You don’t have to go, you’re my Poetry Man

It’s funny how life leads us back to the past when we least expect it. I’ve been missing me, and wanting to get back to me for a long time now, and now that I am back I am not so sure this is where I want to be. Am I lost? I am not so sure. Some days I feel as if I am exactly where I should be and others, I am so far away from the person and the place I want to be it breaks my heart.

I picked up my guitar this afternoon to pour my heart out, and it came-it came with abandon. I am willingly holding my wrist out for it to be cut and I am happy about it, such is bliss. There must be something in me that is flawed and scared or maybe I am completely coherent and cognitive, craving experience, quickening my life. Conflicted? To say the least. It’s my own personal dualism. That is what makes it all so tricky. One moment I want it all-decadence, debauchery, lust, risk, the ultimate edge- and the next moment, only purity. Who am I? Who I’ve always been…society just snuck in a little bit.

I am ready to walk freely into my decision, but I am not sure it will be that willingly, without judgment or guilt. I am not sure it will be without challenge, tears and drama. But, I want nothing else, and nothing more at the moment.

So for now, I revisit the bohemian artist dwelling within my soul. She always wants to come out to play when I am conflicted. I wish, with everything in my soul, that I have the strength to live within her or banish her once and for all. The latter will never occur. It’s impossible to let oneself disappear even if it is something that may be the absolute best thing for living and surviving in this harsh, real, financially driven, materialistic world. That world has no place for her-the sensualist, the lover, the beautiful dreamer. And so she suffers. But she willingly and almost joyfully suffers the cut that only cuts the heart.

The Poetry Man:

You make me laugh

Cause your eyes they light the night

They look right through me

You bashful boy

You're hiding something sweet

Please give it to me yeah, to me

Talk to me some more

You don't have to go

You're the Poetry Man

You make things all rhyme

You are a genie

All I ask for is your smile

Each time I rub the lamp

When I am with you

I have a giggling teen-age crush

Then I'm a sultry vamp

Talk to me some more

You don't have to go

You're the Poetry Man

You make things all right

So once again

It's time to say so long

And so recall the cull of life

You're going home now

Home's that place somewhere you go each day

To see your wife

Talk to me some more

You don't have to go

You're the Poetry Man

You make things all rhyme

**Phoebe Snow, 1975

What I like in a man…

A few nights ago my favorite gay boyfriend and I were talking about our “types” and tastes in men…he realized that I have no consistent type when it comes to matters of the heart and attraction. None of the men I have dated resemble each other physically. But, I protested…I do have a type, a personality type. Many of the men from my past are not the most beautiful men or the most successful men…but they are all very sexy men.

I go absolutely weak in the knees for men with a little quality I like to call “Throw Down.” It is almost indescribable and can be difficult to articulate but throw down is a combination of factors that I crave in a man whether he is a certain physical type or not.

Throw down is that little bit of passion that makes him slyly sneak a kiss from me when I least expect it. It is never forced or demanded…but stolen unexpectedly as he walks by me on the stairs, barely hidden from view, on his way back to his meeting. It is never for show or to prove a point or to mark me as his possession in front of his friends…but, it is a private little moment shared between us. It is the kind of passion that fails to ask if it is ok to kiss me, but just thrusts my back, hard up against the wall, and takes my face in his hands as he kisses me. He has the confidence and the conviction to know I am not going to be able to resist him.

This kind of man has passion in his life as well, not just passion for me or for sex. He always has a love outside of romantic entanglements….an interesting career or hobby. He is often an artist or a musician, but that is rarely his job. He is passionate about his work and his hobby and that kind of fire permeates his life. This is the kind of man that has a full life. He has interests and friends and a past and a future. He is not obsessed with his baggage because he has dealt with it…but, he is not obsessed with his future either.

This is the kind of man that knows how to treat a woman. He is romantic. He is chivalrous but not too much. He is confident enough to tell me what to do, as a man, and he knows I will respond, as a woman. It is only in his ultra masculine presence that I feel comfortable enough to soften my prickly and independent exterior and allow my feminine and seductive side to shine through. He is completely a man and I am able to become completely a woman.

He is generous, kind and gentle but really only in private….and I know it is only for me, which makes me feel incredibly special and ultimately loved. He can be a bit arrogant and cocky but never to the point of being vulgar. He is an expert in his field but he has some humility about it. He knows how to take control of the situatin, of his life, and of me….and I want him to do it…..

