My manager has told me, Sometimes, I don't know how to respond to you.
I was showing pictures of my dates to one of my best friends and she laughed, I can't believe what a Samantha you've become.
I think I've always kind of instilled a strong reaction but it seems to be extra potent as of late.
I don't really know what that means but I'm gonna take it as a compliment.
I offended someone.
No, rather, THEE someone, as in that one person in the history of your life that you desperately want to give you a second chance.
You know, the one that got away.
The right guy at the wrong time.
The cheese to my macaroni.
The fucking love god to my YES I DONT CARE WHEN OR WHERE JUST FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TAKE ME NOW.
That guy.
I feel like old school me would have been extremely apologetic or even tried to eradicate the one action with a reaction.
But I only felt one thing: Unwilling to waiver.
Relationships are built with compromise.
Communication is vital or it will collapse.
And for an artist, creative expression is required or their soul will grow dark.
I don't really know how to explain how I'm feeling except to say it's one of those rare moments where I've genuinely surprised myself.
I spoke my truth and why I'd done what I had.
And instead of longing for or even expecting a response I simply resolved in my heart that this wasn't what I wanted.
Not like this.
Not joined with someone who wanted a blurred out censor strip above my lips and a passion held back so as not to overwhelm.
I am overwhelming.
Don't you get it?
Men aren't drawn to me because I'm the safe option.
I'm not the girl you meet and immediately think, I should bring her over to have dinner with my parents.
Men aren't intrigued by my demure nature or my dulcid tone.
The drinks I like have a masculine tone.
And my gumption could knock a priest off his barstool.
I'm intense.
I'm a lot.
And contrary to his resistance he told me once he actually admired how transparent I was.
How I was "too honest."
Because no adjective could be appropriately Resafied if it wasn't first prefaced with the word too.
Maybe the thing with getting everything you've ever wanted is you don't really believe it could last.
Because life doesn't satisfy the deepest cries of your heart forever.
And maybe that kind of intense bliss is only given in small doses.
Because maybe that kind of consuming joy would be blinding.
Who the fuck knows.
What I do know, is that my deepest longing, my perfect fantasy, the scene I'd played over and over in my dreams happened.
And nothing could ever take that away from me.
And I kind of didn't care that in the light of day his behavior darted away in familiar disappointment.
Because some things don't change.
And some people will only ever see you as Too Much.
And I wanted a lover who saw me as Too Amazing.
I watched a pair of lovers sit across from me.
And the way they fed off each other's energy was intoxicating.
She ate with such ferocity, like it was the last meal of her lifetime and sauce was smeared all over her mouth and cheeks and even dripped into her cleavage.
And he, he didn't wince or reach for a napkin, or ask her to hold back the intensity of her fucking food passion, he grabbed her face and he sucked the sauce right off her mouth.
And they only seemed to grow more impassioned with one another as the absurdity of their eating continued.
And as I sat there, taking in the moment they'd never witness because they were immersed in it, I thought, That, that is what I want. A lover who is so turned on by the weird, crazy shit that makes me so bizarrely Reese.
I love being too much.
I love that the response from my manager is he doesn't know how to react to me.
I love that I've evolved as a carnal, voracious woman that my best friend has recast me in my role on Sex and the City.
I love that I know my insane intensity is actually the core of the reason we found our way back into each other's arms because he secretly fucking loves it.
Because how could he not?
And maybe there will be moments I save my trumpet blaring for other eves and other sailors.
And maybe when I've been accepted for the light that's reflecting from within my vibrant heart it would be impossible for us to so violently misunderstand each other because with intimacy comes trust and understanding.
And there isn't room for foregone conclusions.
Maybe in my next fantasy, the lover doesn't run, but simply wraps his arms around me.
And smiles as the sheer force of our passion devours our minds.
And we let it.
Because we cannot bear another day of the monotony of living without it.
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