Warning: contains adult stuff.
Feelings. And oxytocin.
I met a girl. I've known her for a couple of years but spent some time together and she's more wonderful than I could have imagined. We talked and laughed and shared each other like a chocolate box. There was warmth and closeness and touch and tickle and teasing and relaxation and excitement and almost heaven but not quite. We spent a morning enjoying each other and an afternoon walking through a hoar frost to the local gardens, slip-sliding, solidifying our friendship, taking a hundred photos, eating chocolate muffins under gently falling ice and laughing with each other.
Her attention and compliments have filled me with such incredible feelings; happiness, confidence, sexuality, appeal, almost disbelief to some extent. That disbelief is suspended by the realisation that yes, this beautiful woman liked me enough to share herself with me. I keep shaking my head and exclaiming, but the memories of the day are keeping me warm and fuzzy as I sit here in my cold office.
These feelings have an edge, and that's what I want to write about today. The edge is almost like a precipice with me elevated and looking over into an abyss filled with love and adoration. I've been reading a little this morning about separating sex and love, and the general consensus is that men have no problem keeping the two distinctly apart, while women seem to have difficulty doing so. Let me tell you now, some men find it tough too, and I count myself among this number.
I was open with her about this. I was honest and told her it'd be very easy to fall for her, not just because of the sex but because she's a good person, kind and sweet and funny and feisty and confident and smart. I'm definitely attracted to her for these and many other reasons, but there are constraints on the possibility of anything further that are almost totally impassable.
There's a real possibility of further intimacy, and this highlights a requirement to keep my mind as casual as the sex. I'm glad I'm self-aware enough to catch this early; I know I'd be able to deal with it further down the line but I'd rather just try to enjoy her company instead of worrying too much about emotional attachment.
It was so close I could feel it
bubbling away gently under her touch. She developed my arousal for a couple of hours before taking me in hand and bringing me so far with her words and kisses and gliding fingertips. She was confident and capable and with a little guidance had me begging myself for release.
At the point I noticed it could be possible, I willed myself on. It was that enthusiasm that brought about my downfall; I was determined to please her, to show her how incredible she made me feel, to please myself and enjoy the moment to its natural conclusion. That determination seemed to trigger a reversal of the impending ecstasy and I came back down to reality with a sense of disappointment. There are a lot of feelings involved in this. I've felt them before but not explored them in depth, and I'd like to take a look at them so perhaps I can be more relaxed and learn to simply let things happen.
There's a definite fear of displeasing my partner if I fail to reach the finish. In truth, her reaction was kind and understanding, perfect for such a sensitive situation and entirely as I'd expect from this person in particular.
The patience I see in this girl's heart is commendable, and hopefully she'll enjoy the process of exploration as much as I hope to.
How easy it would be to just let go
and let it embrace me, this underlying feeling of expectancy, of appreciation, of the seeds of love. I've skirted around even thinking that word until now because of how loaded it is, almost like its mental utterance could initiate the spell.
Inside me I can feel how close to the edge I am; I'm definitely attracted to her and my body and brain are letting me know how open they are to bringing her into my life. I'm attracted almost magnetically, like something's switched in my mind and I'm drawn to thinking about her. It's like she's a drug and every time I remember the touch of her fingers, her smile, her kiss, her weight as she sat on my lap... every time I remember these things I get my fix.
So, what's holding me back? As wonderful as I know it could be, there are a few important things that are keeping me from abandoning my restraint and just falling.
I don't want a long-distance relationship. I've told myself a few times over the past days that were she within thirty or forty miles I'd be much more open to it, but it's quite a bit further than that. I'm a touchy-feely guy. I'm almost sure I couldn't cope with the frustration of not being close enough to touch, to cuddle, to make love, whenever the temptation caught us. I've waited so long for love I fear I couldn't wait for connection if I found it. There's something thrilling about having to wait, but in this instance the waiting may be too much to bear.
