Tag: Clive Barret

Chapter Forty -One – 6 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

It was fascinating to be with someone who wanted to be with me.

That was one of the first emotions that came to mind when I thought of Francis. When we walked together, waited for the bus or we were at one of the Pagan brunches, Francis made room for me. I could see him lowering his walls just as I was lowering mine. It was never a thought that it was possible to love someone so effortlessly. I had never experienced this and it was so new to me. I felt included in his life and everyone I knew already knew Francis. It was a seamless transition from caterpillar to butterfly. The transition was not painful as I had wanted to be free of my cocoon for long.

I was still afraid, though. Francis held my heart in his hands, and it had been a long time since I had trusted another man to hold my heart carefully. I loved him despite that fear. I adored him because I was afraid. A small part of me even feared the love that Francis and I shared together because of everything that had happened in my past. I loved him with an open heart and wanted to hide and be seen by him at the same time. It was like I was walking an internal tight rope, and I had no idea where it would end.

Francis showed me that there was nothing to hide from. When I was with him, I remembered what joy was. I loved him so completely. Lisa and I would talk about it when I wasn’t with him. One night, we were getting ready for sleep. Lisa was lying on her bed smoking a cigarette and I was on my foam roll doing the same thing. From my vantage point on the ground looking up at Lisa’s ceiling, the smoke looked like clouds. I pretended we were on a raft floating along the water, letting ourselves flow towards the future.

“You don’t have to be afraid, you know.”

I perched on an elbow and looked at Lisa. “What do you mean? I’m not afraid.”

“You forget how well I know you.” She gave me a gentle smile. “You don’t have to go back there, Jamieson. I know you hold on to every slight and every slap you’ve ever received. People like you always do. I’m Warrior because I want what I wasn’t given and now I just fucking take it. You’re a Warrior because you love so much. Your heart is in everything you do and say. You walk around offering it to others every time you speak even though you’ve been hurt to the breaking point and still you offer your heart, but at the same time, you’re afraid. Francis isn’t like the other fuckers you dated. He’s not your father. He’s different, Jamieson.”

My nineteen-year-old heart swelled with hope and with love as I pictured Francis in my mind. I was standing with him and my heart swelled even more when I looked at him and took in the shape of his eyes crinkled because his lips were shaped in a smile as he looked at me. I could hear the rush of water again, the waves sending water into the boat. I looked around us and held on tighter to Francis, but I loosened my grip. I didn’t want to hurt him or hang on too tightly. I was afraid that he might turn away from me if I did that.

When I opened my eyes, Lisa had turned her head to look at me. “I keep over analysing everything,” I told her. “My heart, mind and spirit are open to him, they are giving and receiving love, but I am afraid, Lisa. What if I fuck this up?”

“The way that Francis looks at you, I’m sure that’s never going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

“So, it does. You’ll do what you always do, pick yourself up and get on with it, but you need to move on from all the worry. Just because Francis carries a lot of pain doesn’t mean you need to. You can’t love someone with one of your feet stuck in the past, Jamieson. If you love Francis, love him without the fear.”

I thought for a moment about what Lisa had said, looking at the smoke as it swirled above my head. I blew out smoke rings, trying to see if I could join the smoke that came from the burning cigarette with the smoke that came from my mouth. I watched intently for a moment, and the smoke looked like it was in a casual dance, melding and shifting with each other, before rising out of my sight. I noticed something though. When the smoke rings I sent up to the sky joined with the smoke from my cigarette, they each grew stronger, even if only for a moment. The smoke grew thicker and when they separated, they each took a bit from each other before moving onward.

I knew that Lisa was right. I had been afraid for so much of my life before now that fear had become the only thing I knew completely. I carried my fear and the pain that had caused it, and they were my constant companions. No matter where I roamed over the waters, fear had become my anchor, my pain an oar. I knew that I was letting my fear hold me back. I could love someone completely but still be afraid that they would cause me more pain. I didn’t want to find my direction in life because of the pain it had caused me.

