Makes a memory

img_20151223_134118.jpg

I am most comfortable, in the knowing. I don’t like anticipation in its truest form. I want to taste, feel, and live the moments. I want it burned into me with a dremel. I live like a go fast boat , a race car, a rocket.  I remain emotionally immobile for great lengths of time. Where I function, laugh, play, work… I exist until I go boom. And in those moments when my tether is cut free. I float and soar, dip and dive. I excell expectations of my inner critic.  And I make a memory…

Many years ago… I was in a red dress at a xmas party. My Boss at this time, Eric who’s home, I am living in presently.. his guestroom…. (another story for another time) turned up with his girlfriend Teresa. He was down for the holiday, We had a really big trip coming up within my org. Needs must.

I remember the clang clamor of the voices.. The cocktails. My man Beau’s hand in mine, as he pulled me close and whispered , “Biz, ur a riot.” My scarlet dress swirled in its crimson folds around my knees as I strode to my Lie and Die team and their +ones. I had been promoted a week before and was now- lead instead of followed. This next trip out would be my Jesus come to call, baptism by fire…. Eric the man who charms the  wicked and angels borrowed me with a wink from Beau’s hands. And for a man who struggles with dancing, stepped into Cary Grants’s shoes to a rock and roll tune.

As Bon Jovi crooned, we made a memory. Swaying back and forth. An unspoken love affair that we never had. A truth that we both knew from all we had seen. He was to much older and I to young at the time. I was a year back with my child’s father and making it work. I was finally realizing my worth as a human. Eric had his hand against my bare back as he walked me through the next years of my life. Always the coach, he pep-talked me, rewarded me,scolded me over a matter of moments. He brushed my long red curly hair into a sway as we danced. I felt my first bit  pride. Isn’t that shocking? That was my first time I actually understood that people believed in me. It was 2007.

Always the gentleman, he returned me to Beau. Told him he had an amazing lady….I oend that next time in the field and wrote my story through sheer determination, luck and good people around me.

This evening as he poured me a glass of wine and tried to deflect the unending drama,  he smirked as Want to make a memory came on the music channel. Our hands met, and I felt the thrill of energy that he inspires, the rocket rider, baby go boom girl. Whatever else this Xmas,I am in a place where I am believed in.

And that’s what memories r made of. That one moment of belief.

img_20151223_135815.jpg

 

 

 

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Makes a memory

  1. Your ability to examine yourself objectively and the insights you gain are amazing. It’s hard to believe that the events of which you wrote were only eight years ago. I’ve known you four years now – about half of that time – and I have believed in you every minute of those four years. I have trusted you with my life and I so totally believe in you that it’s hard to believe how recent your belief in yourself is. Once again, that you for sharing, in your exquisite words, your inner self, your growth and your blossoming. Always remember this – I believe in you – and always will.

    With love and respect,

    BL

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s