She's young. I mean, it shouldn't matter. She's a good person, a great person, so age shouldn't matter, should it? But it does. I keep telling myself it doesn't, putting it to the back of my mind, but it keeps cropping back up. I mean, I'm flattered, hugely, and quite smug under the surface. But I imagine my daughter, at this age, sleeping with a guy of my age, and it just plain freaks me out a little. Having seen it from this side I can see how it works, how easy it is for two compatible people to connect, regardless of the age difference. That I feel right on the edge of falling is testament to that. Stuff keeps racing through my mind about something she mentioned: children. We're a billion light years away from that, I know - I don't even know where her brain is in all of this, but mine is asking these questions. Phew, that's kinda scary.
Oh, I have doubts too. Doubts about my suitability for her, about her motives, about so many things it's making my head spin. These things aren't about her as a person in the most part, but more about my past and how I've been treated by others. I know it's natural for me to question these things and it all comes down to whether I feel strong enough to trust myself, as well as her. I reckon I do.
All this is based on so many unknowns it's almost making me laugh that I'm obsessing over things, but it's an indication of the power of emotions, interaction and hormones... it's making my brain fizz. Coupled with stress about various things - my job and how I'm so fundamentally sick of it, it almost hurts to come in every day, damaging my self-esteem and making me kick myself for not sorting something out earlier in the year; financial worries about Christmas; the idea of my daughter going away for a week over Christmas which, at first, didn't bother me but the closer it gets the more it's going to be strange not having her around... all this is causing me to feel not overloaded, but certainly like I'm carrying a weight.
My, this is all starting to sound dark and morbid. It's not supposed to, because I've met someone I like, someone who shines like the sun, and I'm on the edge of thinking about possibly maybe becoming emotionally attached, emotionally available, of opening myself up to someone special. A couple of years ago this wouldn't have been possible without freaking out, or sabotaging it; that I'm even here trying to straighten my head about it all is A Good Thing. She's a star, and if nothing else, this is proof to me that I am worthy of a star's affections.
I still occasionally shake my head in disbelief
but it's certain: I just spent four nights, almost five whole days, in the company of one of the most incredible women I've had the pleasure to share myself with. She's bright, feisty, sexy, funny, artistic, positive and audacious and I think it'll be hard, but not impossible, to click with someone so effortlessly again.
We walked, played, cooked, ate, shared, giggled, hung-out, sang, danced, joked, cried, kissed, cuddled, undressed, made lots and lots of wonderful adventurous love and didn't want it to end. She helped me regain my personal and sexual confidence and prove myself human once again. She showed me I can open my mind to emotional availability and that I am attractive, appreciated and understood. I now know that, should the right woman come along, I am worthy.
We parted on the cusp of the unspoken "L-word", a flood held back only by the impervious dam of distance. We both agreed that long-distance relationships weren't our thing, and if we were closer we'd definitely try. We're gutted that it isn't going any further - except for a liaison in January - but it's so incredibly comforting to us both that we've attracted such awesome partners. I know this sounds big-headed and this is where much of the supposed disbelief comes from, but looking into her eyes like mine, sharing a smile, a moment, a connection, I realised I am half of this, this sensational, almost perfect meeting of minds and bodies, emotions and pleasures.
It's also been an exercise in emotional restraint, and continues to be an experiment in understanding and restraining the tide of emotional attachment. I know I've fallen for her; now that she's gone there's a gap, like something intangible has been removed and I feel its absence. I told her I was falling, that I'd fallen. I wanted her to know she could be appreciated, understood; here goes... that she could be loved. She's had some bad luck in the past and I hoped to reassure her that
Along with that, I wanted to show myself that I'm open-minded enough to let someone in. I spent so much of the past thirteen years pushing people away, not allowing myself to get emotionally attached for fear of being hurt, but I found it surprisingly easy to open myself up to her. I guess this is because we've spent the past couple of years getting to know each other online and we're already familiar with each other's backgrounds and issues.We were so incredibly comfortable with each other, initially as friends but ultimately as so much more. We called each other lovers and we definitely made love: gentle, caring, reciprocal, fantastic love.
