So I had a panic attack today. Could have done something stupid, but I didn't. It was about Adam. Or should I say the man that my character Adam is based on. Our shit got brought up with a couple of guys after the meeting and we were talking about Adam quite a bit. It got me excited. Adam is a mason...a slaying layer of bricks. HE'S AWESOME AT IT. Very talented because he is meticulous and probably anal as hell about his work. He also used to create items out of leather, a leather worker. He said he would make me a belt with my name on it on our first date. He measured my waist with a metal tape measure...I can still see him down on one knee putting that metal tape measure around my waist. Damn it gave me a zinger in my yahoo, and I bolted from his house soon after that scene...let's just say its a HOT memory I have of him.
But that was in December 2012....what has it been that long? Damn. Yeah it has, but I am drifting back today. Damn. Back to today. So the guy at the meeting commented basically how intriguing Adam had been when he knew him, and I agreed. He's quiet, but you can tell when he is thinking. He stares when he is thinking...the wheels are turning in there fo sure. Its hot. Just another memory of him leaning up against my sliding glass door...thinking and smoking. Damn. But I am so worried about him today. I know he drinks now. I hear from everybody that runs into him, that knows me, that he looks like shit. Damn. He was a tall drink of water when I knew him. Hair. Black, long, curly hair. Abs. Terrible tattoos all over him...I digress. But I guess the drinking has taken its toll on him...what a shame! I hope its not anything else he is in to. He was so sweet! And affectionate and like the best hug giver ever...and I am afraid he is drinking himself to death. My heart fears it. I am worried and that is why I am blogging...because I have no one to take this worry to. No one would understand how I still have feelings for this man, of love and care and compassion. I just want him to be ok. I want him to be more than ok. I want him to be happy.
He was five years sober when I met him. In fact he celebrated his five year sobriety birthday during our six fricken whole weeks together. He had robbed a bank. Damn that's kind hot too. I am a sucker for a good redemption story...and he had one of those. He had been to a prison boot camp and he told me all about it. He also bought a gift for me...a Ipod...and a gift for my cat Zander who I had had for thirteen years. I can remember the way he juggled that catnip mouse in his hands kinda tentative before he gave it to Zander. Its the same way he would juggle his keys in his hands when walking to his big ugly truck. He had a walk. A nice walk and great posture. Some say a small head...but I say just right. Friends and associates of mine have called him all sorts of names and things in hopes that I would change my mind about this man. Well. He's still there in the back of my mind. I don't want him to die. He has a lifetime restraining order on me. But I want him to live and be fulfilled and build things with his talented hands...he is so gifted!
So much has happened in my life because of knowing this man. I was finally able to realize how my rape affected my interactions with men, and get help for that from a Psychologist. If Adam had not been so affectionate and sweet with me, just the way he was during that time, maybe I wouldn't have woken up from that slumber. Sexual Trauma PTSD is what its labeled. Where I would repeat behavior associated with how I was treated while being abused. Never felt affection before...didn't know how. Didn't know how to be touched unless I was drunk. I was sober at 15 when my virginity was raped, but never much after that. Adam showed me how. And now its been a wonderful two years with Dragon and I have been able to heal! God is so good.
I wish I could reach out to Adam. I wish he knew that I still care about him. I can't risk trying to find out how he would respond. That could be a persistent felony offense...and I've been through enough. Fuk I just hope he isn't drinking himself to death! I said in my book that when I was worried I would just pretend he was home working on my leather belt. Or playing his guitar. Safe. Warm. AND NOT at the bottom of a bottle. Here's to prayers for a wounded soul that does not know what love is...or maybe does and just does not want it with me. Whatever it is I just pray that he makes it through....
I still have love and care for Adam Raposa...and I am working on a novel with this character in it. I started it three years ago and it is awesome. I am having it reviewed by other writers in a workshop. I am pumped!!! Adam Raposa has saved my life so many times...I wouldn't be writing today if I had never met him. I wish in some way I could save his.
Ah I feel better!
I wrote this in a relapse about Adam...
Can you hear me?
Can you hear my heart beating?
I'm calling you.
It's a secret but I hear you are dying inside:
Nothing left of you.
Can you hear me?
I am crying for you.
Heart beats for measure.
Silent scream...Adam!
I can't touch you.
I can't talk to you and I'm dying inside.
Help me. God help me I miss him.
And I'm dying inside to know you.
Just one more glance and I will show you!
That my heart beats in your measure.
I can feel you loving me...
I can sense your presence...
And here I am alone and you are dying.
Fukn dying!
You're so close to death!
And I can't touch you!
And oh how you touched me and brought me to life!
And I am dying to know you!
Give me that last breath!
I'm so worried about you!
I just want to hold you...
Like in my stories...
You're so real before me...
And I miss you.
I miss your soul.
I miss your walk.
I miss your talk.
Are you ok?