These men have very strong, masculine personalities. It is almost impossible for me to make eye contact with them in public, because I melt. They are potent and virile and intoxicating. When I am in their presence I am completely at ease….and yet I am incredibly uncomfortable because we cannot keep our hands off of one another….but we do, because it is so much more exciting to wait for the private little moment…like it is a hidden and dirty little secret. When we are in seclusion there is nothing that can dampen the fire.

He has a sense of style. He dresses edgy even when in fabulous jeans and a simple tee shirt. He always has a great haircut, his hair is slightly messy, not too short and never too long. and he has a fantastic white smile. He pays attention to his skin and to the look of his hands. This guy cleans the dirt out from under his fingernails. He is never obsessed with his looks but he is a combination of Rob Thomas, George Clooney and the guy next door. He always knows what is appropriate for every situation and never under dresses but he never over dresses either. And…there is absolutely something sexy about a simple silver bracelet on his left wrist.

So…essentially…my “type” doesn’t just consist of beautiful brown eyes, short hair, fantastic abs, a sexy accent, and the most seductive smile I have ever seen…

Men, meet the telephone

I was having a bottle of wine with my girlfriends a few months ago and the conversation turned to men as it usually does. Of the four of us, one has a sexy boyfriend, one is sleeping with her single and very hot boss, one is on Match.com and I am playing the field with several men. Don’t get me wrong; we are all ok with our current situations to an extent. For example, Nina is dating a great guy that loves her, but he really never gives her what she wants. And her roomie is looking for love on Match but hasn’t found Mr. Right, or even Mr. Right now. I am dating several men, nothing too serious, and no one in particular. I refuse to settle for less than I want and none of these men have shown me that they have what it takes to be a great match for me. The one thing that all of these men have in common is that they DON’T CALL.
Some schools of thought say that they (the men) are just not that into us if they don’t call, but others say that Mars needs to be in control and Venus just needs to wait around for them and let them run the show. Modern women don’t like to sit around for any man to run the show, we just go after what we want and if they can’t handle that it is their problem! Men need to catch up and get in the new game. Or do they?
Personally, I have never been good at the dating game because; I am smart, educated, successful, and often impatient and don’t have time to sit around and wait for a man to get it together to pick up the phone and call me when it is convenient for them. What about that is convenient for me? I don’t like to play that game and if he doesn’t call there are other men lined up who may want to take me out to dinner or a show.
Now, granted, this tactic leads to a lot of first or second dates and nothing else…. but, I am also not waiting around pathetically for the phone to ring.
Why can’t guys get this message…Women hate waiting for your call…call us the next day if you are interested…because we are not going to wait around for long!!!!
We know you want to chase us and we know that you need the control but in a day and age when email takes less than a second and I can get my dry cleaning in 12 hours, I expect a guy to call me with in a few days. I am not going to wait for a telegram or the pony express to figure out if you are interested or not. It’s true, when you don’t call when you say you will, I do assume you are just not that into me and I say “well that was nice, but, NEXT!!!” So you lose and I may lose too. By the time you get around to figuring out if you are in to me I have moved on and we are both wondering what could have been.
So. Let me ask you all out there, why don’t men call and how long do women wait for a call?

Motorcycle Boy

Motorcycle Boy,

Did you take a nice long ride on your Triumph when you got home? I am jealous.
I went for a little ride on Sunday, it was a beautiful day in Denver. Cool, sunny, and quiet.

We learned some interesting things about each other and have some parallels in our lives. I am intrigued and would like to know more about you and your life.

If we were sharing a bottle of wine together
these are some of the questions I would ask you...

Did you grow up in Montreal? Tell me about your family. Do you have children?
Do you have a really cool dog?
My dog is really cool. We go everywhere together.
I will send you a picture of Oscar Wilde. I also have a cat. His name is VooDoo and he is a Norwegian Forest Cat--weighs 20 pounds and is skinny.
J'aime mes garcons...ils sont mes petits amis!

What brought you to your current job and what did you do before? I know you mentioned a British company and Rolls Royce...and rigging...tell me more about that.

What is your favorite book, music, and movie?
I checked out your poet by the way.

What is your favorite time of the day?
My favorite time is twilight, the light is the most beautiful then.

If I come to Montreal what would you show me? Where would you take me? What would you suggest I see and do alone?
What is your favorite thing to do or see there?
What will be my favorite thing?

