Once upon a time, in reality....

The Sixth Commandment

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 19:38:05 GMT

Thou shalt not commit adultery. What does this mean?
We should fear and love God so that we do not….
Fear, that’s funny
Cause I fear that God has put you in my life to stay
Not that I’m mad, I can’t image not talking to you
Which scares me
A man who could raise me up to be second class mistress status
Never first because that would mean some self-sacrifice
And selfishness is what it gets down to
Selfishness-the thing that makes it not only a he and me
But a he me and you, a three way we
A love triangle that only I’m aware of
Yes I said it, love, I love you
I’m not ashamed of it because the truth keeps me being untrue
To him, the one who has dedicated his life to me
Not knowing that there is another who holds another key
To my heart
Knowing that you may never say exactly how you feel
Breaks me down, makes me kneel
On the floor praying to God why, why put me in the place where I love
Two men, totally different
See you may be what I wanted but he’s what I need
The one to support, pick me up, show me affection
The direction he leads me is toward the altar of validation and perfection
Unlike you putting me into the closet, like you, holding me with the other skeletons
Always your dirty little secret, and you mine
And yet with you, I feel sublimely
Light
Airy, comforted, wanted, desired-but in a different way
You tell me when I’m trying hard to resist but don’t you think you act the same
Going from lustful to strangely loving, stroking my cheek
Looking at me, knowing that I know what you want to say but never speak
I’m not stupid
Sprung on each other, I’m not sure if this will ever end or that I want it to
I want to be faithful, not be with you
But like Heather Headley, In My Mind, a part of me will always belong to you
And if you don’t think the possession is mutual than you need to tell yourself the truth
You are mine too
So maybe next time I should not try as hard to resist or repress
But in the mean time you need to confess
Tell me what the hell is my purpose in your life, why do you want me
A mistress, I may have to consign myself to be but remember I hold stock
Part owner of you, you may never leave me completely
But as much as you seek me out know that you also may never rid yourself of me

Part I of the story: Between Heaven and Hell

Wed, 15 Nov 2006 17:24:45 GMT

Well, I haven't looked at this story in a minute. It still needs an ending which I'll add later but here is the story so far. No need to mention that it needs work but you be the judge of its merit.

------------------------------------------------------

“Between Heaven and Hell”

Sometimes hell can be more fulfilling than heaven.

A conclusion like this is a bit difficult for a woman raised Christian for whom religion was never pressed upon but always important and which became one of the various things which make up her individual story. “Then again, I am a Lutheran—protestant. Humph! Unlike Catholics, we grow up knowing perfection isn’t possible, sin an everyday occurrence. What did Luther say? If you sin, sin boldly….geez, what am I doing?” But I knew that answer. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in marriage and monogamy and I love my fiancé Dean with all my heart; I would never do anything to hurt him. But I was young and I hadn’t finished living out my crazies—besides, it was only sex. “A sin nevertheless. Might as well since I’ve already sinned in thought. Gratification is the best part of the sin.” Well, maybe I should back up to the beginning.

I never intended to become the mistress of Dr. Paul Bonner.

He had been an attractive, intelligent man. A historian, he was versed in the capabilities and temptations, and destructiveness of man. Seemingly quiet and pensive, he would command the attentions of his students while privately providing them with humor at his pretentious bow-tie. Yes, he was an academic to the core and I loved it. Well, that and the strikingly sharp sarcastic tongue he would lash at will. I never had a class with him but I knew him as a well-respected historian, Catholic, and expert in Catholic relics and the church’s role in the modern age. He was involved deeply within his community and church, working as a consult on church history to the priests and giving free lectures at Immaculate Conception, his congregation. I also knew him remotely yet intimately at some levels as the best friend of one his colleagues. Dr. Matt Foster and Paul were pretty good friends since both had joined the Crestview faculty at the same time and he had been one of my own mentors. He also happened to have begun a relationship with his current girlfriend, my best friend, while she was still a student. She made me privy to that little tidbit of gossip--the forbidden relationship a secret as sacred as the immaculate conception. Like Mary, I heard the word and pondered all these things in my heart. Discretion is the better part of valor, you know.

