To all the men who never claimed me, Thank you.

To all the men who never matched me, Thank you.

To all the men who couldn't keep me, Thank you.

To all the men who left me, Thank you.

To all the men who never loved me, Thank you.

To Each and Every One of You, I Thank You.

I send you blessings.

For you have given me the greatest love of of all time.

If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have kept searching. I wouldn't have kept looking.

I wouldn't have kept going to the next edge. 

I wouldn't have kept jumping.

I wouldn't have found what I was looking for.

The one that I have been seeking since I learned to seek something outside of myself. 

All of you, your collective loving, your integrated presence across my life's timeline, and your inevitable leaving, has changed me, molded me, burned me, healed me.

You are imprinted on my soul.

I keep searching, looking, seeking, going. 

The world spins and I try to out spin it.

The smaller the world gets, the faster I want to see it all, feel it all. 

BE it all.

Make it ALL, ONE.

To the one who said, I will never love you the way you need to be loved. And left.

Thank you.

The tragedy of my 30s has become the miracle of my existence.

"Mutiny!" Cried my breaking heart!

Insurgence, Riot, Revolt.

Who's revolution is this anyway? 

And Who is listening to this evolutionary battle cry? and Who is calling for it?

The ONE.

Internal rebellion, radical external alteration.

A complete metamorphosis.

A total SHAKEDOWN.

A total BREAKDOWN.

Dedicated to The ONE.

To the one who introduced me to sushi and jade.

Thank you.

To the one who introduced me to surfing, and then left me on the beach alone, to contemplate my own bravery. 

Thank you.

To the one who introduced me to Dubstep and Flux Pavillion with speakers that wanted to crush my eardrums, and teased me in close spaces that made me wet with tears of laughter and wanting, You.

Thank you.

"Leave the past behind.

Just walk away.

When it's over and my heartbreaks, and the cracks begin to show.

Just walk away."

To the one who welcomed me home to orgasm after years of of broken hearted and loveless sex, and washed away the absence of trust and held me in loving presence.

Thank you.

You helped bring me back to myself and I wanted to come.

I heard, a voice within me say clearly and loudly, over all the other ugly voices.

"I am not damaged goods."

Yes. Yesssss. OH MY GOD. YES.

Thank you.

To the ones who never even tried to make me quiver and cum, wow, what you missed.

To the one who could not look me in the eye, as you said goodbye.

Thank you.

To the one who picked me up, brought me home, and dared to make me happy. 

Thank you.

To the one who grabbed my hips and drew me into your mouth and I recalled what it felt like to be wanted. 

Thank you.

To my superhero in your Spiderman underwear, I've got the sun in my heart now. 

Thank you.

To the one who laid beside me and played Claude Debussy, "Claire de lune", as I closed my eyes, wanting more...

I wished the ticking of time would stop on each piano note and wistfully I wanted that I could stay alive in those moments forever.

I remembered, then, that feeling alive, is different than writing about feeling alive.

Thank you.

For every time, the words

"You are not the ONE."

Have been spoken.

To Me.

Have been written.

By Me.

My trembling heart, has grown wings.

And I have taken flight on the trade winds of sobbing storms.

My swelling expanse grew each time, a greater wingspan, and each time I took a soaring leap at the edge of the unknown

I have taught myself not to clutch or cling on the way down, knowing that the Coriolis effect will hoist my weeping soul, in the perfection of physics and that unwavering deflection reaction.

The wind in the valley will catch the beat of my wings, spinning me in new directions.

No longer the downward spiral, but the ascension of emotion, spirit, body, and soul.

Integration. Oh, Beautiful Science.

The doldrums are harder to predict.

Sometimes I am stuck, my sails depleted, for many months waiting for a proper wind.

I am struck down by the irregular storms and broken by random and periodic emotional squalls.

They clear, and leave a vast empty silence in their wake.

Then the longing begins to pick up again... and I am propelled forward, by some force greater than myself.

To all the Men, who never loved me, what can I say?

You are not the ONE.

I was. I am.

Again and again and again. I am coming. I am home. 

For all these things, I am, grateful.

For true happiness is having wings and my greatest victory has been through my own defeat.

Dedicated to THE ONE.