Love Letters

I received an interesting little email the other day. Remember I told you about the beautiful firemen from Montreal? Claude and Yves?
I opened my email on Sunday morning after and incredibly busy and frustrating weekend at work and there, between work and spam was the name Yves. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the same Yves. It wasn't the same email address I had written to in the past but not recently. Recently I had been too busy to even think about men...as sad and lonely as that sounds.

I took a risk and opened the letter. It was very brief and slightly cryptic. He apologized for being rude and for his silence. He told me his wife left him a few weeks prior to our encounter. He told me she left a financial mess for him. And then he told me he was in a hotel room in Albuquerque.

Intriguing. It stirred something inside me.

I wrote back, explaining that while I was taken aback by his silence, am very happy to hear from him now. I asked him what happened in his marriage and why he was in New Mexico....I invited him to keep in touch...

I have so many questions. Why email me at all? Why tell me you are just down the road (several hundred miles but still)?
I have not received another letter...Why?

What is wrong with Married Men

I am not sure what it is about married men, but; they have a thing for me. In the past two years I have unknowingly attracted a whole string of them. I never seek them out and I am not the type of girl to settle for seconds. I may have unconventional views of marriage and monogamy but I’d never force them on another married couple.

When I get into a flirtation with a man the second question I ask them is, “Are you married?” They always respond with a “No,” or something along the lines of “I’m separated,” or “We are getting divorced,” or my all time favorite, “My wife just doesn’t understand me anymore.” One man actually said, “Why couldn’t I have met you while I was still single?”
Let’s see, there have been the Wine Maker, the Italian, the Ball Player, the Chef, and most recently the middle-aged Barista. One thing they all have in common is that they are all in their forties or fifties.

This cute couple always came into the wine store to buy a bottle of Italian red for him and Jack Daniels for her. They were happy, friendly, and interesting. They seemed made for each other. The man is half Italian and his long time, live in girlfriend is one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met. A year ago, in the spring he started to come in alone to make their purchases. I’d always ask about her, and how they were doing. He’d always ask me about my studies. I study at work when it’s slow. Apparently, she traveled frequently for her job. As it turned out, his daughter was in one of my classes. He was very impressed that I maintain a 4.0 GPA and I work full time. I guess the daughter doesn’t pull those kinds of grades.

We became friends; talking about hopes and dreams and the future. He wants to travel through Italy and see where his family comes from. He is a cyclist. I suggested he give winery/cycling tours through Italian wine country. I thought he was a great guy; friendly, caring, interested, but involved and in love with his girlfriend….so I immediately put him into the friend category. We talked about the demise of my last relationship and all of the lies and deception I went through. I began to trust him.

When the semester was over he offered to take me to lunch to celebrate my good grades and a much-needed break. We went around the corner to a little place for an alfresco lunch late one afternoon after I got off from work. He was so easy to talk to and we had everything in common. After lunch he walked me to my car, and then he kissed me. I was shocked and very put off by the kiss. I didn’t know what to think. I got in my car and simply drove away.

I didn’t hear from him for a few days. When he did stop by the store he apologized for surprising me with the kiss. I asked about his girlfriend. He said, “We are probably breaking up, and she has accepted a job in Detroit. She is moving there and I am not going to go with her...My life and my family are here...” After a moment, he said, “I’d really like to see you again, will you go out on a real date with me?” I told him I’d think about it and gave him my number. We went out that Saturday night and there were definitely sparks.

We went out for three months. We went for dinner at Via, and for drinks at Samba and the Cruise Room. All summer long we wandered the streets of LoDo hand in hand and made out like teenagers at the DCPA. We were both enchanted. I was beginning to fall for him. We had very hot sex all over his loft; on the kitchen counter, in the living room, in the bedroom, up against the wall...We had long, heartfelt conversations about our dreams, hopes, interests, lives, and our ex’s. The conversation quickly became a “we” conversation. He told me he was falling in love with me and that they were over. Then, one day…he told me that he and the soon to be ex-girlfriend were going to Mexico for a week on a vacation that they had planned before the break-up. I was upset and didn’t understand why anyone would go on vacation with their ex even if it was already paid for.

A few weeks later, after nothing from him, She walked in the store. I was definitely surprised to see her but used my acting chops to cover it up and muster the courage to ask her how she had been. She told me she had been in Detroit for two months working on a contract and that she was so thrilled to be home…

As soon as she left I called the cheating, lying bastard and told him that his lovely girlfriend and I just had a fabulous conversation and she told me everything I needed to know about him. Immediately I stopped calling him and wouldn’t accept his calls. I told him to leave me alone. What a complete jerk. I now realize that he lied to me over and over just to use me for a hot, summer fling. He knew how badly I had been hurt by lying and cheating in my last relationship and he was angery with my ex for treating me that way, but, the entire time we were together he was lying to me as well. That is evil.

