It’s not that my thoughts are usually scattered.  I am generally a very focused person.  I like to think that I control my thoughts.  Sometimes topics are submerged deep and then they float or suddenly pop to the surface.  They must have a need for air like small grey beluga whales.

I am finding people offer me different and shiny pieces.  I like parts of them.  I like a set of big beautiful green eyes just like I am finding myself getting lost in a set of soft brown ones. 
Hands are basically the same.  Some fingers are longer than others or the palms bigger or smaller. Noses and ears have different shapes.  Some are tall.  Some are short.  They all are smart, witty, and so very charming.

All of these choices.  How does one choose.  Why should I have to?  

I am thinking I don’t want to chose anything or anyone.  I just want to float and see where my inner tube takes me.  I like this river.  It is warm in spots and cooler in others.  I am free to drift.  I like the pull of this current.  I love spending time with those I care about and adore.

Some days I miss safe and familiar.  Some days I crave adventure and variety. 
Amy and I discuss the taking from a this or a that.  Building our own man.  Giving him everything we would want. 

I know myself so well that I know after he was built I would want to knock him down.  I would have to reconstruct him.  I would change.  He wouldn’t be what was needed.   If he wants too much of my attention I find myself running away.  If he withholds his attention I am trying to pull it from him.

He tells me I need too much of his attention.  He cannot give it to me.  He doesn’t have it in him. I deserve more.  I know what he is doing.

I am in that very same spot. 

I think he and I are exactly the same.  We are not the same.

He finds joy in a conquest.  I find joy in safe company.

He says all his other women text, call and come to his home but I will only call him back months at a time.  He feels very comfortable with me.  We should spend the night together.

He says that I am intriguing.  That I am deep and have many layers.  He respects that.  We should go to a movie, put the arm rest up, and after go to a quaint little pub.

He says he understands me.


I will think of them as pieces.  They float up and they will float away.  I am what they want for a moment.  Then I am not what they thought I should be.  They don’t know what they want or they are changing their minds.  They want to get close— just not that close.

I think of tinker toys, potato heads and legos.  The solving of a rubrics cube. 
Once the colors match or the thing is constructed there is no more adventure. 
Men, like children, discarding a boring old toy.

Familiar and safe becomes dull and non interesting.   

So I think about a rediscovery and learning how to ride a motorcycle.