to meet. I was nervous. It wasn’t easy. To be honest, I was afraid that since Sir had finally found a girl who lived nearby, he wouldn’t need one who lived 251 miles away. I could tell by his smile when he spoke of her that he was so very in love, and I was really feeling the distance. All my insecurities were running rampant. I will tell you this, as I sat down to breakfast with the two of them that morning, I was struck by two things. She has the most amazing smile, it lights up a room! She was gracious and genuine and sweet. and the only word that I could think of, both watching her with him, and each time she included me in the conversation, was that love spilled out of this woman in such great quantities there was no way the world around her couldn’t see it.

Several months later, at the height of a very difficult transition in our lives, Dragonfly Girl came to my home town to visit family. She took time out during that weekend to meet me for coffee and we talked for hours. She was incredible, beautiful and accepting. She shared with me about how important family was in her life, and how she needed me to be a part of her family forever. She had been defending me and lovingly standing up for me for weeks, against someone who wanted me to be ejected and excluded from Shepherd’s life. She insisted, on my behalf, that people are not interchangeable parts. Sitting there in that coffee shop, I was reminded again of what I’d seen months before in spite of my fear and insecurity. This beautiful woman was the real deal --- she lived love.

And she loves me.

Last month, I spent a weekend with my Dragonfly Girl, just the two of us. She met me at the airport looking so incredibly beautiful I couldn’t breathe. She’d dressed up just for me. I don’t know why but that thought makes me teary-eyed. She took me to dinner, a real Friday night-date, and we talked non-stop, holding hands across that table, sharing our hearts and our lives with each other. Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m right there again. The conversation continued, in the car on the way home... back in the cottage where we curled up in her bed and whispered into the night, kissing shyly. Both of us were sharing our hearts, speaking words of love and reassurance the other needed to hear. We talked until she fell asleep, and I laid there watching her smile in her dreams. It was amazing.

The next morning, she made me coffee.

She made a delicious breakfast, and we talked and talked and talked. We’d planned to go to the spa, and the balloon festival, and we didn’t even get out of our pajamas. We just poured our hearts into each other, and then later we ordered pizza, and laughed and cried and talked, and held hands, and kissed and talked... until we fell asleep again.

The next morning, she made me coffee.

Since it was Sunday, we did get dressed. We met Shepherd for church, and then brunch, and then dragged him back to the cottage to cuddle and talk some more... and before the day was done, they both made love to me. It was a perfect day. Shepherd left us alone that evening, and went back to his condo so she and I could have some time. After some more heart-sharing and cuddles, I fell asleep in Dragonfly Girl’s arms, with happy tears on my cheeks. For a poet girl, that’s pretty close to heaven. My flight was too-awful-early on Monday morning, and she didn’t mind driving me to the airport.

--- after she made me coffee.

Leaving was as hard as it’s ever been. But I made the most of every moment, and didn’t cry too much until I was alone at the gate. I flew home, drove straight to work, and headed in to my desk. On the way in I passed by the kitchen, as I always do, and I could smell the coffee in the pot. The aroma made me smile --- because she loves me with coffee.

Follow your hearts, and keep your feet, Travelers!

What I Would Say if You Were Still Reading

To Seoul:

Oh there are so many things to say, and so few. I miss you like hell, and I leave you messages still where you might read them and know. You were the first to show me what poly love was about. I wish I could talk to you now about how I've found my faith intact, and am happier than I ever thought possible. Your sense of boundaries and honor laid the groundwork for me, so I could learn how to live this life, and love my people with integrity and intensity. Your openness taught me that life is too short to hold back, or hesitate. I will risk. I will try. It's the only way to fly. I still walk in the rain. I still sit in the dark, and imagine. I still have a clock set to your time. I probably always will, just to remind me of the gifts you gave. You know where to find me, and I honestly believe that one day, beyond this world, we'll finally embrace. I'll be the girl puddle-jumping.

To Jester:
Yes, I know you still text me, that our distant, sporadic friendship is still intact, and I love you for that. It would have killed me to lose you completely. I am so grateful for the way you listened, you accepted the girlishness in me, and celebrated the fireflies, the special moments, the dreams and flights of fancy. You helped me to see myself in a different light, and gave me reason to believe in my own beauty, and emotion. You still have a way of reaching across the miles to let me know you're there, and with every connection I smile. I miss you like crazy. I hope you never doubt that. I'm happy about the life I have, and I'm glad you have some small part in it; we've known each other too long to walk away now. I still think of you when I grab my Burt's Bees. That damn song still catches me off guard. I still celebrate the birthday of the Marines, and I still wanna see your new tattoos. Someday, when things are different... we will do all that and more.

