.
I don’t know, Paula, but to tell you the truth, the answer is one I’ve already told.
Sometimes I think I fall too hard. Other times I think I don’t fall hard enough. Most of the time I think I fall too often and far too fast. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I long to be embraced and accepted and yet I do everything I can to ensure it never happens. It’s called torment and it tells my tales. It’s many times broken and few times mended. It’s easily cracked, easily crazed, easily excited but seemingly impossible to penetrate for anything longer than a love lingering more than a few months. And when it finally flees, it flicks and flames and it leaves a bright red gash.
In the past year and a half, I’ve written of four free falls. It might as well be four score. Whatever it is, it’s more than one and it’s too many. In fact, the one that I have found is already too many and yet not enough. I’d rather love deeply than often and fleetingly, but I don’t know how. I know little about compromise or how not to complain. I know little of keeping or listening to women because I don’t speak woman or understand their wiley womeny ways. They speak a language and with a tongue I don’t understand, one I wish I could hear and one I wish I could suck.
Instead, I don’t do commitments other than commitments to cruise and commitments to crush. I’m quick to judgment and quick to cut off. I’m quick to find any mistake or reason to walk. Walking is easy. Staying is hard. It means risk and maybe reward. It means more to me than I wish it did, because by all things bright, by all the stars above or the one deep within you, I tear tears from wrecked and reddened, nearly unredeemable, swollen, aging brown eyes…
hoping with hopelessness that someday, some way I will love a woman for the rest of my days and the remainder of my lifetime; that this will be my last love and it will linger much longer than my week long lust.
So, to answer your question, Paula, to put you at ease, I have no answer other than the one I’ve already given…I don’t know.
Broke'n China 
Ah, Peter. You seem a man of passion. it reminds me of a comedy titled “City Slickers.” Three friends that go on a western vacation to take part in a cattle drive. The whole time they share their concerns about their relationships with their wives or girl friends. The cattle drive boss is a tough and hardened cowboy who never had a wife. He shares his story when one of the friends asked why he never married. He said once he saw the most beautiful girl in the world to him from a distance. But, turned away. When asked why he didn’t go and introduce himself. He replied: “I didn’t want to ruin it.” From a distance I believe he protected himself from disappointment if she turned out to be other than his fantasy. He had foibles and to him, she must have them too. That reality he did not want to chance. To be hurt.
Passion has its place. But, love is a commitment. Not a feeling. Love says: Don’t worry, no matter what, I’m not going anywhere. Love means loving someone when they are unlovable. – G.K. Chesterton
Good luck my friend. You’ll know love when the object of it is all consuming.
-Alan
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Alan, as always you impress. I’m familiar with both City Slickers and the notion that love is not a feeling. I’m with you that it is an action and a commitment. What I hadn’t heard however was the incredible quote by Chesterton! Blows me away! and “Love says: Don’t worry, no matter what, I’m not going anywhere.” That is exactly what I wanted to see as a child. Powerful quotes, Alan. Thank you for sharing them.
When it comes to Curly’s not wanting to ruin it, I relate. Many times I’ve done the same thing. Some time ago, in a piece I haven’t posted, I wrote about my fault finding. Strangely, since then, I’ve been on a journey of growing fond of imperfections to the point that an old student observed of me “You love things that aren’t perfect” (see How Vicki Found Her Voice). One day, I look forward to including myself. What you posted may help get me there. Thank you, Alan.
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The act of expressing your feelings/emotions on the page can have profound effects–writing is the cure.
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Does this mean you’re back to blogging? 😉
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Your are welcome Peter. Chesterton was an English essayist/philosopher who lived in the late 1800’s and died in 1935. Also a great debater. If interested, you can find more info about him at http://www.chesterton.org
By the way Chesterton was also known as the Apostle of common sense; in reading his works I know inspired me to the write the quote ending in “I’m not going anywhere.”
take care peter,
-Alan
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Perfect, Alan. You answered my next question and thank you for saying what I needed to hear.
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Ahhh. But liken us to beer. One day one will bubble down.
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Ho intenzione di prendere le parole alla lettera e non per la poetica. ‘Io non parlo delle donne’, che si sta davvero dicendo ‘Io non rispettano le donne’ e se questo è il caso, sarà sempre deluderli e mai in grado di stare con una donna. Tuttavia avete voglia di fino le tue parole – che, nella mia mente è quello che stai dicendo.
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Thank for the note. Assuming Google Translate is accurate and I’m understanding you correctly, perhaps a better rendering of the title and message would be “I don’t understand (some) women.” Yes?
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