belfast love (lust)

the sun is bellowing through the windows and blinds of the library today here in Belfast. this is the type of day that in its optimism, makes you feel thankful to be alive. today is one of those days(what a grand statement considering Belfast's usual broadcast) that you could imagine sitting by the riverbank of the lagan, dipping your toes in whilst the nearby willow branches tickle your back when the wind blows. you can complete this idyllic picture with the smooth presence of a Mr. Darcy type, gently leaning back against the trunk of an ancient, the sole of his expensive shoe placed flat upon the bottom of the steady trunk, near where the roots weave their way into the soil.

the roots could be a metaphor for your love, they twist together elegantly, exposing themselves to passers by but mostly their work and purpose is buried into the cool moist earth. they may dance and slither, erotically curved in their paths in daylight above ground; but the real substance lies unseen, hidden.

i could not fall asleep for a long time, i discovered a fact yesterday that bothers me very much. it snaked its way into my meditations before sleep and insisted on passing into whatever i dreamt about. i know this, as when i woke this morning, i had managed to smash the glass on my bedside table. the water had dribbled all over the sheets.

i undertook a little bit of research online yesterday evening (all in the name of love might I add) and I came upon the fact that somebody I fell for not so long ago has very shady connections here in northern Ireland. I despise using the word shady as it implies that everybody sees him as a dodgy character. to the contrary-he is a hero in many parts of Belfast and possibly elsewhere in the world.

when i first met him i was struck by his arrogance. I intensely disliked it, but went with it as dislike can often turn into extreme passion for women and men. I was astounded by it, but also secretly delighted. i argued with a male friend about arrogance lately, with this particular person in mind. my trail of thought or rather line of argument centred around the premise, it is the the arrogance that women love-rather the associations with it. by this i meant career success, money, confidence, sexual prowess, and masculinity. i do not mean that these were the things i liked in him, rather, i liked what possibly hinted underneath- a vulnerability and a need to impress.

he was an extremely passionate kisser, but was well aware of this particular charisma. i knew this yet enjoyed how those kisses leapt out for me. i had not been kissed like that in a long time. we did not go to bed together, and I did not see him again.

we talked many things together, among them, family. I imagined them-so proud knowing they have played a substantial role in this province. they will be written about in years to come and children will read the narratives of history and wonder who these people were. they may wonder who loved them, or who they loved. i would love a man like him, but in the end, it would be a fruitless love. we know only different things, and i do not know what it is to love a country so fiercely.