Love logs

I log my chats.

Like so many things in SL, some people don't mind and some people do. The debate about logging has gone far back, since before I joined SL. These days, it's pretty much assumed that everyone logs chat.

I think it was MAMJJ who was the first person who expressed that he was worried that I logged chat. I explained why I do.

When people worry about logging chat, it's because they fear their own words would be used against them. I have no intention of doing that. Although chat logs have helped me when I caught someone in a lie.

The primary reason I log chats is a selfish one. I want to remember the good moments, the intimate moments, the heartwarming moments. Moments that pass all too quickly. So I could re-live them. So I could feel again the same contentment or passion or joy. So I could feel loved again, at times when I badly need a hug and there is no one there.

They're not chat logs; they're love logs. And I found much love in those logs today.

Crossing the line

I've done it. I've crossed the last line I drew on the sand. This past week, I met two Second Life lovers in real life.

The first was a recent lover; the second was a lover in the distant past. Both are very dear friends, who have touched my life in a significant way.

But the meetings couldn't be more different.

The first gave me an hour or so of his day; the second gave me an entire day. The first was emotionally distant, although he was very friendly; the second was emotionally very warm and intimate.

Both gave me warm hugs. The first gave me a hug before we parted; it was the end of the meeting. The second gave me a hug soon after we met up; it was the beginning of the day.

With the first, our meeting was like a business lunch. With the second, our meeting was like a long-awaited reunion; it felt as though we had met before.

But there is another line that I crossed. The first had a meal with me and satisfied a physical hunger; the second made love to me and satisfied an emotional hunger.

Even the lovemaking felt very comfortable, as though we had done it before. He said that we *had* done it before -- in our minds, in our hearts, in our souls.

He knows how to make a woman feel beautiful and desirable, not just with his words, but with his caresses and his kisses. And that makes him a wonderful lover. Most men think it's a technique that makes them great in bed; it isn't. It's how he makes his partner feel about herself.

The whole day felt surreal, like a dream. And it was very difficult to say goodbye. He stayed with me until the airport shuttle arrived to pick me up early the next day.

This experience changed me, to say the least. And it changed me in many ways. It is significant in my real life as well, because it ended a long fast and broke down self-imposed walls.

What happens now is still up in the air. I'm not expecting anything from him; time is still an issue. I still have other lovers, and he knows that. But the fact that he and I made love in real life sets him apart. Not because real life sex has a higher value than virtual sex (although it is definitely more satisfying), but because he has seen my real self naked and he still thinks I'm beautiful.

Of course, he said that when he wasn't wearing his glasses. ... Hmmm.... :-\

Overlapping lovers

My lovers are overlapping today.

First, let me talk about a new lover. I'll call him "Rocky" because, within a couple of months of each other, we both visited the "Garden of the Gods" in Colorado where there was a rock that seems to defy gravity.

We found that there are many other similarities in our lives. We were married in the same year (not to each other, of course). We lived in the same area. We worked in the same industry. My favorite dim sum restaurant is the exact same one as *his* favorite dim sum restaurant (and, no, it's not a chain). In all those chances of physically running into each other, we never met... until, one day, Alt #11 was wearing a gold gown and found someone wearing a suit with a vest in the same gold shade at Frank's. And I IM'd him because his profile made me think that he might be a fellow writer. That was late last year, but he disappeared for months and just came back. He's still rarely here. *sighs*


Anyway, first story: October2006 IM'd me today after months and months (maybe more than a year?) of no contact. The first thing he said tonight was "love u", just like that, out of the blue. Well, he needed a friend tonight, so I went to give him a hug for a few minutes before he went to bed.

For some reason, after he went to bed, I opened his profile in the Notes tab and realized that he has the same birthday as Rocky. Here are two more coincidences: October2006 is four years younger than I, and Rocky is four years older than I. October2006 got my SLirginity; I got Rocky's SLirginity.


Second story: Yesterday, I was cleaning up my parcel in Amberaldus and I emailed Rapido to ask him to come and pick up his objects, since I'm thinking of selling that parcel. I haven't seen him since late October, although we've communicated briefly through offline messages and emails. The last email was more than a month ago.

