Coyote Trickster / French Press / Carolyn

I will write more on this female and this relationship, because its something great and because it changes so quickly. I've written about meeting this woman and I've written about seeing her for the first time since we lost contact. I've written about our first night together. I've written about the night we decided to commit to each other, and I've written about a day I had where I accepted the loss of her as a girlfriend which didn't happen but the thought of which inspired me in a way I had not been inspired before. I've published pictures of some of the first weekends we enjoyed together and a meal that she prepared for me. And I've published pictures of her beast, or perhaps the manifestation of her beast within. I've questioned the act of pairing, because I presume I have a choice in this matter.

This is what I have been training for. This is why I have made the mistakes I have made. This is why I have suffered and this is why I have found pleasure in freedom and fitness and friendship. This is why I have a job, and this is why I get in trouble. If I didn't do the things I have done, this would not make sense and this would not work.

If I go back four weeks, to May 28, 2010, another Friday, a day with family (arbitrarily conjoined misfits) and a drive. A budding romance and the unknown. I have the hots for this woman like spine tingles. A date proposed on this Friday. You and I, we should do a thing. It was agreed that You and I (I and Her) should do a thing. No way to know what the thing would be. I'm offered Tuesday or Wednesday, and I take both. In fact, I take them all.

This first date, will quickly say, then will end this rediculous post, was great. I run my balls off with Maximin. I have a date at 7, but I do an extra 2.5 miles of running anyway, fast and in the heat. I get home and I'm late. I call her and can't grip the phone due to sweat. Then I realize I actually want to get somewhere with this woman, so I need to do the hygiene right. Cut the face with the razor. Take some drugs and a shot of whiskey. I see the people enjoying the patio as pairs as I drive to her place. Picking her up was a trick, remember? She's having a glass of wine on her porch. I park, and I sit on the porch with her. It takes us a while to leave, and when we arrive at the spot, it takes us a while to order. Our souls need some time to get to know each other and the fucking waitress is trying to spoil that. Other couples might need the distraction; we do not.