Over the last year he still comes into the store and flirts with me and asks me out on the occasional date. He still tells me how enchanted he is, how beautiful and sexy I am, and how much he wants to be with me. He still tries to kiss me. And, until yesterday, it was so hard to resist him. But now, I see him for who he really is. ( A few months ago I ran into her in the park and she told me she is going to Australia for a month this summer.) Like clock work he came to see me the minute she left.

Two days ago, he came by my work and had big tears in his eyes and I could tell he was miserable. He told me he missed me and fumbled around with his words. He told me I looked amazing, elegant and beautiful, and that he couldn’t resist me anymore. He asked me to lunch the following day, which was yesterday. I accepted his invitation and thought to myself, “This is the perfect time to tell the Italian bastard off once and for all.”

Just as I was getting ready to walk out the door for our lunch he called:
“I don’t think we should have lunch today.”

“Why.” I asked, casually.

“Because you entice me, and intrigue me, and you are so sexy that you scare me.”

“What is so scary about me?”

“I want you and I shouldn’t, I don’t know what to do, but we can’t have lunch.”

“Ok, no problem, but, then you need to stop seeking me out, and coming to see me, and calling me. I am never seeking you out. You need to leave me alone.”

“Ok, (followed by a very long pause) are you sure?”

“Oh yes, yes, and you need to delete my number from your phone.” I replied very calmly.

And with that I deleted the Italian from my life. What makes him think that I deserve to be jerked around like that? It was the lies that killed it. Had he been honest things would be different. What makes him think that I don’t deserve more than that? Is it because I am sensual, and sexy, and understanding, and compassionate? Am I just that unattainable wildfire that every man fantasies about but doesn’t have the courage to be with? I guess I will never know. My only question now is, “What in the hell is wrong with married men?”

To Fly or Not To Fly

The D. A. called me last night at 7 pm to confirm that we are going to go flying and then to lunch on Sunday. He has a small plane and a passion for flying. When we were dating a year ago I asked him to take me up. He never did. He is very good-looking and very good on paper with his big law degree and his important job. A year ago I thought we had a spark.

I went to a wedding with him last weekend after months of zero contact. He called out of the blue, and I thought it might be fun to get dressed up for the evening. I was mainly in it for the cake and the dancing. He wanted a pretty girl on his arm and to feel me up. We were almost late and he had to drive like a crazy man.

The wedding was nice, at the botanical gardens. It was a young couple, too young to be getting married. The groom was the son of his work out partner. The ceremony was short and sweet. The reception was inside a large tent with air conditioning, passed hors d’ouvres, a simple buffet, and cheap wine. He is an extremely picky eater, to the point of being rude. “I don’t eat mayonnaise, or anything with mayonnaise in it, or anything fermented, or anything with cheese, I don’t like fruit or vegetables…and I don’t like this or that.” How embarrassing. “Can I have some dried out, plain chicken and bland steamed veggies without any flavor or life left in them…” I guess some people never learned to be gracious and polite.

The band was a great little blues and country cover band. They were showmen and really knew how to work the crowd. It was the high point of the evening for me. After the first dance, the dance floor was packed with young and old people having fun. He wouldn’t even dance with me so I danced alone with all the other disappointed ladies. After the wedding cake was cut we left. I barely had a chance to have a bite of my cake. It was only 9:30 pm. The wedding started at 7 pm. He was tired from kayaking all day. Great, I felt I’d dressed up for nothing.

At the wedding he asked me to go flying with him the next weekend and I told him I’d think about it. He said he’d take me to lunch, like real a date. Friday evening when he called to confirm our date he said I'd have to meet him at the airport because he HAS to go kayaking straight from the airport and there will be no lunch, and we can only fly for an hour.....
Moments later he asked me to dinner. I was walking my dog and I'd just eaten a bowl of lime gelazzi, Oscar had vanilla. Nothing like waiting until the absolute last minute. It always feels like his other plans fell through when he calls me and I am the last minute, backup girl.

Should I go flying or should I delete him from my life? (I actually know the answer to that question.) From his actions I know that we are not and will never be in a real relationship, or even be friends. It seems he only wants physical affection, but, only once in awhile, and when he has nothing and no one else to do. But, when we are together he is affectionate and seems interested. He said he wants to take me to Paris for a week in the spring. He thinks he is very skilled at his game but it is actually completely transparent.