To No. 6:
I miss your laugh, and the way we could have marathon conversations about anything. I find myself wondering at random moments whether you joined the force, how your son is doing, whether you letterbox together. I can't go to that coffee house without thinking of Alestair Dorian. I think of you every February 3, and remember the day the Music died. I get it now, not the why, but the how, I suppose. You made the best choice, and it could not have been easy. I thought of you especially this last month when I went to Renne. I walked around all day holding hands with two lovers; you ignited the spark for that dream. When I think of you now, I smile. I whisper to the universe that I hope you are well, and your heart is filled with happiness and love. I hope you still believe in your amazing potential. I wonder if your smile reaches those striking grey eyes. I wish you every good thing, and still hope that someday you'll show up in my inbox, or on my phone. You can't blame a girl for wishing she hadn't lost her friend. Be well.

To Zephy:
I miss your poetry, your love of language, and the way you could teach me the most interesting, things with incredible insight for someone so young in the world. I miss the sound of your laughter, and your sense of humor. I think often of the woman who will become your wife, give you children, share your life. I know she's out there. I wonder if you're happy with your path, if you are proud of the man you're becoming. I wonder if you know how amazing you are. I think of you every time I hear the Beatles, and still have a soundtrack playing while I work. I learned from you that I choose to submit. I choose to honor the relationship, no matter how I feel at the time. I learned from you that there is nothing more moving than a poem spoken aloud. I learned that there's no obstacle that's not worth fighting to surmount, or tear down. I wonder if you know that you will always have a friend in me, even if you choose never to take me up on the offer. I would love to hear of your accomplishments, to celebrate them with you. I'd love to chat about language one more time. Don't ever lose that, please. Keep it safe in you. It's your strength, that passion. I know, it's mine too.

To others, and to each of these:
There are those others whose footprints I see on these pages once in a while. Each stops by silently, lingers a while, and leaves nothing but tracks. I would comment, but some things are better left unsaid. Just know I see the crumbs you leave behind. I wish you well, and even if you don't wish me the same, I can deal with that. The truth is, no matter what your wishes, I am happy, surrounded by people who love me, growing, changing and building that life we each spent so many combined hours dreaming and talking about. What I have now is beyond anything I could have imagined, and I'm working my ass off to nurture and protect it. You fill my thoughts so often, and I know I would not be who I am today without the fingerprints you each left on my heart and life. Thank you each for the part you played in making me believe it was possible, and worth fighting for. Whether you meant good or evil, I thank you. I am who I am today because of the choices I made with each of you. I'm proud of that.

I wish you well,


Ephe

Looking Glass

A year passed away, and the King took another wife. She was very beautiful, but so proud and haughty that she could not bear to be surpassed in beauty by anyone. She possessed a wonderful mirror which could answer her when she stood before it and said - "Mirror, mirror upon the wall, Who is the fairest of all?"

- Snow White, Grimm’s Fairy Tales

“Let's pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through. Why, it's turning into a sort of mist now, I declare! It'll be easy enough to get through--” She was up on the chimney-piece while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And certainly the glass WAS beginning to melt away, just like a bright silvery mist. In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly down into the Looking-glass room. - Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll (Chapter 1)

Mirror, mirror upon the wall...

Oh, wait. Wrong fairy tale.

For some reason I identify more readily with the girl in Lewis Carroll’s tales.

“I don't understand you," said Alice. "It's dreadfully confusing!"
"That's the effect of living backwards," the Queen said kindly: "it always makes one a little giddy at first." - Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll, (Chapter 5)

You may know her best from her adventures in Wonderland, where she was curiouser and curiouser, quite imaginative, overly polite, a bit mischievous, often brave and far too gullible. In the Looking Glass story, her imagination opens the mirror over the mantle and she slips through into a backwards, opposite, nonsensical world.

I’ve been fascinated with that opposite side of a mirror for quite some time, perhaps since I was a very small girl. In the past few years, I’ve been that girl chasing the rabbit, falling down the rabbit hole, wandering in a world that was magical and unbelievable, frightening and fantastic. And in the recent months, I’ve had several magical encounters with mirrors that weeks later still hold my attention, fast.