Well, he *did* clean up but he left three heart-shaped prims and his email said "I love you so much" and he wants to come back but I'm asleep during the times he could come in. Anyway, I listened to his show today and he played "MacArthur Park" (which I associate with the Poet) then "Amigos Para Siempre" (which I associate with MAMJJ), two songs which I never heard him play before.


Lucky Bastard chatted with me in Yahoo and in email. Surf came in once. And December2006 poked me (again) in Facebook. I told him that, because we keep poking back and forth, it's almost like the other kind of poking, except it's in very slow motion. *grins*


Three current lovers and three very friendly ex's.... A little bit here, a little bit there, and I had a full meal of loves this week. :)

*burps*

Karmic Second Life

Today, I heard a "ding-ding".

The IM was from him, from Tom of The Cromlech. First, there was the system message that said my autoresponse was sent to him. Then, there was his "Hi". That was it. I said "Hi" back. Then a pregnant pause as though we didn't know what to say, which has been typical since we broke up. I asked him what's up. Then a blurry few lines that didn't make sense. Maybe I protested because I asked him not to IM me for a couple of weeks. Maybe I asked him how he was, and all he said was "calm as a wind" or "calm as" something. I forget. But it was a comparison that didn't make sense.

Then I woke up.

This was the most lucid dream I had of him yet. Since the day we met, he had been in my night dreams. There's strong karma here and it's not going to be pleasant. I have a feeling I'm in for a difficult lesson.

In contrast, I had a wonderful morning with Lucky Bastard yesterday before I went to bed. We were on voice the entire time. I mentioned that my new affairs lately seem to last only a week, and he said that maybe I needed someone in real life. I said I don't want a real-life relationship; I have great fear. I hadn't told him the story of my marriage. And as I started telling him, he asked if I wanted to voice instead of typing it out. I guess he sensed it would be a long story. :)

It was the first time I heard his voice. And I heard the voice of a man who is wise and kind and gentle and patient. The voice of a man who cares deeply but doesn't impose his will on others. I heard his laughter. Such wonderful laughter that came with the great wit and sense of humor.

Even though he holds the "title" Lucky Bastard, it is I who am lucky for having met him. He came when I needed him most, and he was there for me. He said that it was karma. If so, I must have done something really good in a previous life.

Towards the end of that conversation, I realized that he is becoming more and more what MAMJJ was to me. Just as MAMJJ was, Lucky Bastard has now also become my teacher, my guru.

Too cerebral

"I find it very distancing and unspontaneous. Everything seems deliberate. Too deliberate, too cerebral."

That's his ISFP self talking about my INTJ self, because I moved him from one alt to another and then proposed a 30-day time limit on the affair, even though I explained why.

But this is who I am. I am INTJ. I'm the exact opposite of what he wants. He wanted me to be emotional, and I thought I already was. With him, I always felt not good enough, and more than once I felt like an idiot because I didn't know some obscure fact. Why the hell am I expected to know about a little country in Africa? As an ISFP, he's more interested in facts. As INTJ, I'm more interested in ideas. I accept that difference; he doesn't.

He would complain about things that I don't know how to fix. He says I have the potential to "sweep someone" (off their feet?) because he had a glimpse of that side of me, and he wanted me to sweep him. I had no idea how. Wasn't that something that just happens spontaneously?

When I think about it, his questions probing about my relationships, asking me to compare him with other men I've been with, felt as though he was choosing between me and another, as though he was weighing the pros and cons of being with me.

Finally, he pondered that we might be better off as friends than lovers. So, we remain friends, but I warned hm I don't have time for friends. He didn't like that.

Yesterday he IM'd me just to say hello, but, as usual, he was distracted. He was dancing with an old flame, while working and chatting with me. I told him I thought it was disrespectful to her because he wasn't focusing on her. He disagreed. I asked if she even knew that he was chatting with me, and he said that he didn't have to give status reports.

He IM'd me again in the evening. I thought that if he kept IM'ing me, that he was hurting from the breakup, so I offered a hug, and he accepted. But, as we started talking, he seemed very cynical and cold. And he was distracted again, I'm sure, so I said I needed to get back to work. I had given him time during the past week, in spite of having deadlines. There was no point to that, if he's not my lover anymore. I don't have to wait on him.

