Early in my writing career, I had a very brilliant mentor – a lovely Australian man around 70 years old back then. When he introduced me to people, he would say “Meet Gretchen, she’s hard and fast.”
Some people would give me dirty looks when he said this, others would stare at me blankly with a crooked nod. But he was right, I am hard and fast. Life it too short to waste time.
My first husband and I married after ten weeks and it lasted ten years. The only reason it didn’t work was fate. It took me about three years of torturing myself to get that.
Then there was the time I married a stranger for three weeks, just because I could. I don’t really count that as anything though – other than unnecessary stress. Maybe a few decent poems came from it.
I’ve had a swirl of love affairs since, similar to matches. Quick to strike and fast to blow out. There’s a certain chemistry to love, I believe. You can’t force it, you can’t make anyone feel it for you and if it isn’t instant on both sides, in my opinion – it’s just a matter of time.
I fell in love with the Italian luthier at first sight. Hands down. And all of the others just fell to the side. I spent this morning deleting and blocking numbers in my phone. There’s only one person I want to communicate with.
I knew in my bones, since I was a little girl, my life would be spent with someone; and that when we met, it would take off like a shot. I also knew I wasn’t going to end up with an American man. While these beliefs may have knocked me around a bit with the wrong people – I finally found the right one.
Sacred, in my life, tends to involve secrets. So I probably won’t talk too much about him in these parts. But put short, he builds double basses and sends me Chopin songs. I’m not sure what I could possibly follow that up with…
The way he speaks to me… the way he touches me… everything about him ignites an entirely new existence. About five minutes ago, as I’m sipping Rose at 4am in Tahiti, perched above the Pacific ocean – he sent me an Italian waltz. And wearing his shirt, inside the tropical air, I walked outside to my private deck and spun counterclockwise to the thought of what we are becoming together.
If it wasn’t physically in front of me, I’d never believe that it’s happening.
I try. To be
Wants to make
Worth. Can you
Ever tell me
How I am supposed
To be. No one knows
About us. I smile
When I want to scream;
I nod. And everyone
Else is paying
Taxes and eating
Meat. I am nothing
Outside of fitting
In. I only want
To be. Out. Be-
Cause… mine is
Never to be
when he touched me. i awoke. and my eyes
discovered ways to widen and expand.
it was like i suddenly became more
stretched. i could be. pulled in more
directions. a north south east west
way of expressing how i reach
for him. cut arms. strong thighs. his body
wraps me in limbs and whispers. that i
should never doubt; my only truth.
the one way anyone. broke. through…
i opened. to him. wide arms, spread
legs moving forward in a direction
to be in contact with what i only believed.
and while he whispered, we swore
that nothing would ever split between
us again. he… and i… always. promised.
FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.