I'm sitting in an empty building with sketches of designs and samples of tile scattered around a makeshift table of saw horses and plywood. It's like reliving the past, something I'd never want to do again, but the taste of starting this business anew mimics the past.
The past is something that never is too far away. It catches up to us easily and trying to outrun it never seems to give us the peace we seek from its influence. So do we stare into the face of that abyss and hope nothing stares back? I'm unsure.
I do know that possibility is very real now. I feel more centered, less frozen. While that's a good thing, when the thaw goes deeper, it unseats hidden emotions, fears, longings and goals. Does anyone ever get to the point where they know themselves so utterly, that they can take each part, each emotion, each sentiment and embrace it? Possibly. Or maybe they're just fooling themselves into thinking they have, to gain confidence. In any case, while I can put on the face, fight the fight, rule the day, I know that deep down inside me there is a myriad of experiences and hurt that another could not fathom.
There's the rub. Finding someone who cares enough to explore all that. Not going to happen in this lifetime, I'm thinking. For the most part, people are pretty much interested in what affects them. Myself included. And that's fine, it makes us who we are. But looking around this empty building I see yet another attempt to build a life, make a mark, see a future.
That's what you do, after all, if you want to keep on living life to its fullest. It is never static, always dynamic, and so should I be. I cannot let the lack of another in my life who even cares to look below the obvious to sway me in any way. Those who leave doors open in case they want to walk away and through them later are not unusual or unique or even interesting. They are the norm, not the exception. They call it something else, but the motive beneath is exactly that.
If I am honest with myself, I can say that I see and understand far more than I let on. I see what I want, I see what others want and when the two do not mesh, I simply let it be. It is time for me to let it all go, and whatever happens, happens. Though my prediction is that what will happen is what I make happen.
There is a saying I saw in a book shop once, "If you want to predict the future, you start by creating it..." So today I create. A future that gives meaning to a life of wandering and engaging only to feel the sting and retreating. A future that brings satisfaction to myself and if another happens to find that satisfying, all the better.
If not? C'est la vie. I'm still here. Still walking on this journey.
For years, he was the reason I stepped out of the construct of expectations placed on me by my parents. In the old tiger communities, the children were groomed to fulfill the roles vital to keeping our kind safe, protected and healthy.
Damien was a sibling yet, while we had physical similarities, we were as different as day and night. He was born to be rogue. He used to call the rules of tiger society 'oppression of the old'. The hours we spent in arguments over that alone I would give my eye teeth to have back.
When we lost him, when I knew my phone would no longer ring and I would never hear that purring, deep voice on the other end starting the conversation with a jab, I recounted every point he made; revisited every fact that invalidated our way of life.
I still disagree with most of what he stood for, but I loved him. His death was not unexpected, for he seemed to live with a carelessness that pointed the way to death. As if he wanted to end it but he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory and passion.
He was gone from this existence before Isabella. He would have loved her, and I foolishly believe that maybe, of all of us, Isabella could have reached in and touched Damien in a way that had not been managed.
My defense of Damien extended through the years. I rescued him, bailed him out, put myself between him and the ire of my parents, to the bitter end. It was a belief I held then that if you loved someone enough, stood by them through thick and thin, that it would change the pattern, heal whatever wounds they nursed, make them a better person.
It didn't.
I no longer cling to that belief. We are what we are. Loving someone does not change them unless they wish to be changed. Then it can be that extra boost that strengthens their resolve. First and foremost, it has to be their choice to erase the old tapes and begin anew.
Today I feel edgy. The control is no less, the power no more frightening, just very ....present. The hunt will do what is intended, allow the beast to run free, to tear into prey and feed, to renew the connection of the two parts that make us lycan.
Damn good thing. Otherwise the damage would be more than impressive.
He has this gift of bringing people together who wouldn't normally give one another a second glance. The center pin in a kaleidoscope of beings. I doubt he sees it that way, but it is that way nonetheless.
He has charisma, charm, intelligence, humor, a capacity for understanding and an unsettling habit of seeing to the heart of most matters. Most. Yet, he did not see that I was crazy about him.
I've never been a woman to fawn over a man. I have had lovers, passion, even love. But I never felt this....desire to ensure he's happy. I think I would rather him be happy than anything. It seems wrong, somehow, that a man like him should ever suffer an unhappy moment.