“How do I let go of all of that?” I said this more to the smoke than Lisa. I felt the smoke would have a kinder response than she would. The smoke would probably say something mysterious and alluring. Lisa would deliver her advice in her typical bluntness. She was wise, but she did not mince words.

“By choosing to,” Lisa said. “You’re the one that controls your destiny, Jamieson. Where do you want to go? You need to pick your direction and head that way. Sometimes you have to let go of things when you choose a different direction.”

“What if it hurts?”

She let out a snort and a puff of smoke at the same time that made Lisa look like she was some of dragon. “Of course it’s going to hurt, Jamieson. That’s the point of growth. If our journey had no fucking pain, it would not be worth it. You’ve had more than your share of pain. It’s time to let some of it go.”

I closed my eyes and Francis was beside me again. The waters around us calmed and the boat that we rode in stopped rocking back and forth. I reached out to put my arm around him and pulled him close. I felt Francis put his arm around me and I looked forward to see where the waters would take us. I let out a puff of smoke and the water rippled, reflecting the sun as it shone down at us.

I opened my eyes and tried to let a bit of the pain go. It wasn’t much, but it was a start and that had to count for something.

Chapter Forty – 5 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

I was smiling when the bus drew up to the stop.

Francis was there waiting for me. He saw me in through the window of the bus and he came towards me, each step making the light in his face shine brighter. I wondered if I was as bright as him. I looked down at my skin and wondered if my light would shine through. I could feel the brightness increase the closer to Francis that I got. I wondered if it was possible that I was made of stars. I could see pinpricks of light in the pores of my skin.

The bus stopped and the door opened, and he was there in front of me. I had been dreaming and thinking about him all night and I was thrilled to realize that he wasn’t a dream and that the attraction to him was still palpable and real.  I could feel it growing within me with each step that I took toward him and wondered if the stars would be able to find the way out of my skin.

I had to be dreaming. I couldn’t be walking towards a beautiful man who was attracted to me, but then he was there, and his arms wrapped around me, and his kiss was jus as it was the night before, heady and full of want. I kissed him back and trying to convey joy and amazement. It felt like I was flying even though I knew that my feet were planted firmly on the ground. It was everything I thought falling in love should be.

He broke the kiss and looked me, light dancing in his eyes. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi yourself,” I told him. I kissed him again and then he took my hand, and we made our way to his apartment building. It felt natural holding his hand, like it belonged there. He took his hand back briefly to light two cigarettes and passed one to me.

I walked beside him, relishing the feeling of his hand clasping mine. I could feel an electric current passing between us and I began to wonder if the light would float out of us. I imagined a cloud of dust filled with diamonds in our wake. I felt so unlike myself, not in a bad way. I knew that we had only just met, but Francis could see all of me. He saw the pain that I carried with me, recognized it within himself, and still wanted me.

I knew that there were a few things we would have to discover about each other, but I also knew that I already loved him without a shadow of a doubt and that frightened me. I had dreamed of finding a man who would love me without question, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of fear. Despite that, I knew that I was heading towards something, and I was glad that we were going to be doing it together.

We walked into his apartment and Stacey was there, along with another young woman. “Good to see you again, Jamieson!” She said with a wide smile. She turned and gave Francis a wide wink. “This is my daughter, Shawna.”

Shawna came forward and gave me a quick hug. She was my age and had dark auburn hair and a kind face. “Hello! I’ve heard a lot about you. I hope all of it’s true.” I blushed, but not as deeply as Francis did. “I’m glad to see that someone has been able to pull Francis out of his shell.”

“We call him the turtle,” Stacey said. “Occasionally, he will peek out and engage with life, but it’s not too often.”

“What are you talking about?” Francis said, putting his hands on his hips. “I engage with life more than you two!” He wagged his finger at them both. “Come on, Jamieson. I’ll take you to my room.”