Now it's ended, we're both faced with dealing with this gap, this hole we've left in each other's lives. I wouldn't have let myself and my emotions go if I weren't confident of being strong enough to handle this process, but I'm certainly interested in my feelings and how I'm going to manage. I know I can do it, but the script is unwritten as yet. I don't want to get over it completely, just to handle it well enough to leave me stable and alleviate this yearning I'm feeling.
I will always keep her, and these few days we spent together, in my heart.
I spent a few days without hearing anything
so I assumed she was keeping her distance and moving on. This sat fine with me; we'd discussed the need to let things go and I myself was trying to move on, too. The lack of contact was a little disconcerting but I was aware that if we talked to each other as much as usual, moving on would prove to be difficult.
Regardless, it was considerably tougher than I'd hoped and I constantly found myself thinking her name, spotting reminders of our time together around the flat, and missing her in my bed when I tried to get to sleep. I had an urge to pick up my guitar and I played and sang until my fingers throbbed and throat were sore - a sure sign of an emotive me. I was in the grip of something I didn't want to admit, something I tried to hide from. I could feel hormones and catalysts and emotion and infatuation coursing through my body and I know on reflection that I was crazy to try and fight it.
The day after she left I was dulling my yearning with a bottle of cider when an opportunity presented itself, an opportunity to give someone a boost and nudge myself in the direction of moving on. In a slight haze, I asked a girl out, and went to sleep. When I awoke I had a feeling of dread that it would ultimately end up being a mistake, and I was right. Over the next few hours it dawned on me that I'd been pretty thoughtless and not taken into account the feelings of the woman I'd recently been with.
I decided to tell her, though. Our friendship thrives on clarity and honesty and our short relationship was no different. Our openness of spirit, emotion and body led us to some fantastic moments and I wanted to continue that trend, to uphold the trust. So I put together an email with my thoughts on what I'd done and waited, somewhat nervous because I was aware that it could upset her.
The moment I left work, the chat on my phone chirped and it was her. She'd emailed, I read it and my heart sank. When I thought perhaps she was coping better than me, I was wrong. She'd spent the past few days missing me and fighting with increasing emotion, just as I had.
My actions had hurt and confused her, just as I feared the would on waking. We discussed it at length and I got myself really wound up. I was horrified to have hurt her, kicking myself for being a typically insensitive and thoughtless man. I take great pride in caring about other people and not upsetting them, but I'd leapt in and disappointed someone I cared so much about. I felt like a fool.
We talked it through, though, like adults. This was amazing. I kept thinking to myself, "Where's all the cloak and dagger stuff, the hiding of emotions and actions which normal relationships run on?" but I'm pleased to find that it simply isn't necessary with this girl.
Honesty. Awesome.
So she's still a little hurt and I'm still a little confused, both by the unthoughtfulness of my actions and what the future is going to hold emotionally. I'm so pleased that we've managed to stay open and conversational throughout this, and it's something I sincerely hope we can continue.
After some discussion I thought it best if I got in touch with the girl I asked out and tell her the truth, tell her that I'd got myself emotionally entangled with someone else and that it wasn't fair on either of them if we were to meet. She ultimately responded, "mildly irked" but thankfully quite positive. I'm sure I've done the right thing here because it feels right in my gut, and I'm pleased I've been adult enough to hold my hands up and admit I was wrong.
I woke up ten minutes before my alarm
feeling tense and concerned. I think I was dreaming. The feeling's stuck with me all the way to work and despite feeling quite good and level before drifting into a heavy sleep last night, I'm still a little low and worried about yesterday's events.
I'm scared that letting loose these feelings could be dangerous. We're adults, emotive and caring and competent enough to recognise when we're falling, but these feelings are strong and persuasive and could ultimately be quite damaging for both of us. It's great, fantastic, overwhelming that we feel this way but we put barriers up initially for firm, positive reasons; that those barriers have been toppled by the strength of feeling doesn't come as a surprise, but it does concern me that we may have gone too far to make the process of getting over each other much harder than we think it might be.
