I should get this out of the way: Nicole is moving to Texas.

—ooOoo—

The problem is reluctance. He can give you time and attention. He can give you pleasure and ego-boosts. He can even give you intimacy and sex, but strangely always only to a point, when he inevitably holds back. He won’t let himself go – not completely. You see it. You know you see it. He becomes fatally resistant. No final blow. No rebel yell. No coup de grâce.

It takes two people. A partner of some sort. You cannot find joy by dancing with yourself. There’s no app for it. Pussy can’t fix it. Pussy can’t fix everything; especially that impenetrable pain of loneliness. Even when it’s light, it’s dark for some. How do you know whether it’s need for attention or that impenetrable pain of loneliness? Does pleasure fix it.

—ooOoo—

Texas. Not sure where in Texas, but it’s a big state, and the target is July.

—ooOoo—

I seek a tantric experience. I want to experience my partner, and I want them to experience me. I want to see my partner, and I want them to know they’re being seen by me. I want to touch my partner, and I want them to know they’re being touched by me. I want to see the light within my partner, and I want them to see the light within me. A form of love.

I seek a dualistic experience. I want our bodies to experience all sorts of sexy carnal pleasures, while our souls are enriched by these moments of happiness. Simply enjoying our sexuality positively without complication. Drama is a fiction, bullshit people make up in their minds. Jealousy is an illusion, bullshit in thinking you possessed something in the first place.

—ooOoo—

I don’t need to take a bar exam to get a law license in Texas or Tennessee.

—ooOoo—

Like Sisyphus continuously rolling that massive stone up a hill, I like to continuously roll through a series of positions with my partner, looking for pleasurable ways to weave our bodies together. It should be fun, playful with lots of laughter. It should be willing, open with oodles of transparency. It should be sexy, adventurous with plenty of dirty talk.

Like a final act though, after engaging in a series of yummy climaxes culminating in orgasmic events without ejaculation, I generally like to finish the experience in a particular way, but I can’t seem to make that happen at certain times. There’s a reluctance, an emotional or spiritual stop. It feels like doing so might invoke some deep spiritual sadness.

—ooOoo—

She’s definitely made her decision. We’re now packing for her move.

—ooOoo—

Take away the mysticism, go back to the root, go back to the language, and break it down. A soulmate is not a deity or an absolute. You don’t get only one soulmate. Instead, you get multiple soulmates over the course of your lifetime: arising from some unique compatibility; arising from some shared history; and/or arising from some spiritual interrelatedness.

Soulmates are more transient than you think. Some soulmates are long-lasting, even enduring (we marry these), but as you know, nothing really lasts forever. Let us not forget about impermanence. Loss is hard, and losing a soulmate to the passage of time or changes in compatibility is particularly rough, even when politely described as: growing apart.

—ooOoo—

It’s not always about me. I’m fiercely happy she’s acting on her dreams.

—ooOoo—

Life expectancy in the United States is around 78 years, and we all know the last few years suck wishing you were dead anyways, so that basically gives my age group around 20 years until lights out. I know, tell me about how nana lived to be a hundred and people in your family live into their 90s, and I’ll remind you that they constantly hurt and shit their pants.

Twenty years does not seem like a long time left to live, although twenty years ago feels like a lifetime. In 2005, I was a named partner in a small law firm, working construction, labor, and employment cases, probably listening to Weezer on my way to the Sacto Builders Exchange. My boys were 8, 6, and 4, with St. Jude and brain tumors a few years behind us.

—ooOoo—

Me? I’m not sure, but I like the idea of making this a transformative year.

—ooOoo—

Twenty years gives me hope. I’m inspired knowing 20 years ago feels like a lifetime. During the past 20 years, I went from that small law firm to a large law firm to a solo practice to the state; I went from married guy to separated guy to almost married guy to married guy; and now one son is going to medical school and another son just bought a house in Texas.

The question is simple: What next? I feel the pains of aging – physically, mentally, spiritually – but it’s too early to be an old man. I think turning 50 years old made others and me wanna reevaluate life. What worked. What didn’t. To separate the wheat from the chaff, especially as to what provided moments of happiness, and opportunities to experience joy.

—ooOoo—

I’m going to help support her move. I’m also gonna make some decisions.

—ooOoo—

The reluctance is partly based in fear: Of the unknown, to let go; Of the emotion, to let someone; Of the insecurity, to be good enough. I thought it might be vanity, feeling and witnessing the physical effects of aging, but it’s something else – it’s definitely something more. It’s impossible not to notice the emotion. An odd sensation of being lost or adrift at sea.

The reluctance is also partly based in desire: Of compatibility, to uniquely touch another; Of history, to make memories with another; Of interrelatedness, to let moments with another be opportunities for awareness and joy. All of these things tell me there’s a need to sort this shit out. In the immediate future, I must grow up, I must make decisions.

—ooOoo—

More later. I have a ton of boxes and furniture to move around the house.