Because I can barely keep this a secret.

His name isn’t important to this piece right now.  What’s important is that I LOVE him, that I am IN LOVE with him. My usual MO is to abandon myself to the feeling; to lose myself in his life.  To “chameleon” my way into being what he needs, wants, all the while letting my self go unattended.

And that is the tragedy of my past loves. I stopped loving me in order to love them.

I’ve begun loving myself though.  I’ve fallen in love with the “perfect imperfection” that is me – I love how when I’m really excited, I act like a four-year old in a toy store; I see things in their brightly colored wrappers as if they’re brand new to me. I drop cool points like hot coals as I giggle, grin, and tear up. I enjoy that it doesn’t take much to bring me peace; that I don’t need expensive baubles to show to the world. I love that I don’t know, that I don’t retain trivia, that I don’t follow propaganda and rumor or trends and fads.  I LOVE that the right touch tingles, that I feel things to extreme – deeply, passionately, openly. I love that there is room in my world for other’s opinions, beliefs, ways of doing things and that I don’t feel any need to change their minds, or bring them around to my way of thinking. I feel amazing in my soul when others feel comfortable enough around me to let their guard down and be their true selves; that my acceptance of others is palpable. I especially love the voices in my head – because of them I am never, really alone.  They’ve brought me my stories, my insights; they’ve protected me and helped me survive. I love that sometimes my behavior triggers feelings of discomfort or even embarrassment in people around me. Going new places, road trips, cruises, being on the ocean or near large, immense bodies of water – all things that bring out that little kid in me.

And then, there’s him.  Our story began over 20 years ago.  Twenty-eight years to be exact – at times, I’ve felt angry at how quickly those years passed.  How he has spent the majority of them giving someone else the very things I’ve longed for, craved.  Not money but his time, attention, care, and affection.  He’s traveled the world, had experiences that I would have given just about anything to have shared with someone special. And now, here we are, tentatively exploring the possibility of becoming “us” just as I’m discovering “me”.  I want to travel to places he’s already been, I want to have experiences he’s already lived. I want to do them with him, but if it comes down to it, I’ll go alone.

I’ve learned what true, deep, soul soothing, peace bringing love is. It’s staying on my path, being true to myself.  It’s standing in my light and offering to warm others in the heat. It is doing what I feel will bring me peacefully to my joy with consistency and comfort.

Ah, but there are moments when I’m giddy with the feel of his words spoken in my ear. He’s reached into my heart it seems, and plucked out the phrases I’ve been desperate to hear. I was immediately lulled into feeling safe for the first time no sooner than I was in his arms. He embodied the description, written in the stillness of longing, the quiet depth of heartbreak that I’d committed to the pages of my journal. Physical descriptions, what this ideal love would say or do…he looks just as I described and has already uttered two of the key phrases. I fear that with a third, I will be undone.  Yet I believe he will. He will speak those words without hesitation or pretense. He will speak to me as he has always done, from his heart. And just as I did before, as I’ve done all these years of separation, I will answer with mine.  He will actively pursue me in such a way as I will gladly be caught. I have already begun to see myself in a more feminine light because he is so strongly, the man I’ve wanted.

I have believed and preached for years that the RIGHT relationship – be it platonic or romantic – is one in which you are supported in becoming a better you.  You feel compelled to shine in all your glory without fear of rejection, judgement, or abandonment. Hours into our first conversation, I felt those stirrings of my truer nature as they responded to him. A sense of acceptance has enveloped me ever since.

*sigh* He sings me love songs, smh.  You have no idea how significant that is to me, lol.  I won’t bore you with why.  In fact, I’ve taken up quite enough of your time already. I just had to get this out.  I’m so madly, shamelessly, joyfully, in love – not just with him, but with the me I’m returning to.  It’s getting impossible to contain.

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