Current mood: I’m sipping some delicious red wine. The name of the label is Prophecy and it features a very delicate, florescent design of two lovers- Grecian urn style- standing in front of a rooted tree. Are they the Garden of Eden lovers? Are they more? Either way it was alluring enough for a girl who hasn’t been in a serious relationship in five years. If SENSUAL could be a wine, this is it.
I’m listening to Clarence Greenwood, an artist I recently discovered. There’s nothing like good music, and some good wine, to make you feel close to complete- after a long day, a much needed workout, a way to close out the night. Recharge.
I wonder when we die if we aren’t greeted by a parade of fallen lovers… all standing in a line from most innocent to most intense on either side of a golden walkway. Do we get to split into a hundred different versions of ourselves- each one being perfectly compatible with the lover that was lost. Are they glad to see us too?
Siting at the throne of his glory, on the right hand of Christ, is THE lover. Christ is in purple, and he’s in red. He’s got a single, long-stem red rose in his mouth. Red t-shirt, blue jeans- perfectly snug. He’s clean cut. Dirty blonde. Rugged in a way. His smile is electric. His eyebrows are chiseled. I’ve seen him before. I drew him once, in pain, but he’s past that pain now- he’s the elevated version.
Speaking of vision… last New Year’s Eve I had an interesting experience. I was dating a man named Manny who had a good job and was my height and passable handsome. I was waiting for him to make the hour drive to my place so we could head to a friend’s for the evening. I was dressed in a classic Hollywood fashion- up-do, gold dress, makeup flawless. And this fucker was late.
When I look back at it, his head kind of reminded me of a cartoon character. It was way too big for his body. He had a dark, shiny full-head of hair, big nose, big doe-like brown eyes, and a mouth that was permanently pouting. But I wont lie- I was pretty into it at the time. Call it lack of options.
Manny wasn’t so easily attainable. He wanted to do everything practical (like so many an outstanding gentleman I encounter). I am far from practical- and that’s putting it mildly. I did my fair share of chasing the poor chap to no avail. It was another lost cause- not miracle-worthy.
But the point is I remember being in that car with him (when he finally showed with vodka but no flowers- yes, I’m being harsh!). I had this creeping feeling, and I don’t know how to describe it other than to say it was the angel of God. This angel planted a seed of good into my superficial ear and somehow melted something into my heart. The message she sent was that he was not it. (Something I already knew but didn’t want to deal with). The second message was that next New Year’s (2017) I’d be with THE ONE. The situation would be the same- it wouldn’t be serious, we’d just be “dating.” But it would be it. Next New Year’s it would happen. And I’ve had that damn feeling all year long.
Now it’s at the point where a part of me feels foolish for acknowledging it and the rest of me is still determined to abide loyally to the promise. Only time will tell. I fear the disappointment. Until then, LOVER, I drink to you.