So, he called me an hour before I was supposed to leave for the airport to ask for a rain check. I had no intention of going to the airport. He was busy the day and night before and didn’t get enough sleep, blah, blah, blah. He asked, “Can you reschedule for next weekend?”

“No. I have plans.” With a roll of my eyes.

“How about during the week, are you free in the morning?”

“No. I don’t think so, I work and school is starting in a week, I am really busy.”

“Well, can you at least go to dinner with me this week.”

“No. I am busy all week.” Thinking to myself…I have to clean my house, do laundry, wash my hair, and spend time with my dog and my cat.

“Ok, well, I’m gonna call you and ask you out, it was really great to see you the other night and hold you in my arms for a minute…” (Which is man code for I’m horny and you’re a warm body!)

I hung up the phone. He hasn’t called. I guess I will hear from him in a few months when he has some B-list event and can’t find a date.
Too bad, I won’t be answering my phone next time.

My crazy dating life

I seriously have the strangest dating life of anyone I know. In the span of two years I have managed to attract a fine mix of men. I am not going to use their real names here but to anyone who knows me knows that these titles are very transparent.

The District Attorney (D.A.)
Very nice looking man. He is 54 years old, which I agree is too old for me, but, he is physically active and fairly sharp. He is a classic narcissist and very arrogant. He was fun in the beginning. He has a jazz show on Tuesday nights. He is a pilot (small planes) a kayak fanatic, and way too athletic. He is always nursing some injury. We dated a few years ago but he is so completely unavailable in every way that I finally just lost interest. He still calls me now and then for dinner or some B-list event.

The Wine Maker
Not really my type at all but he makes great wine. He is short, plump and balding with a girly Southern accent. I wanted him as a mentor and he offered to be one. He is from Texas and lives in Northern California where he has been making wine for thirty years. He told me he was separated from is non-understanding, bitchy, wife and she lives in Southern Cal. He asked me to dinner twice and canceled both times at the last minute. His wife was recently stalking me via hate email.

The Professional Baseball Player
I met him in the wine store and began to sell him a vast amount of high-end wine via mail order. He played for the San Diego Padres when I met him and ended up retiring as a member of the Los Angeles Dodgers, after a very successful twenty years playing the game. He told me he was divorced from his model wife because she wanted to raise the kids in Florida and he was transferred to California. He hated her…it was something about a major contract and millions of dollars that she has cost him. We went on a handful of dates. Then his wife intercepted a wine order bill and called me about it…they were obviously still very much together.

The Italian
This guy was a patron of the store. He and his girlfriend have been living together for ten years and she helped him raise his three children. His daughter and I are friends. We had a class together. He is 45 years old. He is a cyclist. He is cute, funny, and usually very light hearted. He is going through a small mid-life crisis. He is, unfortunately, very charming and has many of the qualities I am looking for in a man so it was easy for me to become involved with him. We dated for several months last summer when I thought he was newly single. We shared our dreams and inspired each other. You will get the full story later.

The Spy
This guy was intriguing. He works as a “Spy” for the Department of Defense. We talked about conspiracy theories and went on one very nice date at Venice. He thanked me over and over for the date, and the new restaurant experience, and made quick follow up call for a second date the next day. Never went on the second date and never heard from him again.

The Barista
This married man works at the Market, my favorite café on Larimer Square. We’ve always been friendly and chat whenever I am there. He is a musician so we have that to talk about. He is so not my type; short, chubby, late forties, and he works in a coffee shop. Lately, he has been very flirty. He does landscaping and I gave him my number months ago so he could refer me to a great backyard fountain and Koi pool guy. He won’t stop calling me. He said, “Why couldn’t I have met you when I was single.”
I haven’t been going in for my morning coffee and today when I stopped in for an espresso he gave me the cold shoulder and tried to charge me double. I laughed and left the coffee sitting there as I walked out the door.

The Chef
Heavy flirtation at work with the chef, who told me he is not married and not happy, and only lives with her because she has nowhere else to go…I believe him. I will write more about him later. He is very unhappy at home. But, clean that up before you ask me out. Granted, the restaurant business is laden with constant sexual innuendo and major flirting. Most of the people in the business are hooking up and trading partners on a regular business. It’s a little twisted. But, it can make the work more interesting.

The Kid
After months of being asked out by this young guy I finally went on one date. It was little awkward and I had to lead the conversation. He is a cutie but just not very cosmopolitan. He never called or talked to me again, and made me pay for my dinner. He lives above the wine store so I see him almost every day. He always smiles when he sees me.

