The Dream

“…The mate for the wildish woman is the one who has a soulful tenacity and endurance, one who can send his own instinctual nature to peek under the tent of a woman’s sould-life and comprehend what he sees and hears there. The good match is the man who keeps returning to try to understand, who does not let himself be deterred by the sideshows on the road…”

~ “Women Who Run With the Wolves” by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I dreamt about ‘my Manawee’ last night… and I wonder… I don’t wonder why because I know the reason why, I simply wonder if it’s possible to love a person for a long period of time without actually realising it until you’re reminded of this person. I don’t wonder because I’ve been aware he has often been on my mind on and off ever since. Pain has the tendency to diminish over time even when you were hurting. At times that’s a good thing, occasionally it could become something unrealistic if you lose sight and fail to take into account why you were hurt to begin with.

I had to let go which was the toughest thing I ever had to do. I had to let go because I couldn’t carry the weight of two lives gone wrong. I had to fix mine first. Last night I was looking for something on my NAS and was wondering where I kept movies and tunes he’d sent me over time. I’m pretty sure I have them still as I’d never throw out any of the things he’d sent me. I just realized they weren’t on the NAS as I bought it about two years ago.

But there were some other things I had a look at: pictures. The first one that I opened was him. My heart skipped a beat as I hadn’t seen that face in a long long time. I was overwhelmed with feelings. It came as a surprise, but then again it didn’t. It was just a confirmation of something that I’ve known all along. And realizing this brings back lots and lots of emotions, longings and feelings. So… there it is! The kind of stuff that dreams are made off.

But I haven’t got a clue what I’m supposed to do about/with it… Although the dream(s) were real and the way I felt when I woke up was pretty real too…

Strong Hands

There’s something about a man with strong hands and fingers that show muscles and veins. To me a man needs to have strong hands, there must be signs of hard work. Women with strong hands are equally sexy to me although it’s a different kind of sexiness. I can be extremely put off by a guy with seemingly ‘soft’ hands, and the look and feel of those of a woman. It just doesn’t seem right, a man needs to have large muscular hands and preferably muscular arms too, period. What makes it worse is feminine hands in combination with jewellery: cringing.

I have no clue what caused this engrained ‘prejudice’ (or preference if you like) but I do remember something from my past that might have to do with it. When I was a little girl my dad used to work different shifts, sometimes he would come home late and I’d be in bed already, other times he would be home early. Those particular times he would count all the change which he kept in a large purse that he carried with him all day. He’d put it all on the table and make small stacks of coins which he counted after arranging them. It was almost like his daily Zen ritual.

When he was done counting he’d put the money back in the purse and take a kip. This was the moment where I would usually climb on his lap so we would have a kip together. But not before he’d put his large hand over my face to tease me. He would hold it there until I started to laugh and I’d try to push it away but of course I could never manage as his hand was huge compared to my face and he was way stronger. I could smell gasoline, tabaco and coins on his hand and up to this day I have fond memories of this. It was one of his loving teasing games he would play.

So I guess this is where I’ve gotten this preference for strong masculine hands. They ‘ought to’ smell of gasoline and tabaco. They ‘ought to’ show marks of hard labour and raised vains. I guess it also has something to do with feeling protected and comforted. At times when I’m on my daily commute to work I notice men with effiminate features, I’ve realised that I often check out their hands as this would give me an impression of what type of person it is. This morning I saw this guy sitting opposite of me who had small feminine hands and was wearing way too many golden rings.

I realised I was seriously put off by it, which made me contemplate about the reason why. It seems I’m not an exception as studies have been done about the topic by different scientists and they offer some kind of explanation as to why people have certain preferences. I was happy to read that it has nothing to do with shallowness, I’m very aware of the flaws I have ;) but this particular issue seems to be based on a scientifically approved justification. So next time I’ll notice something that makes me seriously cringe, I’ll politely look away and instead play a silly game on my phone…