Are you ok?
I hear you're dying...
And I just want to touch you!
To lift you up.
To bring you back to life.
But I can't!
It's not allowed!
And I can't!
And I wish it would stop this love I have for you.
It's made fun of...
And it's not simple.
And I don't know what to do?
Call?
I can't call!
Are you ok?
Are you ok?
Heart beats for measure.
But that was in December 2012....what has it been that long? Damn. Yeah it has, but I am drifting back today. Damn. Back to today. So the guy at the meeting commented basically how intriguing Adam had been when he knew him, and I agreed. He's quiet, but you can tell when he is thinking. He stares when he is thinking...the wheels are turning in there fo sure. Its hot. Just another memory of him leaning up against my sliding glass door...thinking and smoking. Damn. But I am so worried about him today. I know he drinks now. I hear from everybody that runs into him, that knows me, that he looks like shit. Damn. He was a tall drink of water when I knew him. Hair. Black, long, curly hair. Abs. Terrible tattoos all over him...I digress. But I guess the drinking has taken its toll on him...what a shame! I hope its not anything else he is in to. He was so sweet! And affectionate and like the best hug giver ever...and I am afraid he is drinking himself to death. My heart fears it. I am worried and that is why I am blogging...because I have no one to take this worry to. No one would understand how I still have feelings for this man, of love and care and compassion. I just want him to be ok. I want him to be more than ok. I want him to be happy.
He was five years sober when I met him. In fact he celebrated his five year sobriety birthday during our six fricken whole weeks together. He had robbed a bank. Damn that's kind hot too. I am a sucker for a good redemption story...and he had one of those. He had been to a prison boot camp and he told me all about it. He also bought a gift for me...a Ipod...and a gift for my cat Zander who I had had for thirteen years. I can remember the way he juggled that catnip mouse in his hands kinda tentative before he gave it to Zander. Its the same way he would juggle his keys in his hands when walking to his big ugly truck. He had a walk. A nice walk and great posture. Some say a small head...but I say just right. Friends and associates of mine have called him all sorts of names and things in hopes that I would change my mind about this man. Well. He's still there in the back of my mind. I don't want him to die. He has a lifetime restraining order on me. But I want him to live and be fulfilled and build things with his talented hands...he is so gifted!
So much has happened in my life because of knowing this man. I was finally able to realize how my rape affected my interactions with men, and get help for that from a Psychologist. If Adam had not been so affectionate and sweet with me, just the way he was during that time, maybe I wouldn't have woken up from that slumber. Sexual Trauma PTSD is what its labeled. Where I would repeat behavior associated with how I was treated while being abused. Never felt affection before...didn't know how. Didn't know how to be touched unless I was drunk. I was sober at 15 when my virginity was raped, but never much after that. Adam showed me how. And now its been a wonderful two years with Dragon and I have been able to heal! God is so good.
I wish I could reach out to Adam. I wish he knew that I still care about him. I can't risk trying to find out how he would respond. That could be a persistent felony offense...and I've been through enough. Fuk I just hope he isn't drinking himself to death! I said in my book that when I was worried I would just pretend he was home working on my leather belt. Or playing his guitar. Safe. Warm. AND NOT at the bottom of a bottle. Here's to prayers for a wounded soul that does not know what love is...or maybe does and just does not want it with me. Whatever it is I just pray that he makes it through....
I still have love and care for Adam Raposa...and I am working on a novel with this character in it. I started it three years ago and it is awesome. I am having it reviewed by other writers in a workshop. I am pumped!!! Adam Raposa has saved my life so many times...I wouldn't be writing today if I had never met him. I wish in some way I could save his.
Ah I feel better!
I wrote this in a relapse about Adam...
Can you hear me?
Can you hear my heart beating?
I'm calling you.
It's a secret but I hear you are dying inside:
Nothing left of you.
Can you hear me?
I am crying for you.
Heart beats for measure.
Silent scream...Adam!
I can't touch you.
I can't talk to you and I'm dying inside.
Help me. God help me I miss him.
And I'm dying inside to know you.
Just one more glance and I will show you!
That my heart beats in your measure.
I can feel you loving me...
I can sense your presence...
And here I am alone and you are dying.
Fukn dying!
You're so close to death!
And I can't touch you!
And oh how you touched me and brought me to life!
And I am dying to know you!
Give me that last breath!
I'm so worried about you!
I just want to hold you...
Like in my stories...
You're so real before me...
And I miss you.
I miss your soul.
I miss your walk.
I miss your talk.
Are you ok?
Are you ok?
I hear you're dying...
And I just want to touch you!
To lift you up.
To bring you back to life.
But I can't!
It's not allowed!
And I can't!
And I wish it would stop this love I have for you.
It's made fun of...
And it's not simple.
And I don't know what to do?
Call?
I can't call!
Are you ok?
Are you ok?
Heart beats for measure.
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