on her first visit. Oh man, that was incredible. We totally clicked and it was soooo intimate and sensual and fingers intertwined and, my god, that first kiss, heaven! I remember it as if it were yesterday.
We arranged another visit for four days just before she left the UK to continue on her travels. That was absolute joy. We got on famously, laughing, teasing, sharing music, history, memories... and the sex, my god the sex! As documented here I've had my issues with sex for the past ten years or so, but they all just disappeared. We were so comfortable and I totally got my mojo back. Everything between us was just so effortless.
Around this time we were aware that we were developing some pretty strong feelings for each other. Our whole friendship prior to this was based on honesty and openness, and we've continued that theme. We talked about the feelings and both agreed we didn't want a long-distance relationship, that it would be too hard, for very valid reasons. We decided to try and keep things under control in the meantime and that we'd see it as a fling and end things when she went home.
After our four days together, she went off to Europe with a view to one more night together in London when she came back, just before she flew home. As she travelled from city to city, country to country, we stayed in touch every night we could.
Various events conspired to bring us back together sooner than we expected. She travelled from Berlin to my house in about sixteen hours. So there we were, three weeks before she was due to fly home, with plans to follow the Thames for the last week.
Those two weeks were some of the most amazing days of my life. She fit in so well with our life, got on amazingly well with daughter who just seemed to accept her instantly. Writing it all out now, it seems incredible that was all so easy.
The idea, continuously, was to move apart when she went home. The week away following the river was such a bonding experience that the closer we got to her flight, the more we realised it was going to be much harder than we thought.
When we got to the check-in desk at the airport, we cried. When she walked through the gate to her flight and out of my life, I cried. When I lugged my bags upstairs and into my empty flat, I cried. I cried a lot, it hurt to think that that was it, it was over.
Her journey lasted around thirty-six hours. That was tough. When she finally arrived home we chatted, discussed the pain and the love, the highs and lows, the goods and bads. We talked about staying together, but agreed to put any discussion off for a week until our sleep had settled and our emotions had calmed somewhat.
A couple of days later I visited my best friend. We had a good chat, perhaps one of the the greatest chats I've ever had. She helped me calm down and see through the pain and picture what could be achieved if we stayed together, and what we had a chance of losing if we didn't. With a little ear-bending and direction-finding help from her, my mind was made up.
Of course we should try and make a go of it. These sparks and fireworks do not come along often, and when they do I think it's best to grab them with both hands and not let go. So here we are, me in England, she in Australia, apart but together.
I'll be honest, it's only the first week but it's so much easier than I thought it would be. Our friendship was such that we spoke most days online in one way or form anyway, so this appears to be an extension of that. I've spent a few hours beaming grins at my computer screen while we chat, we're keeping each other steady and discussing the future and generally continuing the policy of honesty and communication and... love!
I love her. Totally. I have been completely swept off my feet. She's a special one mate, truly, and I'm going to try my hardest to make it work. At the moment, it just feels... effortless.
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