After we said goodnight, I IM'd him again with a request. I asked for no contact for a couple of weeks, to give me time to heal. After a short discussion, he finally agreed. There would be silence.

I know he's hurting, but he's too proud to admit it. In that sense, we are very much alike. I am hurting but I'm too proud to admit it. At least, to him. I confess in this blog instead.

They say we hate in other people what we hate about ourselves, and we admire in other people what we like about ourselves. There were many instances when he rubbed me the wrong way unconsciously and I let them pass. It'll take some time for me to process what he is reflecting back to me. If nothing else, maybe I'd learn a lesson or two.


A lotus

As if on cue, Lucky Bastard logged in after a long absence, looking for me since yesterday. I think there's a psychic link between us now that he could sense when I need him, when my heart is breaking.

We caught up with each other today (technically yesterday) and he said he was thinking about me. I jokingly asked which part of me he was thinking of and he simply said, "soul." And after we passed witty remarks about my dirty mind, he said, "lotus always grows in the dirtiest waters."

A compliment is one thing. That was way beyond a compliment. That was a witnessing. It was as though he said, "I see the true you" in the deepest sense.

I remember something I said many years ago to MAMJJ that he was my witness. At that time, he was the only one who knew my RL identity and my RL-associated alt and he was witness to everything I did. He hasn't been into SL for a very long time now.

Now, Lucky is my witness. He sees me. All the way into my soul.

In a world like this, it is extremely rare to find someone who cares deeply enough to watch over you, who delves deep to truly know you, who accepts and loves you exactly for who you are. He never said he loves me. But what he does for me speaks volumes.


A song dedication

I was feeling lost. Once in a while, I'd get a surge of emotions so strong that my torso would physically curl as though I was hit in the chest. But I have to work.

I was playing Il Divo in Rhapsody in the background. When I heard "Come Primavera", I remembered Rapido. After I checked the time, I realized it was halfway through his show, and I hadn't listened to his show for months, so I did.

He was talking when I turned it on. And suddenly the world changed. It felt like it did when we were together. Images came back to my mind... the pavilion with the elephant he never said anything about, the hammock on the beach sky-orb. There was sun in my mind again.

Then suddenly, I half understood he was about to play a song for "una amiga". Then he said "Il Divo". Then he said other things (in Spanish, of course), but he explicitly said "Opal Lei" several times as though he was making sure that I knew it was for me. I had a big grin on my face.

He remembers me. He remembers us.

He knew I was listening, because his website has tools that showed what cities listeners were from.


If it's real, the love never fades away.

Transformation of the cricket

One lover pulled me back into the real world and, thereby, showed me how one reality enhances the other. But the real world has responsibilities and commitments and vows, and the cricket chirped.

Then another lover brought me into a deeper fantasy and, thereby, reminded me how imagination enhances our lives. And in a world of fantasy, there are no responsibilities, no commitments, no vows, and the cricket was muffled.

That's where I've been. Deep inside my imagination, deep in tales and myths and metaphors and archetypes.

But the emotions are still real. No matter how deep into fantasy you get. At a time when I thought he was rejecting me, he thought I was rejecting him. And I realized that perhaps I was as important to him as he is to me.

In the middle of that argument, he mentioned the cricket. He feels that I'm still hearing it, and he said I had to either shoot it or follow it. He advised following it.

The day after the argument, I sent him a roleplay scenario just for the two of us. A few days prior, he had told me the story of Eos, the goddess of the dawn, who had asked Zeus to make her lover Tithonos immortal, but she forgot to ask for his youth to be preserved. So Tithonos aged and shrunk, until he became a cricket. The roleplay scenario extends that myth. The fantasy continues.

I did take his advice. I followed the cricket. I followed Tithonos... my darling Tithonos.

Midnight came

And went. I didn't expect it to be this soon.

For some strange reason, it wasn't as painful as I expected. Maybe because this is the second time around. Maybe I'm getting numb to this pain. Or maybe I'm still in shock.

What's even stranger is that it felt liberating, as though a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Or maybe off my conscience. Or maybe because it's one less binding tie. It's as though I fell with no safety net under me, expecting to fall splat on the ground, and suddenly realized...

I have wings.