Maybe we were crazy to think we could keep it under control, that we could beat the carving of thousands of years of human companionship with a little positive mental attitude. When I put it like that, it certainly seems like we were. But that doesn't stop it being one of the most fulfilling, wonderful, surprising, heavenly, fun, sexy and emotionally-charged times of my entire life. It's been such an exciting journey, getting to know you as a person instead of pixels on the screen, the intricacies of your hands and fingers, the little lines next to your eyes when you smile, the way your brow furrows when you pretend to be mad, every ridge and curve of your body, every carefully-chosen word when you tell me I'm worth the universe and more.
I don't want to stop feeling like this, but I know at some point we'll have to put the brakes on and move past our feelings for each other. I never want that to be a complete process, at least not for me. I'd like to think I could always hold a little ball of our time together, our emotions, our caring and our lovemaking, wrapped in layers of purple silk with a thick coat, hat and gloves at the back of my mind.
I want to say it. Can I say it?
Later that evening, I said it
“I think I love you.”
And I did. And I do. Right there and then, my brain was screaming for more, my heart was desperate to have her back and my head was heavy at the thought that she was so far away and we’d only have one more day together. We spent the evening talking through our feelings and getting things clear.
I’m writing this in retrospect to fill in some gaps, and I feel like I’ve told the story so many times I’m going to leave it here and let the following posts take up the reins. I think I’ve covered it in most respects, and I hope this stands as a record of the roller-coaster that was our meeting. I look forward to all the twists, loops and turns to come.
Feelings. And oxytocin.
I met a girl. I've known her for a couple of years but spent some time together and she's more wonderful than I could have imagined. We talked and laughed and shared each other like a chocolate box. There was warmth and closeness and touch and tickle and teasing and relaxation and excitement and almost heaven but not quite. We spent a morning enjoying each other and an afternoon walking through a hoar frost to the local gardens, slip-sliding, solidifying our friendship, taking a hundred photos, eating chocolate muffins under gently falling ice and laughing with each other.
Her attention and compliments have filled me with such incredible feelings; happiness, confidence, sexuality, appeal, almost disbelief to some extent. That disbelief is suspended by the realisation that yes, this beautiful woman liked me enough to share herself with me. I keep shaking my head and exclaiming, but the memories of the day are keeping me warm and fuzzy as I sit here in my cold office.
These feelings have an edge, and that's what I want to write about today. The edge is almost like a precipice with me elevated and looking over into an abyss filled with love and adoration. I've been reading a little this morning about separating sex and love, and the general consensus is that men have no problem keeping the two distinctly apart, while women seem to have difficulty doing so. Let me tell you now, some men find it tough too, and I count myself among this number.
I was open with her about this. I was honest and told her it'd be very easy to fall for her, not just because of the sex but because she's a good person, kind and sweet and funny and feisty and confident and smart. I'm definitely attracted to her for these and many other reasons, but there are constraints on the possibility of anything further that are almost totally impassable.
There's a real possibility of further intimacy, and this highlights a requirement to keep my mind as casual as the sex. I'm glad I'm self-aware enough to catch this early; I know I'd be able to deal with it further down the line but I'd rather just try to enjoy her company instead of worrying too much about emotional attachment.
It was so close I could feel it
bubbling away gently under her touch. She developed my arousal for a couple of hours before taking me in hand and bringing me so far with her words and kisses and gliding fingertips. She was confident and capable and with a little guidance had me begging myself for release.
At the point I noticed it could be possible, I willed myself on. It was that enthusiasm that brought about my downfall; I was determined to please her, to show her how incredible she made me feel, to please myself and enjoy the moment to its natural conclusion. That determination seemed to trigger a reversal of the impending ecstasy and I came back down to reality with a sense of disappointment. There are a lot of feelings involved in this. I've felt them before but not explored them in depth, and I'd like to take a look at them so perhaps I can be more relaxed and learn to simply let things happen.