He showed me to his room and it was like a world colour had bloomed around me. I stepped into a room that had been decked out with all the colours of the rainbow. The walls had been draped with pictures of friends and family amidst scarves in every shade draped from the curtains, a bedspread that was dark brown and gold, and more fabric than I had ever seen before in my life. There were plastic boxes filled with pins and needles for sewing, trim and fringe for edging, pearls and other beads tucked beside a wingback chair covered in blue velvet fabric. In one corner was a mannequin dummy draped with the beginnings of an outfit. He had a small television in the corner. There were shelves that ran nearer to the ceiling that held books and crystals. I could see a mortar and pestle and a wreath with a pentagram at its centre.

“Don’t mind those two,” he said and closed the door. “They like to tease me a lot. They call me the hermit or the turtle. I just like my own company.”

“You have to be the hermit in order to shine your light.” I said.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly. He kissed me softly and I felt the need in that kiss.

We stood there looking at each other and then he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “I just want to clear things up a bit before we continue.”

“Okay,” I knew what he wanted to talk about before he opened his mouth. There was a weight in the air and I could feel it thickening as he gathered up the strength that he needed to speak them.

“You know what I want to talk to you about. You know that someone hurt me, too. But you should know that I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked him. I spoke the words softly, afraid to disturb the cloud that filled the room around us. I could sense that this was the weight that Francis carried with him. As he spoke, I watched as the cloud grew.

“It’s been fifteen years.” There was a loud silence after those words. “You must think I’m some kind of coward.”

“I would never think that of you.” I told him.

“I’ve been too afraid to.” He took another deep breath as if preparing himself for what could only be the worst. I watched as the cloud began to grow even darker, filled with words left unsaid, emotions kept to himself. I carried my own cloud, so I recognized it right away. “Every time that someone shows any kind of interest, I’d run away from them. I was too afraid to let anyone else get that close to me again.” He took a breath and when he let it out, I could feel a breeze kiss my cheeks and watched as it danced with the curtains, sending the gold lame and leopard printed fabric flutter in the wind.

“I was too afraid, until you.”

With those last two words, the weight of the cloud disappeared as if the sun itself had dried up all the unshed and excess rain. He was looking at me with hope it his eyes and at that moment, I would see right into his spirit, his dark eyes filled with need, want and hope “If you’ll have me, Jamieson, I’m yours.”

I kissed him and nodded. There was no question in my mind. My heart already knew the answer and I thought that he could feel the words  

Leaning forward, I kissed him gently on the lips. “Of course I’ll have you, but only if you’ll have me.”

He pulled me into a hug and kissed me. I could feel the hope in that kiss because I felt the same. I wanted to let go of the pain that I had carried onto for so long. I tried to communicate all of this in my kiss so that he would know that I understood him. When he gently broke the kiss, he looked at me and said “So, if we’re going to be together, what do I call you?”

Words ran through my mind like heart, magic, wish and love but I just told him: “How about boyfriends? That gives us a start and we can grow something together.”

There was a soft knock at Francis’ bedroom door. Stacey opened the door. She held up a plate of cookies. “Hello you two, I thought you two could come up for air and that you might need some nourishment.” She gave me a wide wink and I felt my cheeks blush.

“We’ve decided to call ourselves boyfriends.” Francis said with a wide smile.

“Boyfriends, huh?” Stacey gave us a huge grin. “That’s fantastic news!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Francis said.

I nodded and took a cookie from the plate. I thought I had never tasted anything so wonderful in my life before.

Chapter Thirty-Nine – 4 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

I found it difficult to sleep that night.

The pallet of foam beneath me felt like it was a cloud it felt as if I were moving all night, trying to find my way through the caves and caverns of dreamland. I felt like there was too much light within me. I wasn’t able to close my eyes against its brilliance.

There was a riot of emotions running through me and it almost felt like too much, the pull of the water within me too strong. I wasn’t used to feeling so much about someone. Even though I physically wanted someone, my emotions had long been turned off when it came to love. I dreamed about love, about the possibility of love and I’d wanted it for so long. It was impossible to think that I loved Francis already, but I knew the possibility of love was there, if I wanted it.

