Eclipse: New Beginnings

Deborah Turbeville

August 1, 2011

And after that night, nothing would ever be the same. 

I wish we'd recorded our conversation so I could replay every single moment of it. What we said was a testament of how deep our love was, how connected we truly were. It was a true example of what it means to fully understand and respect another human being.

I'm not sure anyone could ever understand how we can walk away from this, when it’s clear there is something beyond our conscious level of understanding that bonds us together.

But, I don't see this as walking away.

The last 2 hours were some of the most honest, incredible and powerful moments that I've been privileged to experience. What exists between us runs deeper than I think either of us will ever truly be able to understand in this lifetime.

I’m at peace, and it's not just because I've met HIM. I'm at peace because what we just shared is something that no matter whom we are with, we will always have.

These past few months you and I discovered things about ourselves; things we were only able to understand because of each other. And that is something so powerful and beautiful, that no one will ever be able to take away.

I don't view our conversation as a conclusion, but as a pivotal moment. One where time stood still and nothing else existed except what we share.

There is nothing to be sad about, nothing at all to mourn the loss of... Although what we had together was deeply moving and passionate, what we will have moving forward will be life-altering.

It’s my belief that we cannot get everything we truly need from just one person. And even though I cannot pinpoint what ‘it’ is we give each other, I have no intentions of letting our incredible connection and deep fundamental understanding of one another vanish.

No longer confined to this wrinkle, I am excited about where our new path will lead.

Come with me my dear friend; let us embark on this journey they call life. Let us be still in this beautiful moment with the knowledge that when we move beyond the confinement of our wrinkle, we will discover it can unfold into our lifeline.

The Dark Side

Helmut Newton 1973

June 8, 2010

I have never really wanted children. I don’t like most children; or rather I don’t like how most adults parent their children. I have never really wanted to get married. What marriage stands for today a far cry from the ideals people seem to desire when they embark upon it.

What I do want is someone who is my equal. I want a man who will push me to be the best I can and who will let me push them back. I want a partner in crime. I don’t have the same ideals that other people do. I am not blind to the fact that passions fade, that this man may not want to bed only me for the rest of his life. I am also quite aware that I may not want to sleep with just him.

I was in love once, but not really. It would be more accurate to say that I wanted to be in love; I wanted a boyfriend. At the time I genuinely believed I was in love and thought I would spend the rest of my life with him, marry him and have a child with him. Hindsight is a delightful thing.

Right now I feel frustrated. I am angry. As unfortunate as this is going to sound it is true; women are master manipulators. If I wanted to I could make any man fall in love with me, just a game I used to play when I became bored.

It was the same thing with the above noted love. I was in love with him because I wanted to be in love and he was in love with me because I wanted him to be.

Only one man has ever really been in love with me, my true self. I was not in love with him. It was something else, something bigger than that.

We would lay in my bed, naked. I adored the way his skin felt next to mine; our arms gently resting next to one another. The way he looked at me. He knew everything about me, about Chloe too. He didn’t care, not for one second. He would kiss me so softly and slowly and tell me he loved me. I would run my fingers through his long hair and rest my head on his naked chest. I would trace the outline of his tattoos with the tip of my finger.   

We would talk and pleasure each other for hours. My bed, his bed, the park; it did not matter where we were. It was like no feeling I have ever had with someone. I felt like we had the oldest souls and from the moment we met we understood everything about the other.

Why am I going on about this? Because it’s gone, he’s gone. Its over before it even really started. It is for the best. I do not think he was in love with me, even though he told me countless times he was. In truth it was something beyond love and neither of us could fully describe it; the irony of which is painful as we are both writers.

I am not worried about finding someone who will love me, that is an easy feat. But rather, I am terrified that no man can ever understand me the way he did. The way he did with out me having to say a single word. 

This feeling is crippling. I am numbing the pain with mindless 'fucks' and nothing seems to work. I don't want him back, I just want that feeling. That beautiful feeling of being understood. That nonjudgmental, unsympathetic understanding we had of each other. 

As I write this hot tears are streaming down my cold cheeks. I just want to be understood.  

Double or Nothing

@AlineAlagem

May 10, 2010

Rules are there to protect you; we create rules so that we don’t get hurt. My rules are simple; no man comes home with me and don’t fall in love. Little did I know but a certain magazine editor was about to take me on; and all bets were going to be off. 

He stood leaning against the bench, his jeans dark and fitted, his grey shirt loose. The way his hair was pushed back but small pieces still fell forward was incredibly sexy. The Editor had this look on his face as I walked towards him; it was like nothing else. He kissed me softly murmuring, “wow”.

We waked down the street his arm around my shoulder for the world to see. “Fuck them,” he said, “Fuck all of you… This girl is mine and I want everyone to know.”

I fumbled with the key as he slid his hands up my shirt; his hands were cool on my warm flesh. He grabbed my breasts as I managed to open the door and guide us inside. He kissed me and I loved feeling him getting thick through his jeans. We stood in the doorway unable to move, kissing slowly. His tongue parting my lips, my teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

He held my chin in both his hands, pulling away to look me over. His smile blew my mind and I could feel myself getting incredibly wet. I was aching to have his hands all over me; have him slide inside me and make me moan. I was about to break every rule I had and I didn’t care.

Just like The Editor said, “Fuck them all”.