There's a definite fear of displeasing my partner if I fail to reach the finish. In truth, her reaction was kind and understanding, perfect for such a sensitive situation and entirely as I'd expect from this person in particular.
"We can try again."The knowledge that we'll be meeting again, and almost certainly be taking the opportunity to explore each other further, made this episode easier to deal with. But I'm concerned that I've got myself into a mental and physical trap with the whole process of orgasm and it's going to take some work to get past it. Sharing your body with a partner is an incredible thing anyway, but this person seems more than happy to put in the effort to help me get past this, which is a truly wonderful gift.
"Men's ability to climax doesn't necessarily have to be linked to feelings of love and romance. Women of all ages, by contrast, tend to find that their sexual confidence and competence flower in a climate of appreciation and deep affection."I've often read that some women have a similar situation when trying to orgasm with a partner. Some advice I read here is very helpful. I know exactly what I have to do to come, and I just need to feel aroused, comfortable and relaxed and show my partner how to help me there. I also need to refrain from pleasuring myself every day, and cut back on how often I use the particular works-every-time technique that is robbing me of my sensitivity.
The patience I see in this girl's heart is commendable, and hopefully she'll enjoy the process of exploration as much as I hope to.
How easy it would be to just let go
and let it embrace me, this underlying feeling of expectancy, of appreciation, of the seeds of love. I've skirted around even thinking that word until now because of how loaded it is, almost like its mental utterance could initiate the spell.
Inside me I can feel how close to the edge I am; I'm definitely attracted to her and my body and brain are letting me know how open they are to bringing her into my life. I'm attracted almost magnetically, like something's switched in my mind and I'm drawn to thinking about her. It's like she's a drug and every time I remember the touch of her fingers, her smile, her kiss, her weight as she sat on my lap... every time I remember these things I get my fix.
So, what's holding me back? As wonderful as I know it could be, there are a few important things that are keeping me from abandoning my restraint and just falling.
I don't want a long-distance relationship. I've told myself a few times over the past days that were she within thirty or forty miles I'd be much more open to it, but it's quite a bit further than that. I'm a touchy-feely guy. I'm almost sure I couldn't cope with the frustration of not being close enough to touch, to cuddle, to make love, whenever the temptation caught us. I've waited so long for love I fear I couldn't wait for connection if I found it. There's something thrilling about having to wait, but in this instance the waiting may be too much to bear.
She's young. I mean, it shouldn't matter. She's a good person, a great person, so age shouldn't matter, should it? But it does. I keep telling myself it doesn't, putting it to the back of my mind, but it keeps cropping back up. I mean, I'm flattered, hugely, and quite smug under the surface. But I imagine my daughter, at this age, sleeping with a guy of my age, and it just plain freaks me out a little. Having seen it from this side I can see how it works, how easy it is for two compatible people to connect, regardless of the age difference. That I feel right on the edge of falling is testament to that. Stuff keeps racing through my mind about something she mentioned: children. We're a billion light years away from that, I know - I don't even know where her brain is in all of this, but mine is asking these questions. Phew, that's kinda scary.
Oh, I have doubts too. Doubts about my suitability for her, about her motives, about so many things it's making my head spin. These things aren't about her as a person in the most part, but more about my past and how I've been treated by others. I know it's natural for me to question these things and it all comes down to whether I feel strong enough to trust myself, as well as her. I reckon I do.
All this is based on so many unknowns it's almost making me laugh that I'm obsessing over things, but it's an indication of the power of emotions, interaction and hormones... it's making my brain fizz. Coupled with stress about various things - my job and how I'm so fundamentally sick of it, it almost hurts to come in every day, damaging my self-esteem and making me kick myself for not sorting something out earlier in the year; financial worries about Christmas; the idea of my daughter going away for a week over Christmas which, at first, didn't bother me but the closer it gets the more it's going to be strange not having her around... all this is causing me to feel not overloaded, but certainly like I'm carrying a weight.