I twisted and turned and eventually let myself not sleep but dream. The only problem with dreams is that they don’t always go where you want them to go. In my half-sleep state, I dreamed of every boyfriend I’d ever had. By the time I could see the sun rising through Lisa’s bedroom window, I half convinced myself that the whole thing had been some kind of practical joke that had been played on me.

I just wasn’t convinced that any man could want me that much. My mind took me in all sorts of directions from wonder (I can’t believe that this happened to me!), to fear (what if he didn’t mean anything he had said?) and disbelief (he didn’t want me and there was no real connection). I had a world of voices in my head telling me that I wasn’t good enough for Francis. It was easy to ignore what they were saying if it was just one voice, but a whole chorus of them had almost convinced me that nothing had really happened by the time I got up and went to Lisa’s kitchen to start making a pot of coffee.

As I stood there waiting for the pot to brew, I gave my head a good shake. The chorus gave a loud scream in my mind as they scattered. It would be a while until they regrouped. I grabbed myself a mug, poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table so that I could light a cigarette. The smoke helped to clear my mind, too.

I didn’t know what to do, when I was going to speak to him or what would happen. I thought of taking up my tarot deck and seeing what the cards hat to say, but for once I didn’t want to know. I really just wanted to enjoy what I had experienced last night before my mind returned to push it away again. I wanted to remember the joy of it and how for one night I had felt special.

Lisa’s roommate Frank walked into the kitchen. “I thought I smelled coffee. Thanks man,” he said. Pouring himself a cup of black coffee, he sat at the table and lit a cigarette. “I know that look.”

“What look?” I asked.

“The look of someone who has a good thing and is trying to convince himself that it’s not worth it, he’ll just get hurt.”

I sat down and took hold of my own coffee. “Is it that obvious?”

Letting out a laugh, he gave me a knowing look. “Trust me, I’ve worn that look in the mirror lots of times.” Frank looked lost and his eyes. When he looked at me again, he seemed both in the room with me and lost in memories. “Don’t do what I do. I always run and convince myself that it would turn out horribly.” He let out a snort of laughter that loosened the lost look in his eyes. “It is horrible. I’m always alone.” He puffed out a plume of smoke. “I saw that kiss, Jamieson. I wouldn’t be walking away from that.”

My pager let out a beep. Looking down at the display, I saw it was Francis’ number. I checked my pocket for a quarter, grabbed my bag and made my way to Bronson and found a payphone there. I took a deep breath and said a prayer to the gods that this call would go well and that maybe, just maybe, Francis had been thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him. I dialed his number and Francis picked up after the first ring.

“Hello!”

Even his voice over the phone made my body feel warm. “Hi!” I said. I wasn’t thinking about trying to sound cool and composed. I closed my eyes cringing in case he said there was a mistake and that there was no way he could ever be with me.

“I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. Your ears must have been on fire this morning.”

“More like my whole body,” I said without thinking.

“Mine, too.” He said. “It’s like you’ve woken me up from a long sleep. Are you doing anything right now?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not busy with anything.”

“Can you come and see me? I would offer to pick you up, but I don’t have a car.”

“It’s okay, I have bus fare.”

“Okay, take the 85.” He said. He gave me the address and I knew where it was along the bus route. “I’ll come and meet you at the bus stop and we can walk back to my place. Would that be okay? I really want to talk to you some more. It seemed like we didn’t get enough time last night.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Good, that’s good.” He sounded as nervous as I felt.

“There’s an 85 coming down the street now. I can hop on and be there in about fifteen.”

“That’s amazing. I’ll see you soon, Jamieson.”

I hung up the phone and ran across the street so that I could catch the bus. I hopped on and thought about what I would find when I got there. Would Francis capture my attention just as much as he had when we had met?

I was betting on yes. I sat there with my bag on my lap, too nervous and keyed up to read. I just sat waiting for my stop, wondering what awaited me on this path that I had chosen not to turn away from.

Chapter Thirty-Eight – 3 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

That night, I walked home with Fox and Lisa.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss him!” she said. She sounded like she was admonishing me, but there was laughter in her voice.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

“He was supposed to help you heal, talk about your feelings about what happened.”