Shepherd has been consistently good about being my mirror, he reminds me who I am and what I want, he celebrates me. Husband is beginning to be a sort of mirror for me too, he is seeing me differently, and I catch an occasional glimpse in his eyes, even the Dragonfly Girl is beginning to be a mirror for me of what it’s like for someone else to love Shepherd as I do. She loves me too, and that’s too magical for words yet. Recently we spent another weekend together, She, Shepherd and I, and at one point in the hotel room, the three of us met in crossing before the mirror, and embraced one another. The love I saw in the reflection filled me with wonder, and so many of the fears and insecurities built up over the past months melted away. In that mirror that keeps reflecting me, I see a woman who is valued, loved and wanted. I am surrounded by love, and I truly believe that feeling that love, seeing that love, trusting that love on the inside, makes me more beautiful on the outside.

There’s more though; isn’t there always?

I’m growing, changing. It’s not just about the emotional growth, though for me that’s a huge part of it lately. I am also changing as a person, in terms of what I like, what I enjoy. I recently stood before a mirror for a scene with Sir. I was restrained, I was beribboned, and I my eyes were wide with a mixture of adrenaline and wonder while he traced my flesh with the blade of a knife. I watched the light glint off of the blade in that glass reflection. I watched my breathing quicken, then stop, then spill out in a rush. I watched his hands, steady and slow, a matching glint in his eyes, and the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. I watched that same smile draw gently at my lips. It was a strange and wonderful thing to both feel our energy, and watch it reflected in the mirror, as though through an outsider’s eyes. I saw many thing that night in Sir, that did not really surprise me. I saw in him love and desire, and the hunger of the Wolf I know. I saw in me something fairly new. I’m not sure it’s a surprise, but it is a change. It’s the evidence that I’ve grown and am learning myself better. I saw a woman more comfortable in my ‘wild’ skin than I’ve ever been, more sure of what she wants, what her appetites are, and what she might want to explore in the future.

Mirror, Mirror upon the wall...

I used to avoid mirrors. I didn’t like the reflection I saw there. It confused me, it disappointed me, it didn’t fit with who or what I thought I wanted to be, needed to be, to find my happiness. But I’ve learned from the me I see reflected in the eyes of those who really see and celebrate me. I am lovely. I am alluring, attractive, and appealing. I am sexy, and good and real. Sometimes I gaze for long moments into the eyes of that pretty, awkward, giddy girl staring back at me. We share a secret, she and I. It’s there, twinkling in her eyes and tugging at the corner of her smile. Sometimes she simply nods back at me, “I know... soon.” Other times, she smirks mischievously, and crooks her finger, inviting me to escape into the magical world on her side of the glass.

There really is a wonderland, on the other side of that mirror, where this Poet is loved and celebrated for being emotional, creative, passionate and polyamorous. There is a place filled with twisted and kinky fun and incredibly spiritual and moving power-exchange. There is a family there waiting, my family who loves me, wants me, and can’t wait to see me again. And when I do escape to their world, they will play and cuddle and tease and love me. They will honor me, include me, and celebrate me. They will bundle me up in love and send me back to this world when it’s time, filled with all the memories and knowledge of their love. And they honor every part of who I am in this world, mother, wife, daughter, sister...they love the girl on both sides of the mirror.

And you know what? So do I.

Everybody Heals with Love

we have fallen down again tonight
in this world it's hard to get it right
trying to make your heart fit like a glove
what it needs is love, love, love

everybody, everybody wants to love
everybody, everybody wants to be loved

happy is the heart that still feels pain
darkness drains and light will come again
swing open up your chest and let it in
just let the love, love, love begin

everybody knows the love
everybody holds the love
everybody folds for love
everybody feels the love
everybody steals the love
everybody heals with love

-- Everybody - written by Ingrid Michaelson

(stripped down from the song lyrics)

youtube video

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"Eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is.”
- Gary Zukav

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“She's got a smile that heals me
I don't know why it is
But I have to laugh when she reveals me.”
- Billy Joel

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“Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason.”
- Novalis

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Sometimes relationships hurt.  Relationships where there are more than two people involved are no different in that they can hurt, they can leave scars, they can be really, really difficult to manage.

Sometimes in a polyamorous configuration one relationship ends, and the fallout, the pain, the scars and the aftermath of that breaking apart process can hurt more than just that one relationship.  Sometimes wounds go deep, and translate into pain and insecurity that continues to spread out beyond the original source.

I have always written honestly on this blog, because this is my journey, and writing the truth helps me find the road, and make sense of the map.  I have been silent though, about many things, out of respect.  Things that were too painful to write about.  Things that came out of hurts caused by others in my love-life and my extended-love-life.  The past year has been so very messy for me.  Truth be told, messy is nothing new, but this messy has been a painful, frightening, overwhelming kind of messy that has caused everyone involved - at one time or another - to consider what it would be like to either lose everything or walk away.  

