I think I mentioned, in these Deringer Files somewhere. that I don't speak with any women from my past - and the past could include yesterday, for some reason, that is just the way things turn out. A lot of that has to do with me - but getting into that conversation would drag on for ever and we would get nowhere... so... it is pointless to try to figure the reasons out. however, this leaves me in the dark about something I think of quite often - what do the women of my past think of me? There are many women that I left in better shape than when I found them, and equally as many that ended up in worse shape - but I have made it a rule and have always tried to leave them... shall we say... improved... I can't think of any other way to put it.
So because I don't speak to them and I am not out looking for any of them - I have no idea what they think of me now that we have nothing to do with eachother - but I always want to know - the good and the bad... so that I may too improve myself.
The following was written by the woman with whom I had my last "quasi-relationship" with. She posted it on the "Havana Club" Blog a few weeks into the relationship - I can't remember exactly when but I saved a copy of it before I shut that blog down and opened the Deringer Files here. The last time I spoke to her she wasn't too happy - and as you know the last time I saw her - I didn't speak to her... so we don't know how she feels now - but we know that she drops by to the Deringer Files from time to time... and we know how she felt then... I do miss her by the way - even though she made me nuts at times... she was lots of fun... and... nights are not the same without her.
He's laying there with his eye closed - he doesn't really sleep, he just lays there thinking a million thoughts all at once - making himself crazy trying to solve the problems of the world and sorting out poems for lovers who's names he says he can't remember and trying to hold back the demons of his childhood... and some where in the darkness of his mind is he thinking of a poem for me or is he trying to find his fathers voice...?
He keeps boxes of poetry that he has been writing since he was fourteen - more than half of them are still works in progress... you haven't read the really good stuff yet... his poetry makes me cry... wishing they had been written for me... but I am also praying that I don't end up just words in a note book of unfinished poems - whispers that linger... and kisses that ended too soon.
He's laying there and I can't help but think just how lazy this man really is - let me tell you - he said he wants to write a book on lounging or make a documentary on the art of taking it easy... maybe it's just me... and I have to constantly keep moving, but, he does help me to relax... I just wish I understood how he gets things done. For example - yesterday he turned in a brochure to a client - actually, he turned in five designed brochures laid out with copy for them to choose from, but he has not even mentioned that he had a client or that he was working on a project, so when did he have the time to put them all together since I have been taking up most of his time - hmm... Another great mystery about his man who claims to have nothing is that he can make money materialize from his pockets where there was previously none - that is a trick I would like to learn. Now, about his claims as to not owning anything - to be thirty nine years old and not to have accumulated anything? he has a small closet in his room that is filled with boxes and his clothing is well organized (according to color) and his T-shirts and sweaters nicely folded on the top shelf - I wish I could take a picture for you - but this is all that the man says is his. I personally do not buy this story, and if you new him personally you wouldn't either - there is just something in the way he carries himself and the way he talks and acts that lead me to believe that he is not as poor as he pretends to be... and he has many secrets. Sometimes he gets this grin on his face that is a give away that he is hiding something. It is a grin of a man that is very sure of himself. It is an evil grin - he knows something that the rest of the world doesn't know and he's not going to share it with any one... what could it be?
I have heard him say some very cruel things - he harbors many evil thoughts in him but he is a very kind man and he is very loyal and trustworthy to those he has chosen to give his loyalty and trust to - the rest of us are little people - outsiders, we are the poor unfortunate unenlightened slaves that he says we are and we deserve what we get - those are his words - you should also know that this man who wants to save the world is not politically correct - oh no.... he just figured out what I am doing... he says he is not politically correct because he is not a communist and it is a communist idea to make the peons feel equal and important...? plus he says it makes people sound stupid and has turned this country into a bunch of wimps.
The sun is up and I must get going... I will think of him all day... those lips... he is a great kisser... he knows just how much pressure to apply and how to tease me with his tongue and he knows how to touch me and how to hold me to make me feel wanted and desired and beautiful... and he knows how to caress my face and brush my hair to the side... he knows what to do and say to make me submit to him and he just melts me when he looks at me and doesn't say a word... he just looks at me with desire... and he also makes me lazy... but I must be going. I have to work for a living and can't just pull money out of thin air as he does...
He'll read this after I leave but he does not think I will post this... hee-hee...
Well... all I have to do is press publish, baby...
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