Lovesong - from two years ago that I never had the balls to post.

There is someone on my mind...who I find is never quite far from it. Makes me a bit foolish, as keeping each other at arm's length for what has become a strong year, had become the only way we can be friends...

Face-to-face. It's stronger than lightning. Stronger than lust. Stronger than anything I've ever felt.

I pushed that feeling deep down inside out of respect for both our situations...though mine was never defined and his is for private reasons that don't belong on this blog...

But there was one time... I was vulnerable, hurting, and more than willing. He could have taken advantage.

He's one of the few men I know who hasn't, not ever.

I know how we feel about each other. On that night, over a year ago, we grew some balls and said that shit out loud. Easier to do when you know something cannot come from the truth. But it was out there, in the universe...

The day we met - there was energy between us, bouncing between us. I was mostly oblivious, as I tend towards the extremely monogamous. He told me later he couldn't stop looking at me, my smile, my neck, the curve of my back, the way I tripped a little in my shoes. The second time - I looked back, felt the answering gaze burst through me. We stared. He rightly told me I was Trouble with a capital T. I returned "Likewise, sir." I moved as far away as possible from all that man sitting next to me. He started to sweat in 50 degree weather.

The third time...it changed. Both extremely aware but unsure. We revealed the truths of our situations and why it wouldn't work. I hugged him goodbye and lingered too long. Tall and short but still matched. I didn't know what to think. I needed to stay away...

I couldn't stay away.

I could lie and say the conversations we had were innocent. I was in the midst of having revealed a love not reciprocated. You could save that was the reason I kept responding. It was flattering and amazing to be the object of such interest. We wanted to know everything. We shared feelings, dreams, regrets, secret wishes. We crossed the virtual line and I waited for the guilt.

It didn't come. I was well aware that my relationship status was "none". At least according to my friends, those who cared enough to listen to my story, then shook their heads at me. "Girl, why the hell are you giving girlfriend privileges to someone who doesn't want to be your boyfriend?" After deliberation I had to agree. I told him that my current lover had to come first - because of our situations, that lover was my only real option for the relationship I was sure I wanted. He agreed to my terms...but I realize now he never put out a similar caveat.

And on a Saturday afternoon I went to meet him at his office. I brought cookies. I was nervous and felt like I didn't know who or what was in my skin, walking around with my face. She was different, warmer...maybe truer. I walked in and his face split into the biggest smile aimed my way I'd seen in a long while. Reminded me of a time when I was 20 and walking in the sun with a male friend, who looked down at me, into my eyes, temporarily thunderstruck. He'd just said "wow...your eyes...wow..." and there was this tense, charged moment where a line could have been crossed...and then he just smiled at me. Like I was a damn birthday gift.

He looked at me like that. And my life changed.

Even now, recently, we reminisce about that day. The one that changed me, moved me forward, showed me that a man can move beyond the temptation of woman to the essence of her. My lover and I never got there - his issues, not mine. But I found myself in front of a man I was completely unafraid of, that I trusted completely...

He has never broken that. Never wavered. Never made a promise he couldn't keep. Comforted me but never coddled me. I was never on a pedestal, never a conquest, never someone to be mistreated and forgotten.

There was one time - I was so damn stressed out I think my hair was literally standing on end. I didn't call my lover. I called him - friend of mine. He made me laugh, made me chill the fuck out, made me break open the bottle of wine in my fridge, run a bath, and think of all kinds of wonderful "what-ifs". I could feel his smile, his caring, through the phone. Almost as good as a hug. Plus, hugs between us were dangerous.

Under such a situation, is it any wonder I began to develop feelings?

Having tea together. Talking late into the night. Having him come see my art. Playing video games, watching movies...writing stories for each other.

But every time, there was a barrier. And every day, my feelings grew a bit. Until the day his situation became a bit more permanent...

I didn't even try to deny that I hadn't imagined an eleventh hour alternate outcome. With him showing up at my door in the rain. And staying. For always. Without realizing it, we'd begun pulling closer to each other, so that if something exciting or funny or sad happened, we called each other first. My art took on a different tone. Hell, my life took on a different tone. We pulled closer, but I'd never felt stronger, more sure, more independent, more capable, in my life.

Purposefully pulling apart...had a physical effect on both of us. I tried to not see him, but when circumstances made it impossible not to, we were cordial in manner while our eyes devoured each other.

I tried to start fresh. I moved. I got a job. I reached out a friendly hand to my lover, then more, because I did love him. Despite his lack of attention, despite his acting like I was no one in front of people. Despite the awkward feeling I had that, while I was denying myself, he was not. The weekend I moved into my new place is when it all came to a head.

