Sobbing Joy

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Geo: 49.2605, -123.114

While on the road, I have been trying to make a very conscious effort to listen to my body, listen to my deep desires (not just fleeting and ephemeral ones), and act accordingly - in ways that will provide my body and soul with the things that they truly need, not just what I think they need (the disconnect between the head and heart/body/soul). I've been surprised again and again at how loudly the body speaks when you are actually listening for it. Sleep, drink, a certain food or nutrients, a destination, a direction, an amount of time, a spoken word, a touch, a look... I believe that, beyond just our fleshly desires and the firing synapses of our brains, our body, soul, and spirit tell us exactly what they need. If we can listen and give them what they need to be healthy then we, being composed of them, will be entirely and wholly healthy.

After Glacier, my next main destination was back to the Nevada desert for Burning Man. I had a couple options. One was to spend a few days exploring Montana and Idaho a little bit, slowly working my way down. However, I had a pretty deep desire to head back to Vancouver to see
Shari, not knowing when or if I would see her again. I looked further than just the obvious attractions and desires to see her again and I felt something deeper. I felt like there was a real reason to see her again, perhaps to gain something from her, perhaps to give something to her. A glimpse of love. A healing touch. Insight. Guidance. I didn't know, I just knew that I needed to go west.

Our situation was a little tricky. There was an obvious attraction and an undeniable connection. However, after the end of my last relationship, I noticed an unhealthy pattern in myself and made a commitment to myself to not get involved in a romantic relationship until I had done or discovered whatever I needed to in order to not make the same mistake again. This meant, mainly, spending time alone. Non-attached. A time to seek the Divine and to discover myself, to create myself. A time to treat myself with kindness, and to, although it may sound silly, fall in love with myself. To really enjoy, appreciate, amplify, and celebrate who I am. I communicated all of this with her. Although it was difficult at first and looked as if that would be the end, the conversation opened up such a beautiful space for honesty and trust and understanding. We decided, although the future was unsure and there were no promises of any kind, to spend a couple days together before I returned to Nevada.

I planned on spending a day or two exploring Montana and Idaho and getting there Saturday night. Sitting at a gas station in Kalispell, Montana, we were talking on the phone and she said jokingly "...or you could just drive through the night and get here sooner." Like a lightbulb, it was undeniable, of course, there could be no other way - I would drive until I got tired, sleep, and drive and drive until I reached Vancouver. For years I had wanted to explore Idaho, but at that moment, I just knew - there was no other place in the world I would rather be than with her.

And so I drove. Until 4 in the morning, the backwood roads of Idaho thick in the darkness of night, the spotlight of a train eerily illuminating the trees in its path as I got closer and closer before finally overtaking it. A 2am piss on the side of the road, the stars so bright and clear and close that they were brushing the top of my head. 4am - it was time to sleep. Bonner's Ferry, Idaho, an old farm road, 10 minutes back, rustic dirt turnoff, perhaps an old logging road, flat spot of ground neatly blanketed in pine needles, sleep. Up at 7. Piss. Back on the road. Sandpoint, Newport, Colville, Kettle Falls, Republic, Tonasket. The trees in numbers like grains of sand on a pristine Mediterranean beach, cool emerald waters replaced with and endless blue sky. Oroville, nearing the Canadian border, nervous as hell for my third border crossing. For good reason. Got stopped and searched for an hour, criminal background check ran by a miserable Napoleon man, drug dog, sniff sniff, "something in your truck is driving our dog crazy, and it's a lot easier if you just tell us what you have and where it is." "I have nothing." Two or three more accusations. Sniff sniff. Back to the dummy vehicle, back to my truck. Sniff sniff. "Why don't you just tell us what you have?" "You can take that truck apart piece by piece and you won't find a thing." Fuckers. I just sat back and smiled, knowing that they were observing my behavior for any glimpse of guilt. Sniff sniff. After 40 minutes of this, I was finally handed my keys and passport by the second man, who was working with the dog. Napoleon had disappeared by this time, probably crying in the bathroom because he knew he was wrong. "Thank you for your time," as I was handed my keys. I said nothing, for I had nothing nice to say. 2pm. 6 hours still to go.