I don't know if I've been completely clear here about my family structure, though there are bits and pieces.  I won't draw the whole 'white-board' diagram, and I certainly won't include all the pieces, but for the sake of this post, there are three central players and one secondary one who I might never mention again after this post.  When I met Shepherd, he was the primary partner of Sheperdess. A year after he and I met and began a secondary relationship, he began a secondary relationship with Dragonfly Girl.  Today, Sheperdess is no longer part of our lives.  In the midst of all this turmoil, we've fought for each other, and battled our own scars and insecurities.  

For me, one of the hardest things about it all has been feeling disconnected. I am a whole state away from everyone else in this family.  Much of the communication on my end is brief -- text messages, emails, second-hand conversations.  This is just a product of the distance, and the limits when it comes to time and nearness, or the lack thereof.  It also comes from the fact that we are all still learning.  We have weaknesses, personal challenges, we are scarred and wounded, in our own ways.  Making space for others to fail and be human, to need forgiveness and patience... this is something I want so badly for us, and something I find sometimes very hard to do. I get hurt.  I get emotional.  I cry and feel insecure, and too intense, like I'm asking for too much, or expressing too much raw feeling.  Shepherd calls it my poet heart.  To me it's a blessing and a curse.

Over the past several weeks, and especially the week that led to our most recent weekend together, that communication issue led to some words and tears and frustration.  -- It turns out that that weekend became a shared one between the three of us.  Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, and we let our guard down, it was a great opportunity to hang out and enjoy family, to get to know each other better, and plan for the future. We met at a local bed and breakfast in my hometown -- a lovely turn of the century home, with a spacious room that had two beds.  We talked, and planned and laughed and cried. We filled that room with love, and healing.

I know that my own jealousy is rooted in insecurity.  I am a poly girl.  I have loved many.  I do love many, I will love many.  It's how my heart is made.  But my insecurity is.  It just is.  I am growing, learning, becoming less insecure... and yet, I still feel it sometimes.  There has never been a time when I saw Shepherd being affectionate with another woman -- particularly those with whom he shares or has shared a committed relationship -- when I did not feel a twinge in my core, a feeling of anxiety and discomfort.  I have always chosen my response.  I've reminded myself that I love Shepherd, and that I particularly love his capacity to love others.  I have chosen to be happy that others are there, in his life, committed to love him in a way or time or place that I cannot.  I have chosen to celebrate his loves, to support them, to encourage them, and to  work to foster a feeling of trust and safety, of family and respect among his loves.  I think it's very common that poly people feel this twinge, and choose how to handle it. Perhaps compersion is just a happy feeling that some people feel naturally... but for me, compersion is a choice.

I stated moments ago that I have never not felt that twinge when seeing Shepherd share affection with another.  It is true.  It was true.  Until our most recent weekend.  Surrounded by such intense love, acceptance and affection, I kissed Dragonfly girl.  It was unexpected.  It wasn't spur of the moment.  I chose, after thinking through what it might mean and what it might lead to.  I felt safe, comfortable, eager to express affection and yes, curiosity.  I kissed her, and she kissed me.  And it was amazing.  We did fill that room with love and healing.  We shared a love that didn't belong to any one, or two of us.  We shared something that up to this point had been separate parts of a whole.  The lines blurred, and love flooded me, flooded us.

Some of the most amazing moments came when tangled up in the same bed I could lean in and kiss Dragonfly girl tenderly, and then gaze into her eyes with wonder and just over her shoulder see Shepherd's smile, the same wonder and joy in his eyes.  When he would reach for me, and touch me tenderly, then lean in and kiss her softly I felt it every time.  The kiss, the touch, the love.  There was no sense of someone else receiving affection and me being left out... I don't think anyone felt left out, except maybe Shepherd once in a while.  Writing that sentence makes me smile, because though Dragonfly girl and I both worried about him feeling a little disconnected from our exploration and discovery of each other, every time I looked at him he was grinning like a Cheshire.  Every time I looked at her, her smile lit up the room like a beacon.  I felt like I was fairly glowing with love and wonder.  It was something so amazing, so wonderful and so very unexpected that I am not sure I'll ever find the right words to describe what it was like.

I do know this...

I want to do it again, and again, and again.  Everybody heals with love.  Shepherd, Dragonfly Girl, me.  What we shared in that beautiful room this weekend was life-changing, and the healing still flows as we email, telephone and text each other in the days since.  There are no labels for it, no expectations, only love.Pure and simple, and incredible... for everybody.

(And I can't stop humming Katy Perry)
         

Follow your feet, and your hearts, travelers...