Smoldering

The phrase "be in this world but not of it" is swirling around in my head today.  There's a part of me that loves beyond love connecting with so many people lately and there's another part that revels in the solitude of self. 

I didn't do one three dimensional thing today but pick budding mimosas out of the dirt, pick up pizza and catch up on tv.  I spent most of the time in a lucid dream state where I really tried to write things down but couldn't put ink to paper without my mind wandering in 50 different directions.  Or maybe just one.  Sex.

Sometimes I get this smoldering feeling.  Do you ever get that?  It's a physical thing for me, like my skin tingles about an inch away from my body and there's this need for contact.  I become aware of the clothes on my skin and every single breath and movement and I cannot think about one other thing than reaching out to someone and being swallowed whole in their embrace, their energy...their everything.

It's like this powerful urge to consume, and be consumed by, the heat of another person.  It's that feeling that makes me a lethal flirt.  Audrey even mentioned it in an email the other day.  She said I had an ewwy-gooey seduction thing going on just under the surface and you never really knew what was going to happen next.  She compared me to a lava lamp.  I never heard that before but I pretty much liked it times a million.

I have to be judicious about doling out that seduction.  The seduction is what I refer to as "the blast" and when I unleash the blast there's always collateral damage.  This is why I stay at home a lot even when the Things are away...any moving target could get hit and a lot of them aren't worth the ammunition.   Audrey also pegged me as a sorter.  I guess I didn't realize I did that before either.  But I am a sorter, I sort men. 

I think I was describing to her the sorority weekend and how Tami and Grace were all OMG we want to be in the wedding! when I met this one guy...or maybe two.  Anyway, I wasn't all OMG about it.  Not that they're not good guys, or cute enough or funny or whatever, I'm just okay for now to hang back and see where it goes without rushing in like a flibbertyjibbit and ruining the whole thing.  These guys need to impress me and I'm in a place where I can choose who does and who doesn't.  (The text message at 12:30 am?  Not working for me, but thanks for playing).  We all should be in that place, but it's not as easy as it sounds.  For now, I am learning when to turn the smoldering into a firestorm.  It's a process.