During my days at Crestview, I thought he was the sexiest thing alive but I kept my distance. It wasn’t until much later that I learned from Stevie that his marriage, one which recently conceived a baby, had been on a slow ride to nothingness. Recently graduated, I hung around Memphis in the old ‘stomping grounds’ figuring out my next move in life. Walks were my thing; I’d head out in the evening and walk for hours. Then everything changed for me. Paul lived not far from Crestview and walking past his house, I spotted him. The salt and pepper hair, glasses covering beautiful eyes, and a complete demeanor that screamed, “Help! I’m trapped in a marriage that is eating me alive.” For a moment, the entire world moved in slow motion as I strolled. Waving as he watered the lawn, I saw him give me the eye. You know the one-the look where a man undresses you with his eyes. Curiously cocking my head to the side as I looked at him, he glanced up and realized that he’d been caught. I witnessed a sin, his sin, and his eyes did not plead penitence. Covetousness. And you know what, it was mutual.

I became consumed.

A month later, Paul lectured at Immaculate Conception on the role of relics and indulgences on the reality of sin in the lives of Europeans in the 16th and 17th centuries. I could have carried less about it but Stevie and I went in the hopes that I would talk to him afterward. And by talk I don’t mean a bunch of bullshit chit chat. It was time for some pillow talk to make sure he looked at sin in a slightly different light.

“Hey you!”
“Hey, how’s it goin’ Jackie?”
“Pretty good. Great lecture. What are your exact thoughts on sin anyway, the ones besides trying to inspire people to think on their own, blah blah?”
“Well, uh, sin is an abomination. According to Scripture and the Holy Fathers, it is the cause for complete separation from grace and the presence of God…”
“True, but doesn’t it serve a purpose? For example, it’s the complete opposite of righteousness. We would not know righteousness, goodness, or even grace without it. For every action is an equal and opposite reaction, right?”
“True but if there were to no first sin, we would know all these things which are “good” within our relationship with God without the presence of sin.”
“Alright ….well, which is more sinful—sins of omission or sins of commission?”
“Both are equally evil, Jay.”
“But don’t the Holy Fathers designate some sins more evil or worse than others.”
“Such a Lutheran.”
“Such a Catholic.” Neither of us could help laughing at that. “Well then, breaking which of the Commandment sins causes you to break all?”
“We are taught that breaking the 1st Commandment causes the violation of all. Putting anyone or anything above God causes sin against the other nine.”
“But isn’t that simplistic? For a long time, I thought the same. But why put anything above the Almighty? Why steal? Why kill? Coveting causes one to violate all the commandments…”
“Coveting?”
“Yes. Men see something they want that isn’t theirs, they covet and they steal. Women and men covet other men and women and thus find themselves in adultery. Coveting and desirous thoughts have caused acts that shame mothers and fathers moving the coveter to oaths and swears and all kinds of indecent acts. Covetousness can overcome willpower to displace God as the true ruler of the heart, mind, and spirit. The greatest commandment to keep, my friend, is ‘do not covet.’”
“Interesting thought, Jay,” Paul muttered as his licked his lips. I couldn’t help but stare and was caught in a lecherous gaze that moved from his lips to his crouch.
“Just food for thought. See you around, Doc.”

I moved painfully slow over the next month. I wanted him to know that without a shadow of a doubt, I wanted him, and, more importantly, he wanted me. Patience is a virtue that I was not blessed with and I found that soon I was foaming at the mouth at the thought of him. The time had come. “God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” It was do or die. Time for the offering of the First Fruits, if you know what I mean. I just hoped that my sacrifice would be accepted by him.

I arrived at Immaculate Conception early Friday morning. Thank God for my father. He tried to raise me Baptist but having been in Catholic school too long, gave me the rosary as well as my “foot-washin.” Covering my head, I crossed myself and bowed before entering the pew. Now the wait was to come. Ha! What a day it is to pray for a man to come in so that you may continue your plan to ultimately commit a sin with him. Paul came just like a good little Catholic would and entered a confessional. Before one of the priests could return, I slipped into the other side. Keeping my head bowed, I knew he could not resist seeing who it was that mistook him to be a padre. When I was sure he saw me, I began my master plan….

“Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been 10 years since my last confession.”
“Uh. Ahem.Well, my child what have you done?”
“It is not what I have done quite yet but what I feel. I have coveted another woman’s husband.”
“Please go on…..”
“I know him. He’s a professor at Crestview but I want very much to make love to him. Everyday, I imagine it and every night, I dream of it knowing in my heart it is wrong. He has a wife, children—and I have a fiancé whom I love very much. But it is no matter to me. I desire his touch. But since I have already committed the sin in my heart, I think that I might as well turn the sin of omission into that of commission. I need gratification. Don’t you agree, father?
“-------- I…..hmm…..who is this man you desire?”
“You know who you are and what your name is. Names need not be uttered. The games between us need to end. When we were children, we acted like children and thought like children. Now is the time to put all childish things to an end, Professor.”
“------“
“Speechless. Yes I know. I’m not the first for you but I will be the last. I have no desire to oust your wife and take her place. I have a husband of sorts and no desire for another. But I want to have a little fun. I want to feel you, breath you, touch you, connect with you in a different way. I can promise you ultimate satisfaction.
“-----“
“Cat still got your tongue, eh? Meet me at Jeanette’s in Germantown. You know the one. Small, intimate place with very few Crestview kids? Be there at 7:30pm. I don’t have to tell you what I’ll be wearing in order to recognize me; you already know who I am. If you aren’t there, I’ll get the hint. But if you come, there is no going back. We live in the place between heaven and hell wondering which way we’ll go at the end of our time here. Everyone wants to go to heaven, Paul. What most people don’t realize is that sometimes hell can be more fulfilling than heaven.”