He is unselfish and giving; often worrying more over others than himself. He recognizes strength in others, respects it, but it never changes who he is at his core. He has this...method...of dealing with things he dislikes. It is very effective. Maybe he should patent it. Covey did, he has his method. The Geller Method could work in a major way.
He calls me out when he sees me hiding behind the mask of aloof. He says he tolerates the Ice Queen that I can be...he never said why, exactly, but I know why. He knows that's not everything I am. It is one small part fashioned to protect me from the very real tumult of life.
As I write this, that silly smile will not leave me. My heart races, my stomach flutters and I can't wait to see him again. He can walk into a room and it changes for the better, every single time.
Even writing this, I pause, hesitate and feel my palms go sweaty. Even putting it down in this journal that no one will read, save me, it's like putting the most intimate, precious part of me here. Scary.
I have a surprise for him for our next date. And the one after that, and the one after that.
For all the wrong I may have done in this life, I did something right for once. I didn't kill him; and I told him how I felt.
I feel contemplative today. Not that I'm not always in a state of having thoughts and ideas, but today it's different.
Kaikou and I moved into Paix completely. I cleaned Caspian's apartment from stem to stern last night, it's gleaming. I think it'll make him smile, at least I hope so. He was so good to us. Piling in with us to sleep, cooking, letting us have run of the place. I should send him flowers. Maybe I will.
Haven't seen Alex in a while. I miss him. But I know he needs his space as much as I do.
The Spa is hopping, I checked on it earlier and Valen was keeping things running smooth. He's amazing like that.
My mother left for California while we were in transition, I expect her back sometime this summer. She said she was not heading back to the UK until autumn. Lucky me.
I've been thinking about people who come and go in your life, and leave such a lasting impression. They resonate with you the rest of your life, though they may have only been in it for a few short months. Geller has disappeared, not sure where he went, as have many others. Yet, life goes on in that same maddening way no matter what's happening in your own personal world.
I think today will be a lazy day. Champagne, a stroll in a park, a short sail into the harbor, or a swim in the new pool. Or hell, all of the above.
The plane is taking off again. A quick trip to New York City. It seems a route I've been taking a lot lately. It sort of mirrors my life. Going back and forth down the same trails and paths. The flight attendant is bothersome with her constant attention. It's a private jet, can she not figure out I can let her know if I need something without that being checked constantly? I am far too irritable, it is not a good state of mind.
I am so fucking angry at him for leaving me. Then I realize he didn't. He was taken and it was my fault. I really regret the day I met him in that bathroom. Nothing since then has been the same. I used to know beyond a shadow of a doubt who I was, and what I was meant to be. Then Charles Geller decided he needed to take a piss, and my world shifted on its axis. Now he could be dead, and I never had the chance to tell him anything at all about how I felt after our last conversation. Or to even punch him for not fighting back.
When he was with me, he was always just a little too willing to let me go. Saying he wanted me happy more than he wanted me at his side. What the bloody bollocks is that all about? Why didn't he stand up and say he wanted me with him? I never bloody understood that about him. It's not that I want possessive, I detest possessive, but I would like to know if someone cared enough to just say they wanted me to be with them. I think every female who is honest with herself wants the man she's with to be definitively solid on wanting her with him.
I need to calm down, I have to continue the search. I have not slept since I found out he has not been seen or heard from in nearly seven weeks. Why had it taken his family so many weeks to realize? I believe they thought he was with me, I thought he was with them, and when we realized neither of us knew, realization came crashing down. What has been done to him in all these weeks?
This is when it hurts the most. When the anger is no longer strong enough to mask the truth beneath. I've never really hurt like this before. Before it was a matter of not working out, of realizing the other person was absolutely crazy, or just drifting apart in a natural way without drama or extreme pain. This....is because of a misunderstanding. Because of my pride. I don't know that I will ever get back that part of myself which is lost. Funny thing is, I lost it the moment he walked away.
Nothing has ever sliced this deep.
I just want him alive. I want him unharmed. But a person doesn't always get what they want. If I were a praying kind of woman, that's what I would be doing. But I'm not, and it's hypocritical to start now.