7:30 - pulled in to the park she works at. Made it! Unbelievable. Friday. A night early. Got my guitar and sat in the gazebo by the park entrance, waiting for her shift to end at 9. Long story short, surprised the hell out of her. And embarrassed the hell out of her as she walked red-faced past her heckling and teasing coworkers. Well played, sir. Well played.

The next three nights and 2 days together were fantastic. She worked on Saturday (her Friday). I hardly left the bed, thoroughly exhausted from spending 16 of the prior 20 hours driving. Despite what any of you readers are thinking, the relationship had not been consummated at this point, nor would it for the first couple days after my triumphant arrival. This time together, the sexual tension, the conversations, the city-seeing, the deepening connection, however, made said consummation so incredible and intimate, two bodies, two souls, two spirits, all coming together at once. Not much else productive was accomplished after that. 😉

<Warning: PG-13 material ahead>

Her part-time roommate was there on my final night in town. We wanted to spend some time alone. If you need to ask why, just stop reading and go find a Harry Potter book. Late in the evening we got in my truck and just drove, letting the Night guide us. We were guided to a small, quiet park, backed into in the shadows, and crawled in back, setting the mood with a small candle and light music. Our quickly naked bodies met each other under the sheets and blankets in the back of my truck, my bed, my home, my haven. Like waves in a vast ocean, slow and gentle, yet mighty and powerful. Vancouver woke as we climaxed in unison, sending tremors through the tires and into the ground, like lightning down every street and into every corner of the enchanted city.

And then she wept. She sobbed. She wailed! I held her tight in my arms, felt her tears run down my cheeks and to the pillow, just letting her be and experience and feel loved. I felt her chest heaving into mine. Her fingers tightly, almost mournfully, gripping my back. And she sobbed. Like centuries of emotion being built up behind a massive dam, until one day it finally broke, letting everything just spill and flow and rush in freedom. Sobbing joy.

The next day we said our goodbyes. She cried. Thankfully, I didn't cry until I was on the road. "Don't cry that it's over," she said, "be thankful that it happened." Still not sure what would become of us. Unsure when or if we would see each other again. But I was able to share with her one of the most transcendentally beautiful moments of my life, and she would probably say the same.

While on the way back toward the US border, while lost in thought about my time with her, I had what will surely be one of the greatest epiphanies of my life. Trying to write it now, I realize that words cannot even do it justice, cannot even begin to capture its potency and power and the emotion that it brought to me, but for the first time in my life, I really, truly, deeply believed with my whole being that I was worthy of being loved. Read that again... slowly, digest every word: For the first time in my life, I really, truly, deeply believed with my whole being that I was worthy of being loved. It was something I had always known, in my head, but had never truly believed before. As with Shari the night before, another ocean withheld by another worthless dam was let loose and the tears poured down my face. There was a constant stream running down my cheeks - one tear would not even be to the end of my nose before another followed in suit. And, like the night before, I sobbed. I wept like I rarely have before, chest convulsing, breath jumping, moaning, as if I had just seen a horrific tragedy. But completely the opposite. No tragedy, no fear, no sadness. Well, perhaps sadness, but only in the sense that it had taken me 31 years before I finally could believe that I was worthy of receiving love from another. That someone else could love me. Would choose to love me. ME!!! For miles and miles I sobbed, hardly pulling it together enough for the border crossing, only to continue most of the way through to Seattle. The most wonderful and freeing tears I have ever cried. Sobbing joy.

The day was capped with a glorious sunset at Crescent Beach, Oregon. To be all poetic and cheesy, as the sun set, ending another day, I knew that from this point forward, I would never be the same.

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Comments

[Loaner of Bicycles]

The second picture actually made me think of the Goonies. Damn Fratellis. So are you heading back to Vancouver or is that it?

[Loaner of Bicycles]

awesome