Fox let out a chuckle. “It looked like there was lots of healing going on there, but I could have misread the situation.” He nudged gently in the ribs. “But I don’t think I did.”

I blushed and wondered if my friends could see it in the darkness as my cheeks burned so brightly. “You’re not wrong.” I said, grinning.

“I didn’t think so. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,”

“I still think you should have talked first before you started making out.”

“We did talk first,” I told her. “We talked all night.”

“Yeah, but you did you talk about what you’d been through?”

I sighed inwardly. I didn’t want to talk about this in front of Fox. I know that he would accept whatever I had to tell him, but right now, only Lisa, Francis and I knew what I had been through. I didn’t want to bother another person with the sadness that I carried. “Can we just focus on joy this evening? I had a great night, I won the contest, and I don’t feel any shadows around me for one. Can we talk later and just live the joy?” I was far too elated to let her slip up bother me. I had finally kissed a man that found me attractive and wanted to get to know me instead of viewing me as an inconvenience or a freak. “I want to celebrate.” I said.

Lisa stopped and lit three cigarettes, passing one to Fox and one to me. “Can we talk about how you two were eye-fucking each other the entire time? You could cut the sexual tension with a knife around you two.”

Both Fox and I laughed, and it was so wonderful to laugh about something so wonderful. “True, I thought you guys were totally going to dry hump right there.”

“Stop it!” I said, the laughter in me increasing. I was giddy with the sheer joy of it.

“Why would we stop?” Lisa said, grinning. “You wanted a celebration and the sheer act of laughing means that this is a celebration.” She took a mickey of booze out of her purse and showed it to us. “Come on boys, the night is young.”

I led us down a path where the trees opened up above us and we could see the night sky. I could see a few stars shining and I felt like a wish I hadn’t even made had been answered. I watched as the cigarette smoke mingled with the stars, making them look like they were showing themselves through clouds. I wondered if the stars were different than the night before; I certainly felt different.

“You’re glowing, dude.” Fox said.

I blushed even deeper than last time. “Thanks.”

“Just be careful,” Lisa said. “I’ve known Francis a long time and he’s always been alone. He’s never even been attracted to anyone as far as I know.”

“Till me,”

“Till you.” She threw her cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it to put it out, sending a shower of sparks that bloomed out over the pavement. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. I’m only saying this as your friend.”

“I know.” And I did. She was a mother to all of us, really. She couldn’t help but worry about me. Lisa knew about most of the ways I’d been hurt. She said that’s what made me such a good warrior.

“Remember, Jamie. Warriors don’t feel pain. They take it in and use it to move forward.”

“I know,” I said again.

There was a moment of silence between the three of us. There were so many emotions running through me that it was all I could do just to let myself feel them. The one that came to the surface of the water the most was joy, an absolute, all-consuming joy. It felt good and I felt amazing. I hadn’t

“Dude, can we talk about the kiss?” Fox said. “That kiss was epic!”

I let out a laugh and marvelled at how good a kiss could make me feel. When I looked at Lisa and Fox, we all started laughing. Lisa surprised both Fox and I by letting out a warrior cry that was echoed the joy I felt. She started running as if she wanted to chase down the moon and Fox and I ran after her.

I put my arms out as I ran and, for a moment, I could have sworn that I was flying.

Chapter Thirty-Seven – 2 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

We talked well into the night.

Francis’ roommate Stacey came back and placed two purses and her beer on the bar between Francis and myself. “You lovebirds okay to watch our purses?” she said. “Lisa and I are going to dance and it looks like you two have a lot more to talk about.” She gave Francis a coy smile as she walked away and held up both thumbs.

Francis flushed and smiled at her. “Go on and dance,”

I shook my head a little. “What was the thumbs up about?”

The blush on Francis’ cheeks deepened and he held up his beer to clink his bottle against mine. “Thank you for this,” he said.

“For what?” I asked him. I found it odd that he would want to thank me for anything.

