Scribbler's Cafe

At arm's length

(inked two weeks ago)

I am scared tonight, scared of loneliness and what it may bring. I think of knocking on doors, of riding trains to neighborhoods, of lingering entanglements. Yet something within says this loneliness is an experience I must suffer through, or else be destined to repeat. My love came too easy, too young. I have never been truly alone before – not like this. And even this current “truly’ may be debated with all my at arm’s length companions. Yet despite the outward appearance, arm’s length exists as quite an uncrossable ocean to me.

I can never hope to recover the quality of love that I have already experienced, so all I can hope for is to improve the quantifiable quality of man. These things I judge men by. Shall I lay them down for all to see?

Sure. Take a chance.

Intelligence. How many of my sentences must I repeat again in simpler terms? How many can I leave incomplete, or even unsaid, yet still fully understood?

Prowess and endurance. Is your heat all posturing, or in the night do you deliver with subtle sanctity, enduring with full presence of mind, body and heart?

Sense of self(determination). If I dress in heels and something bold, how do you hold yourself at my side? Do you keep your head high and your smile accessible? Do you know that you belong with a creature such as me? Do you feel pride - in me, in you?

Tenderness and strength. All important and utterly dependent on one another. It takes a great deal of strength to be tender with me. I am hard and challenging, quick thinking and quick moving. Most men retreat to self defense and bewilderment or bitterment. But those that extend to me tenderness and nurture I respect above all others. My mind machine is ruthless, but my heart is still that of a young girl.

*What you cannot see in this post are the snippets I removed. My best writing is always my most honest. It pains me to cut those passages away, yet I must. I name names and deeds and intentions and the lack thereof. My conspirators must breathe deep sighs of relief when I leave them clean and untouched - yet in retaliation I write that I lose a little respect for them each time I must keep their secrets for them.

posted by Scribbler @ Saturday, December 10, 2005