“When fighting with monsters, take care that in the process you do not also become one.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche
Hi Paige, it has been a long time. You may not remember me, but I will never forget you.
I was in college when we met at a popular downtown pub. You were a few years older than me and beginning life in the real world with work and your own place. We hit it off and had a fun night dancing and drinking. Before we knew it, the lights came on signaling closing time. I was sweet talking you and doing my best (at the time) to get you to take me home with you.
Our connection that night was immediate and powerful, and I could see in your eyes that you were close to saying yes but struggling with moving too quickly. I wanted to make “yes” easy on you and, despite my youth, I was a smooth talker. Still, you resisted and I backed off. Sometimes a tactical retreat can result in strategic victory. I at least needed a place to crash since I had been drinking was too far from home to drive. I asked if I could at sleep on your couch? If not, I would sleep in my car as I had done many times. We were deep in winter’s grip and this worried you. (For the record, my car was always well-stocked with blankets, food, and water).
You agreed to bring me back to your apartment after making me promise I would “behave” and stay on the couch. I quickly agreed. We got to your place and started making out right away. I was trying to free you from your clothes but you still resisted. You said it was late and we should get some sleep. Oh, the games we played as young adults…sex never seemed straightforward back then.
I complained teasingly, “You aren’t really going to make me sleep on the couch are you? Let me sleep in your bed and I promise to behave.” It was all a comfortable, flirty dance that gave you every chance to say no or to accept what you really wanted in small steps. You agreed but said, “no touching, just sleeping”. (Right. Got it.) Once in the bedroom, you turned down the lights and left to change. Since I don’t wear underwear (I need to be free), I undressed and jumped in the bed with nothing on. Did I think that once you slipped under the sheets and felt the fleshy heat and power of my hard cock against you that you would fuck me? Yes.
It wouldn’t take that extra bit of temptation though. After an extended absence, you returned from the bathroom wearing some very sexy lingerie. You were a breathtaking sight to behold as you stepped out of the bathroom basked in the warm, soft light of the room…your bedroom so softly and femininely appointed. You seemed so bashful and innocent as you stood there awaiting my reaction. The games were over. An evasive young girl left the room and a woman returned. You were a vision of beauty and I told you so as I motioned for you to come join me in your bed.
Paige, as the years have passed I still have vivid memories of how surprisingly intimate and sensual the love making was between us. The groove and tempo of our bodies flowing in perfect unison lit corners of my soul that had been cloaked in darkness. We were good…really, REALLY good. To be perfectly transparent, it was too good and something approaching a divine experience within me. It was like I had stumbled across my soul mate. You felt the same as you commented on how perfectly our lips and bodies molded together…like we were made for one another. You were so wet and it drove me wild feeling you release multiple times and shaking with bliss in my arms. Our kissing and eye contact were magical and dreamy…our bodies were so wet and slippery as we fucked deeply and deep into the night. I still remember the intensity of my release deep inside you.
In our afterglow, I knew I was in trouble. I remember thinking, “No way, not now.” I still had a mission to fulfill. Much of this mission is described in Leanna – Separate Ways. And, though I never told you, I was still fighting some demons in my life due to my mother’s suicide (discussed in Shadows).
Looking back I can see that I became somewhat obsessed with the affection of women and it nearly defined my very existence. I was driven by what women found attractive. My education was based on getting a better job and being financially viable to women as a provider and lover. Money would not be a disqualifier. My fitness was based on developing my body into what women found desirable. Ditto for my clothing, grooming, and mannerisms. Seduction had become my craft. Looking back at this period in my life, it isn’t a stretch to say that I wanted to fuck every woman on the planet…twice. I desperately needed to be validated by women as if to prove to my mother that I am and should have been worth living for.
Despite my panicked feeling in our afterglow, we enjoyed an intimate and cozy winter morning together. That afternoon, you took me to my car where we exchanged goodbyes and phone numbers. We had another evening together soon after which was even better than the first because we weren’t plastered with alcohol and already felt a strong connection. I was falling for you. A random memory of that second night was the Squeeze CD I brought and left with you. I planned to get it back next time. Unfortunately for me, I never called you back for a third date. I still have that empty CD case. It’s a painful reminder of what I lost…and I’m not talking about the CD.
I ran into you a few months later at the same pub where we first met. Just looking at you made my heart race and I immediately regretted not calling you. I wanted to make it right…I think. I was making progress on gaining your forgiveness and, potentially, another magical night. Then your pain-in-the-ass friend started pulling you away from me. You wanted to stay and hear what I had to say. I remember walking outside the pub as you and your girlfriend were leaving. I was talking to you while simultaneously fighting off arguments from your crazy friend who was busting my balls and telling you to ignore me. Obviously, she had been consoling you in my absence and was, in fact, a good friend. She was right, I didn’t deserve a second chance.
As I tried to spin my yarn about why you should take me home again, I said something wrong. I have no idea what it was, but your whole face changed instantly and time seemed to pass in slow motion. You became very upset and told me I hurt you and that this was not some game. You said you had felt something really special, you trusted me, and was excited about seeing me again. You pounded me in the chest, “Damn it, Michael! I cried every night for you! I thought you were different!” You gathered yourself and stared deep into my eyes as tears pooled and ran down your beautiful cheeks. Then, without another word, you turned away and vanished into the cold winter night…gone forever.
Paige, you saw beyond my mask. Like no one before, you felt my sensual inner nature and connected to the real me. You saw a part of me that I seemed to hate or fear and repressed. My life experience to this point had taught me that girls don’t like sweet boys. I had been sweet boy and one girl after another broke my heart. My own mother left me. The soul of a woman seemed to be a dark place to me. What women wanted were the bad boys and assholes that would play hard to get and treat them terribly. This made the girls fight even harder to win their affection. Girls wanted to be the one to tame the bad boy.
They didn’t want a man whose soul was so gentle that he would fail a science project (as I had) for refusing to kill a butterfly as part of my insect collection. In fact, I figured it was this bad-boy persona that drew you to me. In my eyes, you were another woman bent on snuffing out the final flickers of my sensual, loving spirit and I didn’t want to give you that chance…to hurt me and abandon me.
Regardless of my convoluted reasoning, I was wrong in how I handled my fear. For all I know, your father or mother could have abandoned you. Then, what I did may have made your fear even deeper. You could’ve had a string of men that hurt you when you revealed your sensual spirit. I was just the next one in line to hurt you. I was selfish and acted solely on what I needed without regard to your feelings or the potential emotional damage I inflicted on you…and others. Paige, it is far too late now but I am genuinely sorry.
To this day, crisp, cold, star-filled nights remind me of that empty moment. I can see you in your black wool winter coat and scarf with gorgeous hair blowing in the wind. I will never forget the last time your glassy, tear-filled eyes looked into my soul. You were a sensual woman in bloom. I couldn’t see it then but I see and know that spiritual glow now. You deserved so much more from me.
Paige, while it probably doesn’t matter to you now, you unleashed a spiritual awakening within me and forever altered how I feel about and have guarded the hearts of women. I hope life has been kind to you and you have been able to share your beautiful gift with others.
My time with Paige was brief, but it was a powerful inflection point. That final vision of Paige has always pained me. I had almost demonized women and approached them with a warrior-like mentality. I fought my darkness and, in the process, I was becoming what I fought. This was a pivot point and I would aspire to become a source of light and become a better man.
Today, instead of wanting to fuck the world, I want to share light where there is darkness. More than empty, soulless fucking, I want to have a sensual, thoughtful, and erotic connection to the world…to see and appreciate beauty in all its forms.
If this is your first visit, welcome to The Dionysian Experience.