Nervous knots in my stomach. Doubts. Lord, I’ve never done this before….but, it feels awfully good. What to wear? Must…calm…down. Music, yes, that’s what I need. Radio would be good. “…..Giiirrrrllll…..you’ll be a woman soon….” Neil Diamond, how appropriate.

I got into my car and prepared for the end of the world. I set the stage and now I had to see it through remaining calm the entire time. Paul would want to see a picture of stoic grace not a complete nervous wreck.

Also interesting.....

Tue, 14 Nov 2006 18:37:05 GMT

Your Power Color Is Magenta

At Your Highest:

You energize yourself and push others to suceed.

At Your Lowest:

You feel frustrated and totally overwhelmed.

In Love:

You are suprised by who you attract. You're a love magnet.

How You're Attractive:

Open and free spirited, people want to explore the world with you.

Your Eternal Question:

"What is my next source of inspiration?"

What's Your Power Color?

Who knew?

Tue, 14 Nov 2006 18:26:24 GMT

I find this most interesting because I'm a night person. Not to say, I don't enjoy the sunrise. But I get the most done in the evening and I enjoy the quiet reflection of night much more.

You Are Sunrise

You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary.
You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward.
Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts.
All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

What Time Of Day Are You?

When a woman's fed up.....

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 18:33:19 GMT

Dear Significant Other,

I’ve been feeling a whole heck of a lot lately and I’ve tried to express it in words but obviously that has lead to nothing but arguments. I’d rather discuss something with you although that generally doesn’t work because you just don’t want to talk to me about anything. Period. So reviewing that fact, I’ve come to the conclusion that I really just don’t care. I’ve sacrificed and worked and changed for you, the least you can do is listen to me and respond like the human being and man you are.

I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I was never more relieved than to see you act goofy and happy during Greek Week activities. And I was grateful to God when the first person I saw coming up those stairs to the probate was you looking back at me. I acted mad at you when you told me I couldn’t dance at the probate when we really started talking, but I was more hurt than anything. Why? Because I was already in love with you and you criticized me. You are the only person I think about all day and I pray for you at night. I think of you before making any decision and I try to call you to get your advice before I go too far. I hate being away from you and count the days until I can be back in your presence. I thank God everyday for the time I have had with you and pray that those days in your presence can continue until I am in the grave.

That being said, I do have a stank attitude. I’ll admit it as well as my mistakes. I am overly sensitive. I have been unappreciative of your love and commitment. I didn’t acknowledge the little things that you did that made me happy. And I’m sorry that you felt like you needed to change for me because you didn’t. I can be a short fuse. I can be crazy at times. I can be hard to excite—perhaps this is because so many times in the past, people have made promises that I’ve been excited about that didn’t come to fruition. That is in the past and it should come out on you but that is part of me. I am who I am just like you are who you are—we can’t change unless we want to change for ourselves. I’m sorry for my shortcomings and wrongs but I’ve apologized for it for forever. I can only change the future; I can’t go back and change the past.

Now after I have talked about you for forever on my trip to Chaco, I come back to---nothing. That’s right absolutely nothing. No excitement, no happiness, no romance, no nothing. The room was dark and a hot mess. After 9 days away—nothing. You were sleep?? Yes. You were. I don’t care what your intentions were—act like you’re sleep and surprise me—they didn’t come out that way. Part of me thinks you went to sleep just so that you wouldn’t hear me talk about the stankness of the apartment. Yeah, you straightened up; whatever. And you used my towel?! My towel. I hadn’t showered in 9 days, all I wanted was a shower and food and you made my nice towel all wet and nasty from your body funk. And then you wondered why I sobbed like a baby about it. You tried to make it up for me the next day but acted funky. Why? According to you, it was because it felt forced. You don’t need a special occasion to be romantic. Well, apparently, you need no occasion to be romantic, because you don’t want to do it at all. If you can’t do it naturally after I come back after a 9 day trip, I don’t know when you can do it.