The night before was my lover's art opening. I was a bit stronger, excited, determined to show him that my love was not only still there, but so was I. My girl helped me dress, did my hair. I picked out his favorite colors to wear. I got there just in time, an expectant air in my step. Plus - his mother was going to be there and I was going to meet her. There was no one else in my mind...so when I walked in and not only did he shake my hand as if I were an acquaintance, I saw his arm around someone else. It hit me in the gut. Later that night, after I left, mortified by it all, I asked why he hadn't acknowledged me. He said "what should I have said? 'Hey, this is my friend who I fuck sometimes?' "

Told me more than enough. I'd joined a dating site on the advice of another girl. I needed the help so I took one of the guys I'd met there up on the offer to help me move some things. I told him it wasn't a date - extremely platonic - and he agreed, especially since it seemed my lover was once again letting me down... We agreed to meet early, paint the living room, go load up our cars with my stuff, bring it back, have lunch, maybe paint the kitchen. He came there on time. We painted one wall and were exhausted. Walked to the clubhouse to get sodas making friendly conversation...

Came back to look at our handiwork, listen to music. I began to think that, while there were zero romantic sparks, I had made a new friend. Then he put his lemonade down, reached over, grabbed me by the neck, and tried to force himself on me. He was stronger and my struggling got me a slap to the face, a knee to the side. I told myself that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to act like it was all a big joke. He got up to go to the bathroom, to "get ready" and I looked at the door and realized my legs wouldn't work. My phone did. I called everyone I could think of. Friend from Miami answered. I whispered to her to stay on the phone, to not hang up. I whispered my address, and when the bathroom door opened, I smiled, held up a "one sec" finger, and began to have a pretend conversation. I stood up as he stood over me. I pretended to close the phone. And told him, in as calm a voice as I could, that I needed to cut our day short. I moved to the door and opened it. He looked at me in disbelief and picked up his stuff. I stood outside the door and willed my body to not shake, not yet, to just get through. I locked the door after him, got in my car, and drove him out of the complex...I drove straight to my friend. He took a look at me and stood up. I couldn't run to him how I wanted...so I just kind of collapsed, shaking, crying, trying not to scream. He held me. Even with rage pumping off of him, he stayed calm, comforted me, let me cry.

Later I looked at the bruises I had, on my neck, scratches on my arms, purple marks on my thighs. I didn't sleep in my new apartment that night.

After that - things were different. I felt guilt - for running to him, for being so quick to discount my lover. I spent a week afterwards by myself. The following Sunday I went to see my lover. We talked, we cried, and we connected. He told me he loved me and I let myself breathe...and late that night when we had some unexpected company, in the form of that same woman he'd had his arm around, I broke apart.

My friend...he called me. Like he knew I was broken. I asked him if he'd felt a "disturbance in the Force". He asked to come see me. I told him yes.

That night changed everything. I showed him every one of my scars, inside and outside. He showed me his own...and we just stopped fucking lying to ourselves.

I've made this story too long. Probably because there's a lot I wanted to say out loud.

We call each other. Send texts, messages, emails. His situation has almost run its course, and mine is non-existent. We are solid friends - not the wishy-washy kind. We care for each other... love each other. I don't know what the future holds, if anything. But every time I hear this song - the title song - I think of him.

Friend of mine. Maybe we won't have to wait for next lifetime. The Fate you believe in seems to have other plans for us...

Thank you for today.

-Asha


(Song as sung by Adele)

The Bride

I had the wonderful and amazing pleasure of seeing my oldest friend get married today. I laughed, I cried, I danced the Hora, I met the cutest couple ever (next to the bride and groom), and I got drunk off my ass.

As I haven't engaged in ANY kind of fun in a fairly long time, I would have to say this was fairly well overdue.

I was worried about going alone - and had resorted to begging people to accompany me. One by one, for one reason or another, they each cancelled. I pulled on my reserves of understanding and told myself that my fear of being alone at a wedding was not a good reason to be upset with them. People have lives. Things happen. Build a bridge and get over it.

Glad I did. Because I had never seen a "perfect bride" before. I'd seen the drunken bride, the angry bride, the nervous bride, the bridezilla, the bride who couldn't stop crying, the bored bride, even the blushing bride (and I'm pretty sure I've watched at least half of "The Princess Bride").

But not the perfect bride.

Not until Saturday.

I remember walking into the venue - a country club called "The Ibis" and thinking "oh God. She's going to do it. Oh God." It was beautiful. People were smiling. I was sweating damn bullets.

Because I knew that if there was ANY inclination my kindred was unhappy, or being rushed into something she didn't want, or any fucking negative thing, I was going to object - LOUDLY.

It was sweet the way the ceremony started off fumble-y. I smiled as I watched the groom and his merry men walk to the front. I let it slip a little as the bridesmaids walked by. I kept a close eye on the ring-bearer for any shenanigans...

And then I saw her. And my heart just split wide open. And, to make sure, I checked out the groom's reaction - and he looked like he was witnessing a miracle and someone needed to pinch him.

That sealed it for him. And for me. In my heart of hearts I said "welcome to the family" to him. And then I watched her walk up the aisle.

They say that pregnant women have a glow. I've seen it on rare occasions. Mostly they look irritated, bloated, uncomfortable, and occasionally hungry. Which puts me in "soothe, feed, and tell them they're beautiful" mode. But I have NEVER seen a bride practically float down the aisle, beaming beauty and love and overall wonderfulness. She glowed in perfect bliss. I cursed myself for not having stuck tissues in my bra.