My, this is all starting to sound dark and morbid. It's not supposed to, because I've met someone I like, someone who shines like the sun, and I'm on the edge of thinking about possibly maybe becoming emotionally attached, emotionally available, of opening myself up to someone special. A couple of years ago this wouldn't have been possible without freaking out, or sabotaging it; that I'm even here trying to straighten my head about it all is A Good Thing. She's a star, and if nothing else, this is proof to me that I am worthy of a star's affections.
I still occasionally shake my head in disbelief
but it's certain: I just spent four nights, almost five whole days, in the company of one of the most incredible women I've had the pleasure to share myself with. She's bright, feisty, sexy, funny, artistic, positive and audacious and I think it'll be hard, but not impossible, to click with someone so effortlessly again.
We walked, played, cooked, ate, shared, giggled, hung-out, sang, danced, joked, cried, kissed, cuddled, undressed, made lots and lots of wonderful adventurous love and didn't want it to end. She helped me regain my personal and sexual confidence and prove myself human once again. She showed me I can open my mind to emotional availability and that I am attractive, appreciated and understood. I now know that, should the right woman come along, I am worthy.
We parted on the cusp of the unspoken "L-word", a flood held back only by the impervious dam of distance. We both agreed that long-distance relationships weren't our thing, and if we were closer we'd definitely try. We're gutted that it isn't going any further - except for a liaison in January - but it's so incredibly comforting to us both that we've attracted such awesome partners. I know this sounds big-headed and this is where much of the supposed disbelief comes from, but looking into her eyes like mine, sharing a smile, a moment, a connection, I realised I am half of this, this sensational, almost perfect meeting of minds and bodies, emotions and pleasures.
It's also been an exercise in emotional restraint, and continues to be an experiment in understanding and restraining the tide of emotional attachment. I know I've fallen for her; now that she's gone there's a gap, like something intangible has been removed and I feel its absence. I told her I was falling, that I'd fallen. I wanted her to know she could be appreciated, understood; here goes... that she could be loved. She's had some bad luck in the past and I hoped to reassure her that
Along with that, I wanted to show myself that I'm open-minded enough to let someone in. I spent so much of the past thirteen years pushing people away, not allowing myself to get emotionally attached for fear of being hurt, but I found it surprisingly easy to open myself up to her. I guess this is because we've spent the past couple of years getting to know each other online and we're already familiar with each other's backgrounds and issues.We were so incredibly comfortable with each other, initially as friends but ultimately as so much more. We called each other lovers and we definitely made love: gentle, caring, reciprocal, fantastic love.
Now it's ended, we're both faced with dealing with this gap, this hole we've left in each other's lives. I wouldn't have let myself and my emotions go if I weren't confident of being strong enough to handle this process, but I'm certainly interested in my feelings and how I'm going to manage. I know I can do it, but the script is unwritten as yet. I don't want to get over it completely, just to handle it well enough to leave me stable and alleviate this yearning I'm feeling.
I will always keep her, and these few days we spent together, in my heart.
I spent a few days without hearing anything
so I assumed she was keeping her distance and moving on. This sat fine with me; we'd discussed the need to let things go and I myself was trying to move on, too. The lack of contact was a little disconcerting but I was aware that if we talked to each other as much as usual, moving on would prove to be difficult.
Regardless, it was considerably tougher than I'd hoped and I constantly found myself thinking her name, spotting reminders of our time together around the flat, and missing her in my bed when I tried to get to sleep. I had an urge to pick up my guitar and I played and sang until my fingers throbbed and throat were sore - a sure sign of an emotive me. I was in the grip of something I didn't want to admit, something I tried to hide from. I could feel hormones and catalysts and emotion and infatuation coursing through my body and I know on reflection that I was crazy to try and fight it.
The day after she left I was dulling my yearning with a bottle of cider when an opportunity presented itself, an opportunity to give someone a boost and nudge myself in the direction of moving on. In a slight haze, I asked a girl out, and went to sleep. When I awoke I had a feeling of dread that it would ultimately end up being a mistake, and I was right. Over the next few hours it dawned on me that I'd been pretty thoughtless and not taken into account the feelings of the woman I'd recently been with.