The Pilot
My first and only foray into the world of online and long distance dating. He and I carried on by email and telephone for three weeks. There was too much great connection and I felt it was somehow…fake. He became very mean with me and tried to suck me into a twisted mind game. He tried to make me feel like I am less than and bad about myself. Psychotic. He quickly turned out to be very strange, controlling and mean. I ended it and as it ended up; he is was Dom and there is absolutely NOTHING submissive about me! Eew! What is wrong with people?

The best place to be SINGLE in America

What is it about dating these days? I just don't understand standing someone up. Is it so difficult to pick up your celly or blackberry and give me a call or at the bare minimum--send a text..."Sorry babe, I'm not going to make it." I mean, everyone has some form of communication technology strapped to their body like a stylish tracking device.

Denver has been voted the "Best Place in America to be Single" by Forbes magazine off and on for ten years. I often have to translate that title for my single girlfriends. It means: “Denver is the best place to be SINGLE.” This is man-speak. It is utterly clear and without hidden meaning. We ladies often misconstrue the actual meaning by over analyzing it, but it is blatantly clear.

We ladies hear, “Denver is the best place for DATING or for landing a relationship,” but it’s not. It’s the best place to be single. Look around, all you will see are groups of single people hanging out together in bars, cafés, the park, or just about anywhere. Right now, at my favorite café there are two tables of single girls chatting loudly about men while at a table a few feet away there is a table of single guys talking about Guitar Hero.

My Barista friend, Scott, agrees. Denver is the worst place for dating because no one ever makes a connection. No one has to. It’s built in to the culture here to remain single for as long as possible. There is just so much you can do alone or with your friends.

Denver has fantastic weather. It’s sunny, warm, and everyone wants to be outside rollerblading, cycling, rock climbing, or kayaking in the summer and skiing or snow boarding in the winter. These are all solitary activities even when done en masse. Just how much connection do you establish by dangling a rope down a cliff to someone?

When a possible connection is made and I accept an invitation for a real date I often find myself swirling my cappuccino and making small talk as he checks his text messages. That is, if he even shows up.

On this particular evening, I was planning on having a little drink with this sexy guy I work with. I’ve always had a strict “no dating at work” rule, but it has been forever and we have been flirting like crazy for months. He asked me out for a drink thing and I agreed to meet him. He is a great kisser. Every now and then he will grab me unexpectedly and kiss me with such passion that it takes my breath away. Always in some empty room or in the downstairs storage area…where we could be caught at any moment. Very sexy.

Well, I waited for twenty minutes sipping on a cool glass of rosé. He never showed up, and he never called. He blew it. The next night at work he gave me the big “I’m sorry” eyes but he didn’t have a valid reason. He “got scared…I’m too sexy…and blah, blah, blah.” Then he said, “Let’s go out next weekend.” I just shrugged my shoulders and walked away. It’s too bad; he is a really great kisser.

I learned a long time ago after years of dating, that the behavior on and around the first date is a pretty good indicator of the entire relationship. If someone doesn’t respect my time or me, they don’t get a second chance. But, that is just dating in Denver. Is romance worth it?

My cappuccino is drained and I am sipping a glass of wine, sitting in the window of my favorite café watching the world go by. I am looking at one of Denver’s trendiest streets watching the pairings of people scurrying here and there all dressed up but looking stressed and annoyed. I wonder why I want to jump back into the dating game. They don’t look happy or in love, they look bored and obligated. And then they walk by. That perfect couple. They are effortlessly in love and it shows. Neither one is over or under dressed. They are not trying too hard. They are not all over each other as if to prove something or for attention. When they do touch, how ever lightly, I can almost see the sparks their contact with each other creates. When they look at one another, it is like witnessing rapture and a passion that burns not only within them but flows into the entire room over all of us. The temperature of the room seems to rise slightly. I can feel a slight fever within me as I sit on the edge of my seat in anticipation of their next move. It is difficult not to stare at them. It makes me remember a time when I was swept up into my lover’s arms and kissed so deeply that it made me tremble…and then I remember why I want to date again.

I will continue to date, and be stood up, or disappointed, or left wondering why he never called because the passion in my soul is like a wildfire. I am sure most men are unsure if they want to risk being burned or consumed by that fire. I pour the rest of my wine into a paper coffee cup and I walk to the train. I just want to crawl into my warm bed with my dog on one side and my cat on the other and dream about passion.