I am not your man

Would be, in half a heartbeat, systole or diastole, wouldn't matter. Lub or dub, fuckin' bring it. Tomorrow, still. 

But AM not. 

I have no idea why simple re-recordings of things, sayings, repeated affirmations, can have such a salutary effect, but, when the time is right, they definitely can. I realized somewhere after Minnesota on this trip that I had been habitually reacting as if I belonged to someone, and, painfully, as if that person belonged or at least should belong to me. I was reacting like someone spoken for. I had no conscious idea I was reacting that way, in the least. In fact, if anyone had asked me prior to when it dawned on me I would have denied it roundly, flatly, crookedly and spherically or all the other ways one can deny whatever the fuck. 

Yet, when I realized it, it was plain as day. 

So I decided to start saying, rather fiercely, in my mind (and occasionally out loud): I AM NOT YOUR MAN. I might, for example, flash on some exquisite memory and instyead of tumbling and melting I'd brace up and say I AM NOT YOUR MAN. 

It started to really help a lot. I am not spoken for, I belong to no one, I am no one's this or that, I am free, free, free. This is the reality of the situation, quite without regard to my aching heart or yearning feelings. The plain fact is, I ain't nobody's. I AM NOT YOUR MAN. 

Would I love to be, well shit yes. That's obvious. But it is not on offer. And so it fucking is not. I am not. Yours. Not. Your man. Not. 

I began to play with it a lot for several days—predictably, this also followed on  the dream "It's time," that I posted a couple days ago. What does it mean to not be anyone's man? It's a wild and wonderful way to look at things. I need or have to answer to no one whatsoever. Shit, I don't even have a cat, or a dog, or a fish. I clearly have been terrified of being 100% free, reminding me of the David Byrne song, The Moment of Conception:

I was born without a conscience
Full of freedom, full of nonsense
From the mountains to the beaches
Eat the apples, steal the peaches
Will you be this wild child's lady?
Will you carry me to safety?
Lock me up & take me home
I don't wanna be free
Goin' crazy - on my own

It's not where I wanna be




One of the songs that resonated powerfully for me when I was this person's man (to whatever degree I ever was, given the deal) was Leonard Cohen's "I'm Your Man." So it seemed to funny to imagine an entirely different song. 

I am not your man. 

A weird side effect of this mantra was that I uncovered a lot of entanglements and attachments that went way, way back. I caught a glimpse of remnants of still being the man of many women. Stuck here, hooked there, obligated here, mired there. I started to go through every romantic and sexual relationship I have ever had and realized I had bailed on a great many, or they had bailed on me, and real, convincing, strong-boundaried closure was *still lacking* in some cases. So I AM NOT YOURS  became about my entire romantic and sexual history, not just the heartbreak. I reconstructed my number (51, if anyone is asking) and realized there is still a lot of unfinished business in a lot of those. But I am not your man is helping, is resolving, setting boundaries where I have been reluctant to do so in the past. Or where I thought I did. It's especially clear to me that simply breaking up with someone, and even forgetting them, absolutely does not constitute closure. 

One thing I am going to ask and try to ascertain intuitively if I ever get attached again: is the woman done with her exes? Not- are they done with her. Or does she hate them or talk shit about them, actually a sign of NOT being done. But is she free, free, free. Is she NOT ANYONE'S WOMAN. Because that is what I want: I want a free woman who does not belong to any goddamned anyone. And I think a lot of "single" people are not free. And of course, a lot of married or involved people are also not free, although de facto it may be that people in couples are more free than single people in some ways. 

Anyway, I am beginning to revel in the possibilities of not owing any goddamned anyone any goddamned anything. I am so deeply attached to belonging to a woman. I like being someone's man. But all of the open ended mess of my long sexual and romantic life has also meant that I have not really been both feet in, all in, all for one other woman, really, at any time since The Lovejoy, and the most recent. Why the most recent, I bet, is only because I had already begun to get final closure on all the shit from decades of fucking shit. so to speak. Bad timing, to not protect myself. But it was as I have already said a gazillion times, what it was. 

Leaving this I AM NOT YOUR MAN meditation with Patti Smith.

I was a wing in heaven blue
soared over the ocean
soared over Spain
and I was free
needed nobody
it was beautiful
it was beautiful
I was a pawn
didn't have a move
didn't have nowhere
that I could go
but I was free
I needed nobody
it was beautiful
it was beautiful
and if there's one thing
could do for you
you'd be a wing
in heaven blue
I was a vision
in another eye
and they saw nothing
no future at all
yet I was free
I needed nobody
it was beautiful
it was beautiful
and if there's one thing
could do for you
you'd be a wing
in heaven blue
and if there's one thing
could do for you
you'd be a wing
in heaven blue
and if there's one thing
could do for you
you'd be a wing

in heaven blue