I don’t want to bring this up again and I know you hate it when I bring up the past. But this has been just about my final straw. I’m still hurting, just like I know you hurt about my past actions. But you know, I think you are subconsciously trying to punish me for the past, which is working except for the fact that I’m about a foot and a half ready to walk out the door. And at this point I think you just might be ready for me to leave to. I’ve been doing everything I’m supposed to—I cook, I clean, I support you no matter what, I try to make you feel important to me (because you are) and loved, I make time for you—I do everything I can possibly do. And yes, you are having a shitty time right now but so am I and I’ve kept a lot of stuff from you since you don’t seem to pay attention when I talk and I just don’t want to stress you out about any more stuff.

But the fact of the matter is, that I’m really hurt right now—I’m hurting really badly. And actually, I’m starting to think that maybe I should go. Maybe you would be much happier. Because you don’t seem to be happy with me and you don’t seem to care whether I’m with you or not. You say, that because your life has been so bad lately, that you haven’t had time to do all the things you used to but the few things that you do to show your love and appreciation you mean with all your heart. Let me tell you, when you say few things, it’s really few. Actually the things you do are few and far between. I have to actually say to myself out loud “he really does love me, he’s just going through a hard time.” Those friends that usually love you to death and tell me all the time, he loves you so go work it out together—when I tell them about the stuff you say, do, or don’t do, they are now looking at me like, well, it might be good for y’all to split up.

I do try to protect you. I have let a lot of my past go and I have let you in more than any other human being on this planet, including my mother. I will support you wherever you go and whatever you do--whether you are a CEO, a teacher, a preacher, a garbage man, a fry boy at McDonalds, or a beggar. Why do you think I wake up when YOUR alarm goes off, and I encourage you to get up? Because whatever you have to get up for, it’s important to you which means it is important to ME! I know you have evolved to a place where you know what happiness is and you are looking for the placement God has set you in, but don’t take out your impatience on me. I love you because you are a man of God and I’m not trying to bring hell into YOUR home. But if I’m not worth trying to keep, please let me know. Cause for me, I pray to God everyday to get a little insight into what could be bothering you and how can I make it a little better.

I love you so much and I try to show it to you everyday, but somehow, someway, I’m still hurting really badly and it seems like you just don’t care or you’re glad that I’m hurting because you used to hurt the same way. Well, when I first expressed these opinions to you months ago, you told me that “ha, we’ve changed places how does it feel?” You seemed really happy that I
was hurting. And maybe you still are. But I’m here to say that I love you, I support you, and I want you to reach all your goals and fulfill all your potential—but I’m not going to be hurt and sad all the time. I spent a childhood like that and most of my first year of college—at least until I met you. These past few months have felt like my first year of college, miserable. And I don’t know what to do.

I’m writing you because it seems as though every time I try to talk about feelings, you close up. So this appeals to you because I can say how I feel and you don’t have to respond at all. I want to work things out but I’m tired of feeling depressed. I love you.

--Your rib

Remembering

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 15:49:16 GMT

I saw a guy that looks like you in the library in the early morning hours of today. Funny how he resembles you, huh? Looks kind of queer though. I finally found the courage to delete you from my phone. You're still my friend on facebook though we know how that goes. I thought about the so-called "good times," although looking back maybe they weren't so good. I had fun in the adrenaline of the moment--the lies and the sneaking around. The laughter and the sex. But when the sun went down and the truth set in, I found myself a whore. Not that I'm mad; quite the contrary, I thank you heartily. I learned so much about myself during that time. I learned that sex can be confused with love and that no matter what happens in those situations, someone always gets hurt. I found my adventurous side, my inner freak and what I truly enjoy. I found out that a lie, no matter how much you want it to be the truth, will always be a lie. And that when the orgasm is over, you will still feel no more self-worth than when you began. I found my worth and how much I'm willing to allow someone to hurt me if I truly believe that that person loves me and vice versa. But you know, love isn't supposed to hurt you. So thank you for those days in Forest Park and those nights by the fountain in the dark. Thanks for Erykah Badu, the Chinese food, and the late night calls. Thank you for the laughter and the tears because I needed them both. And thank you for giving me the experience to realize how valuable my fiance is to me; I needed to see the frog before the prince helped me off the ground. Maybe someday I'll delete you as my friend and I'll truly let you go. But for now, this is good enough. I wish you well; have a good life because I thoroughly plan to do the same.