“I don’t have to speak about it with you,” he said. “You have no idea how annoying it is to have introduce themselves and then ask if any of the rumours are true. I didn’t have to explain myself to you, you have already experienced the same trauma.”

I shook my head again. “Lisa said that your assault was worse than mine,” I told him.

“Don’t you see? It’s not about whose experience was worse than who’s. The fact is that you already understand the pain.” He waved his hand at the people in the bar, the smoke from his cigarette like a lasso looping them all together. “The rest of them want to imagine how bad it was so that they can quantify it, make it into something they can understand.” He said. “I don’t have to do that with you, Jamieson. You’ve already felt the kind of pain that I’ve experienced. You don’t know what kind of a relief that is.”

I looked into is eyes so that he would understand me. “I’ve only told Lisa,” I said in a shameful whisper. “She’s the only one that knows.”

“So? At least you’ve told someone. And now, both Lisa and I know, the three of us. There is magic in the number three. To me, they are like joy and from that joy is the seed to start again.”

I don’t know why the prospect of others knowing my shame and not being judged for it or being seen as weak brought me joy, but it did. The fact that Lisa and now Francis knew what had happened to me and didn’t see me as someone to be pitied brought me out of my shame a bit. In that moment, I realized that it had not been something I had asked for. It had been something that had been done to me. Something had been taken, I had not given it. I stood there looking at Francis and wondered why the world seemed so much clearer when I was by his side.

I was still frantic from my win and the energy between Francis and I felt like it was electric, as if there were strings of lightning between us that I could not see but could certainly feel. I felt things within me that I had assumed would be gone forever. Every time he touched my hand or brushed a finger along my palm, I could feel the heat begging for release of some kind. The connection between us was strong. I did wonder briefly about a connection made because of pain. In that moment, I wondered if the connection was so strong because we both wanted to find joy, so we found it in each other.

The music switched from a song with flutes and started playing a remix of Fuck You Like An Animal by Nine Inch Nails started playing. It was one of my favourite songs and I could feel the beat running through me. I wanted to lose myself in the music. Up until recently, the worlds that I found in books and the lyrics in songs and music hadn’t ever judged me. They gave me a place where I belonged.

I went out on to that dance floor and I knew that I didn’t look like anyone else. I was wearing a loud purple tshirt with a green sweater vest, white jeans and scuffed Doc Martin’s. I was the epitome of nervousness and uncertainty and as I walked toward the dance floor, I could feel Francis’ eyes on me. The intensity of his stare made me lose myself in the music even more and I let the beats of the song pull me away from myself. I lost myself in the moment and didn’t think about how I looked, what Francis thought and tried to ignore the fact that he was still watching. I didn’t care whether I was elegant or refined in my movements, I just let the music dictate how I had to dance.

I kept moving until the song came to an ending and opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was Francis and it was to him that I walked towards, even feeling like I was being pulled to him. There was no way to stop, I wouldn’t have if I could have tried. I got to him and he put his arms around me. “That was some mating dance you just did,” he said and then his lips were upon mine and the whole world stood still.

Nothing else mattered at that moment but Francis and his embrace and I happily lost and found myself as I gave in to the kiss. The air around us was silent but I could feel the beat of the music and our hearts running through me and I was alive with it. I had read and watched moments like this, but I never expected to experience one. Connections between two people like this only happened in books, movies and television and here I was having one in real life. This had to be real, I thought. This had to be real, only nothing like this ever happened to me.

When the kiss broke and the sound returned, we pulled apart and just looked into each other. All I could see were the rushing waters in his eyes and I wondered if my eyes looked full of wonder, too?

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” he said.

I had to agree. Even though we didn’t kiss again that night, it felt like a decision had been made between us. I gave him the number for my pager and felt a thrill when he placed the number in his wallet. “I’ll call you.”

I nodded, trying to swallow my heart and keep myself from giving it to him right away. I needed to keep my heart to myself tonight so that I could relive every moment. Even if nothing else ever happened between Francis and myself, I had to know that this night happened.

I had to believe that wishes did come true.