Love and Loss

So, ages ago I was at a dinner party…let’s just call it a daunting dinner party. There were a total of 18 people, only one of whom I knew, and as I would not be allowed to sit next to him at dinner (Did I mention it was a posh daunting dinner party?), I was a wee bit fucked.

What other aspects made it daunting? Loads o’ famous directors, actors, artists, writers, bgillionaires and infamous quirks.

And me. And if just being "me" (the pixie-faced pinhead) wasn't bad enough, I was the soul American (and that ain't no typoo).

Mommy, make the lambs stop screaming.

I donned my scuba mask, snorkel and flippers (aka, got sozzled) and dove right in. Since people tend to like me (I have noooooo idea why) I supposedly did swimmingly but I credit the non-sinking of my soul to my favorite author.* She was there and she was my elfin waterwings.

She has been my elfin angel for fifteen plus years. She has written two paragraphs about kissing so intelligently erotic they are part of my seduction script. Oh…shut up. We all have a script and you know it.

She wrote the most heartbreaking opening line to a book EVER. “Why is the measure of love loss?”

She wrote my favorite book, a book so beautiful that whenever I see it, I buy it, read it again and gift to someone I love.

When I informed her of this she stated, “Well, I guess we’ll let you stay.”

And she made the stay oh-so-worthwhile.

Months later, around the anniversary of my dad’s death, I discovered her blog. I hadn’t known when we met that she had recently lost her dad. I sent her a message in a bottle regarding that particular kind of love and loss. I sent the e to her across the sea, but certainly never expected a response…we had spent at best (and it was the best) an hour and a half talking.

Last Friday, I received (and I excerpt because some things just can’t be shared)…

“You are intelligent and full of feeling and those things together (not one or the other) make it hard to avoid either the pain or the pleasure or the curious closeness they share. X”

Oh my...she wrote me my own blessed personal flotation device. How ever did I get this lucky?

*If you slog into my blog you can most certainly ascertain the identity of this delightful creature..but I ain't sayin' nothin'.