Just be alive, Charles Geller. Once I know that, then I can move on with my life.
Funny how a few days can change everything. Nix that. Funny how knowing someone loves you so much, they'll do anything to have you, changes everything. Whether that happens in a few days or a few weeks, or a few months, doesn't matter, as long as it happens, your life will never be the same.
Charles Geller loves me. Which is convenient, since I love him more than anything. More than pride, more than worry, more than complications. More than anything or anyone.
He wanted cigarettes, a lighter and a chocolate milkshake. I will admit that I hoped someday, we could make this work again. That we could somehow step past all the mistakes and fears and try again. I didn't realize that we both needed to do it so badly, that even being near one another brought it too close to the surface to ignore.
Resisting was never wanted, the desire is too strong to consider resisting. I was focused on how to survive knowing we missed our chance. But while focusing on that I was also clearing obstacles in the path that might hinder the possibility. I was ready to do whatever it took just for a possibility of having that chance. Once again, Charles Geller has surpassed any expectation. And then some.
He says I am not an easy woman to love. But love me he does. He's an easy man to love. Now. Before I was never sure if he was open to it, he seemed so careful about what he did and said. Now I know that was his own fears at work, waiting for me to take that step and set us free.
Intimacy is new for me. It is not sex, though intimacy involves sex, it alone does not guarantee you will experience it. It is not having a meal together, though that too can be intimate if done right. It is that indefinable sharing that can happen with the simplest of acts. Music and milkshakes, having your hair washed and brushed, holding one another all night and when you stir from sleep to feel their arms around you, you hear yourself sigh and drift back into dreams, knowing they'll be there when you awaken. Waiting, just for you. Sharing bad breath, bad hair days and cloudy moments.
I suspect it is new for him as well. But we both want it so badly, the moment we see one another, touching, in some way, is required. Like a physical craving that nothing else will satisfy. It has put me in a state of awe. He carries me up the stairs, runs my bath, babies me, adores me, touches me, feeds me, and I let him. Because each small thing he does for me, we grow closer. More in tune. He has kissed every inch of me, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I have touched every part of him, my fingertips have intimate knowledge of his entire body. That is a heady beginning to an intimacy that forges two people inextricably together.
I can be obtuse. I am intelligent and can be very loving, but sometimes I sit in a seat beside him instead of taking advantage of a good situation to sit in his lap. He reminds me by simply pulling me to his lap.
But oh how he is plunging forth. He is firm on this, it shows in his eyes. Even the way he holds me is the way a man holds a woman when he doesn't want to waste one moment doing anything else. I also suspect he spent the last day before we flew out, taking care of some things. I know that he handled them firmly, but gracefully. That's how Geller is...always.
My new resolution, after ensuring everyone around me knows that this man is my world, is to do more things for him. To adore him, as he adores me. To bring him coffee, make him lunch, rub his back, hold his hand, stroke his hair.
So this is love. In all its sappy, sweet, ridiculous, silly, cantwaittobewithyouagain, glory.
I think I'm going to like being in love. Which is good, since I'm pretty sure this one is the lifetime deal.
Once you figure out exactly what you want in life...you'd think that would be the answer to all questions.
Wrong.
It just opens up a whole new set of questions. It's obvious we cannot stay apart. We tried sleeping apart and it simply doesn't work. He ended up climbing into my window, tumbling to the floor, with me standing over him. Good thing, because I was ready to head that way and climb that trellis again!
That night we realized we could no longer live apart. That night Geller and I became something more; we became mates. He's the one thing I cannot live without. Unquestionably.
So, I'm cooking him dinner tonight. Geller spends all of his time when we're together babying me, cooking for me, loving me. It's time I did the same for him. I will baby him, cook for him, and we'll come up with a solution to at least one of the questions. Where do we live?
I need to make contact with Mikhail to respond to his request for a meeting. I must speak with Evening, Avery and Santana, but the trio of gals are hard to pin down. Will is another issue that will be handled soon. Caspian seems to have his own affairs to attend.
The day is beautiful. Gloriously bright, there seems to be a buzz of energy humming in the air. It started the moment I awakened and felt his mouth against my neck. Life is good. Life is very very good. Now to step forward and take it by the tail.
