The I-Meant Mixer 25 Year Death Song Indiegogo Project Blog Post 06

        A sweet old fashioned San Antonio style love ballad   

The I-Meant Mixer

Many people go to church to find a wife, but that didn’t occur to me until very recently. I’ve been attending Rissho Kosei-Kai, a Japanese lay Buddhist church, for over a year, and there I have met many wonderful women. A few thought I was interested in them and liked it, some thought the same and did not. I’m starting to realize that subconsciously I have been putting out a horney vibe, probably for a long time and without intending it to be apparent. I reckon the only one I’ve been fooling is me.

Kayla is beautiful and joyful, and we clicked right of the bat. She was so what I’m looking for but again I missed my chance. She always had a couple guys sniffing around her who weren’t in the game, but I held off aloof with my monastic dignity. She stopped coming to church, but I ran into her again at the grocery store, she called to me across the parking lot, both so happy together again. She was married and expecting, so said; and I was happy for her, but walked away counting the mistakes I had made with her case.

All over town there are young women I exchange pleasantries with at their jobs; waiters, cashiers, librarians, managers, etc. I have no explanation why I flirt with them and not others when it has always seemed to me to be without intent. Perhaps it is that I have fears that showing real interest would be unwelcome, and the fear of rejection trumps my desires. A good example is a young woman I know as Prima, a willowy beauty, one time ballerina who managers a first class taco eatery I frequent. We chat, and she has even spoken well of my poetry and shown some interests in my projects. I value our erstwhile friendship so that I haven’t even asked for her name. I gave her the link to the preview and asked her to let me know if she wanted to participate. I don’t know if she looked, or what she thought, but the last couple times me met she moved of very quickly. I only observe this without assigning any meaning. Nothing useful in a practical equation.

Heather Leather is kind lately, and seems to touch me with encouragement. I think she likes that I don’t bother her with foolish questions, and that I have been speaking discreetly and saying affectionate statements that sometime surprise her, and from her reaction I reckon she enjoys them. No equation here but I feel good feelings. Still though, it feels torturous, and seemingly so uncertain.