I really had my shoulders back and a song in my heart after parting ways with Liesl. The sugar buzz does wear off though, and I am kicking myself a little just now. I wish I that I scratched out my URL for her. I would like her to be able to read up on “us”, follow a few links, and continue to feed her healthy curiosity.
I wish that I had taken her by the elbow, browsed some of the clothing racks or sat at a Starbucks with her for a sociable while. I did have more than a few minutes of idle time that I ended up spending solo, chatting with sales assistants, futzing with my iPhone and wondering how women with nails do any sort of text messaging. The company would have been nice.
And I wish that I had thanked her for her great, unexpected question: Why? Liesl reminded me that I have something to think on. I still do not have a good answer to “why”. Knowing it would not change anything in a material way, I realize that. But perhaps knowing “why” would be help me pick some other existential locks.
I am not too prone to regrets though. Moving forward now, dear friends.
I have found with my fairly newfound freedom to explore Cross Dressing, that the voltage that runs through me is diminished, a little, each time out. A part of me wants to experiment with places and possibilities designed to heighten the current, to bring the experience back up to those super-charged moments of the not so distant past. To expose more. This part is not the dominant part. These are the sounds of my little inner voice.
The clearer and more compelling inner voice has other desires. Principally a desire to seek the source of this river. My explorations are now tilting away from the visceral, and driving more into the cerebral. The surface fetish is losing ground to interior feelings. As I find myself better able to integrate with the world en femme, my hunger to dress is somewhat tamed.
I am willing to concede that I might be getting early signals of my natural summer Drabbatical*. Very early signals. But something happened on Tuesday of this week that tweaked my attention a little. As I watched the dogs romp in the backyard with coffee in hand, temperatures in the 50’s and skies blue, for what felt like the first time in 6 months or so, I thought about golf. And then, dammit, I golfed (shot a 92 which is for me, an outstanding season opener). And I am looking forward to more.
I played piano for over an hour that same night. Beatles songbook stuff. First time I have really sat at the bench for a long time.
Mrs. Bellejambes and myself decided as well to put the TV (television dear friends, strange how I feel the need to be very specific on that acronym here) off limits two nights weekly, so that we can do more active, less inert things together.
These are all good things, things that will soak up time and attention, and some of that time and attention will come from “Petra”. Some time, some attention, not all of it.
There are more than a couple of outings left before the weather turns against me. I am going to design them in such a way that I might meet another Liesl, perhaps even a Rolf, or in my fondest dreams, The Baroness (the exquisite Eleanor Parker, pictured above, porcelain perfection at the surface, cracked, sad and resigned just beneath). Perhaps, I will be a little closer to understanding the riddle, nicely expressed in the Oscar Hammerstein lyric…
Perhaps I had a miserable youth
But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past
There must have been a moment of truth
Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good.
* to better appreciate the concept of Drabbatical, please visit this old post.