I decided to tell her, though. Our friendship thrives on clarity and honesty and our short relationship was no different. Our openness of spirit, emotion and body led us to some fantastic moments and I wanted to continue that trend, to uphold the trust. So I put together an email with my thoughts on what I'd done and waited, somewhat nervous because I was aware that it could upset her.
The moment I left work, the chat on my phone chirped and it was her. She'd emailed, I read it and my heart sank. When I thought perhaps she was coping better than me, I was wrong. She'd spent the past few days missing me and fighting with increasing emotion, just as I had.
My actions had hurt and confused her, just as I feared the would on waking. We discussed it at length and I got myself really wound up. I was horrified to have hurt her, kicking myself for being a typically insensitive and thoughtless man. I take great pride in caring about other people and not upsetting them, but I'd leapt in and disappointed someone I cared so much about. I felt like a fool.
We talked it through, though, like adults. This was amazing. I kept thinking to myself, "Where's all the cloak and dagger stuff, the hiding of emotions and actions which normal relationships run on?" but I'm pleased to find that it simply isn't necessary with this girl.
Honesty. Awesome.
So she's still a little hurt and I'm still a little confused, both by the unthoughtfulness of my actions and what the future is going to hold emotionally. I'm so pleased that we've managed to stay open and conversational throughout this, and it's something I sincerely hope we can continue.
After some discussion I thought it best if I got in touch with the girl I asked out and tell her the truth, tell her that I'd got myself emotionally entangled with someone else and that it wasn't fair on either of them if we were to meet. She ultimately responded, "mildly irked" but thankfully quite positive. I'm sure I've done the right thing here because it feels right in my gut, and I'm pleased I've been adult enough to hold my hands up and admit I was wrong.
I woke up ten minutes before my alarm
feeling tense and concerned. I think I was dreaming. The feeling's stuck with me all the way to work and despite feeling quite good and level before drifting into a heavy sleep last night, I'm still a little low and worried about yesterday's events.
I'm scared that letting loose these feelings could be dangerous. We're adults, emotive and caring and competent enough to recognise when we're falling, but these feelings are strong and persuasive and could ultimately be quite damaging for both of us. It's great, fantastic, overwhelming that we feel this way but we put barriers up initially for firm, positive reasons; that those barriers have been toppled by the strength of feeling doesn't come as a surprise, but it does concern me that we may have gone too far to make the process of getting over each other much harder than we think it might be.
Maybe we were crazy to think we could keep it under control, that we could beat the carving of thousands of years of human companionship with a little positive mental attitude. When I put it like that, it certainly seems like we were. But that doesn't stop it being one of the most fulfilling, wonderful, surprising, heavenly, fun, sexy and emotionally-charged times of my entire life. It's been such an exciting journey, getting to know you as a person instead of pixels on the screen, the intricacies of your hands and fingers, the little lines next to your eyes when you smile, the way your brow furrows when you pretend to be mad, every ridge and curve of your body, every carefully-chosen word when you tell me I'm worth the universe and more.
I don't want to stop feeling like this, but I know at some point we'll have to put the brakes on and move past our feelings for each other. I never want that to be a complete process, at least not for me. I'd like to think I could always hold a little ball of our time together, our emotions, our caring and our lovemaking, wrapped in layers of purple silk with a thick coat, hat and gloves at the back of my mind.
I want to say it. Can I say it?
Later that evening, I said it
“I think I love you.”
And I did. And I do. Right there and then, my brain was screaming for more, my heart was desperate to have her back and my head was heavy at the thought that she was so far away and we’d only have one more day together. We spent the evening talking through our feelings and getting things clear.
I’m writing this in retrospect to fill in some gaps, and I feel like I’ve told the story so many times I’m going to leave it here and let the following posts take up the reins. I think I’ve covered it in most respects, and I hope this stands as a record of the roller-coaster that was our meeting. I look forward to all the twists, loops and turns to come.
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