Midnight looms

I'm living my fantasy. I am in a beautiful gown in a majestic palace, dancing in the arms of my prince.

But I know I'm on borrowed time. I know that the fantasy will eventually end. Like midnight is to Cinderella's ball, his lover's return marks the end of my fantasy. Her return will morph my coach back to a pumpkin, my horses to mice, and my gown to rags.

A few days ago, he said he's afraid he'd lose me when I realize that I compromise too much to be with him. That was when I was shaken out of my trance, like the first gong of the clock striking midnight.

I had already compromised my integrity to be with him. It's already done. I know how much this affair is costing me, and I'm still here.

However, if his partner returns, I would have to leave, because I don't think I can deal with that pain again. A pain so great I would physically double up as though someone had hit me in the stomach. A pain that made me moan in anguish because there were no more tears left to cry myself to sleep.

But, for now, I have a few more seconds of bliss in his arms. I don't know how long fate would stretch those seconds for me and keep his partner away, keep the pain away. For now, I close my eyes again and feel his arms around me, his breath on my cheek, the softness of my gown, and the weightlessness of my feet...

In my glass slippers.

A piece of chocolate

If you've ever gone through a weight-loss diet (I'm pretty sure that's true for every woman reading this blog), you know that insane craving that you suddenly have for your favorite indulgence, just because it's forbidden.

And you try to be good and substitute something healthier and you end up jeopardizing your diet because the substitute doesn't really satisfy the craving so you eat more.

Eventually, weight loss advisers understood this craving and actually advised dieters to go ahead and take a little piece of that chocolate.

Well, ten days ago after months of denying myself of that pleasure, I took a little piece of that chocolate. And I was happy for a while. Then I started craving for it again and, unable to have it, I again took the healthy substitute instead. And -- you guessed it! -- the craving is still there.

I need to get me another piece of that chocolate before I go insane.

And you know I'm not talking about food, right?

An epiphany

I can be so dense sometimes. Some days, it takes me several minutes before I get someone's witty remark. In this case, it took me several hours. And it wasn't the remark that was so witty, but the delivery of the message was. In fact, the remark wasn't even the message.

You miss subtle things like that when you're busy. And it's only when your mind relaxes that it suddenly clicks. And -- boom! -- there you are, grinning to yourself like an idiot. And, it's even more embarrassing when you're grinning to yourself in public, like in the middle of a serious discussion over a late lunch with a friend.

And so you have to make an excuse about remembering a joke, but then they want to hear the joke, which puts you in a greater predicament because it wasn't really a joke. And besides, something witty doesn't really stand on its own outside the context it was originally delivered in.

I realize that lots of things probably go whoosh right over my head. Probably more so recently. But, hey, I eventually decode the smoke signals. :D

/me hums, "... is keeping all my secrets safe tonight ..."

My MAMJJ love

Month-ends make me nervous. Well, you know my history. But, just because I didn't have a lover these past five months, it doesn't mean I didn't fall in love. In fact, I did. Deeply.

Perhaps because it wasn't officially a romantic affair that it lasted this long. It was loving, it was tender, it was sweet, it was intimate. But it wasn't sexual. It was more than a friendship, but not quite a romance. Although I loved him as though it were. Perhaps he was, in fact, Mr. March-April-May-June-July. Perhaps he was the real reason why I could not be with any other man.

I panicked when I thought I was "about to lose another friend to real life." I gave up my anonymity to regain his trust and his friendship. I felt intense jealousies well up inside me even as reminded myself that I had no right to feel that way. But I stayed. The next time I was hurt again, I tried to squash the romantic emotion. I failed. Finally, I tried to seduce him, in spite of the cricket.

Thankfully, he was strong enough for both of us during my moment of weakness. My soul is saved, but my heart is not. Not this piece of gravel.

I had no fool for a lover; *I* was the fool.

I Have Killed Her

I have killed her.

I have crushed her in my hand
to avenge the deep cuts of her thorns.

Deep red passion spill out of my veins and drip over her bruised petals.
Dark red bruises creasing dark red velvet.

I have killed her
as I touched her fair sister to my lips,
inhaling the fragrance of golden tenderness.

It will have to suffice.

Hear a reading of this poem at http://wildopallei.mypodcast.com/.