So - the thing that I was most happy for on that day? Lauren. Because even 18 years into a friendship punctuated by years of distance and school and life experiences we didn't get a chance to share together, when I heard her squeal my name and rush over to me, all I could think was "thank you God, happy endings do exist..."

And resolved then and there to get me one of those.

Love you.

-Asha

Black Horse and a Cherry Tree

The beauty of today came from an unexpected place at an unexpected time.

Last night I had nine very separate dreams. I tend to pay attention, as I sometimes have dreams that lead to very crazy deja vu experiences. The fact that I had nine told me that: I have way too much in my mind; there is a message - or a bunch of messages my subconscious is trying to make sure I get; and that I might need to invest in some sleeping pills. Lol. For anyone who knows about my epic dreams, they can take place over days and years, are quite active, and I can wake up exhausted.

Which I definitely was when I awoke. And cranky. And wishing I had a hangover to blame it on.

It didn't get better when I got to work. In fact, my stress might have been amplified by the situation I found myself in. Being confronted with the reality that what I hoped would eventually lead to a permanent, full time position was, in actuality, a very situation I was hinging myself upon.

I got depressed. Not uncommon for me, but it definitely wasn't the mood I wanted to be in. I got home, fielded some phone calls, made some ramen noodles and looked very sadly at my dog Cupcake. "Shit," I told her, "guess I won't be able to find that 'thing' for the blog today."

So I booted up my computer, opened my hotmail, and found the thing :).

Starting next month, I will be writing (and getting paid for writing) a blog and column for a magazine. Me. A writer. Finally. Holy crap.

Under a pen name of course - and if you want the blog and/or name of the magazine you will have to email me and prove you are over 18...lol.

I am so very excited. Wish me luck lovelies!

Yours,

-Asha

Three Times a Lady

In an effort to continue learning about myself and applying what I learn in my every day, I've taken to writing down observations and reflecting on them when I have the time...

Something that I've learned: in playing the role of a "lady" I have, at times, allowed myself to be run right over. Fuck. Lol.

There are times when you have to move yourself right out of the "lady" box, into the "grown-ass woman" box. And heaven help anyone that made you rise up and secure yourself there.

I am more comfortable with the role now than I was when younger. I chalk that up to age and experience. And the fact that I surround myself with "grown-ass women" on a daily basis. Ladies are nice, but sometimes you need to get real (thinking suddenly of Dave Chappelle's "When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong"), and it helps to have a group of just as real women around you to back you up with some "Yeah girl"s and some "He ain't shit"s.

Raise your hand if you know what I'm talking about ;).

So, on this day, I want to send a shout out to those women. You know who you are. You hold me up , occasionally, hold me back (before I take my earrings off), and hold it down when I'm going to pieces for one reason or another.

I absolutely adore you. You are better than the "lady". You're three times that. <3

Bless up!

-Asha

2 Legit 2 Quit

First - after you stop giggling at today's title - let me just say that there is method in my mad randomness...

I wanted to try each day and find something wonderful about every day this month, as a way to remind myself that life, even when shitty, is worth living. It was hard today. Got knocked back a bit by a new adventure. Tried to start a new one - with horrible results...

But I did have fun today.

Today I remembered that there are things I am good at. Doesn't seem like a big and shiny thing, but when you pair that with my life the past three months (downs, bigger downs, and holy shit - you're still alive and kicking???), remembering positive things about yourself serves two functions.

You remember that, despite the fact you can't seem to catch a break - you're a smart cookie. You can think on your feet. You can put people at ease and pull others out of their shells. And people react to your smile. Use that. Not everyone has that. So be grateful you do. Also - it gives you a bit of your power back. When you move between begging for help and holding onto your pride, you start feeling that you have no control of your life. You feel helpless, powerless...but you aren't. And the only person who can remind you of that and make you believe it - is you.

Today I am grateful to be still standing. Smoldering, dirty, definitely beat up and bloody - but still fucking standing...

In a zombie apocalypse movie, that would pretty much make me the hero, wouldn't it?

<3

-Asha

One and Only

This is my favorite month of the year. So, in celebration of it, I will write a mini-blog everyday, diary style, to remind myself of the beauty in my life, the bullets I've dodged, the arrows that have touched my heart, the memories I've made and will make, the beautiful people - old and new - in my life, and as a way to get back to me. Too many of my posts have been about others and my attempts to love and be loved by them.

Well, it's about time I remember why I should be number one in my life - after God of course. Because I am damn lovable - regardless of what I've been told.

This morning I met someone wonderful. A quick text followed by many, many more, solidified that I had met an awesome person. Sometimes it pays to try something old in a new way. And somewhere, along the way, I began to feel pretty wonderful myself - about myself.

Am I perfect? Hardly. Am I scared - a little. Am I worth this pushing out into the universe to finally find out what I could accomplish by letting people see beyond the outside stuff.

So here's to me.

<3

-Asha

Song by Adele