A few months back I found myself deep in an unexpected relationship. From nowhere it came, swept me off my feet, took off my boots and massaged by toes while calling me Queen Bee. I couldn’t help help but question – is it love? or is it merely the mirrored reflection of one who has sought love so so long and who has simply found someone else equally open and ready to be loved? Are we both just in love with the idea of love?
And yet I found myself at home with this person. Truly myself and yet, slightly awed that someone would find me awesome. He is – well he is everything. Complicated, passionate, scattered, focused, equally smart and simple, loving and yet sometimes strangely distant. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel loved, I like spending time with him, and yet I’m perfectly content to be alone without him.. secure in the knowledge that he’ll return. Is this really what I’ve been seeking and am shrinking in its recognition? It seems so, yet based on life’s trajectories I can’t help wrestle with whether its really real. Is it meaningful? Does it need to be? Can it grow to be? And yet and yet.. all this good can’t be true. It’s an embarrassment of riches. I kept asking myself -Is it real? Will it blow itself out? Will we – as we have both done in the past – fuck it up? If I were younger I wouldn’t know enough to question it – I’d be madly thinking of all that I needed to be in order to make him love me. What I needed to change. How I could inure myself to him. Instead I am just me. And he keeps returning with a smile in his eyes and a warm touch. Maybe it will be a passing fancy. Maybe it really is the one I’ve wondered about and every crappy Disney song warbled about. He talks about rings and marriage, being together and walking the next 40 together. He plans trips and schedules our Thanksgiving, our Christmas together. I meet the parents. So I can only go with it and try to protect my heart a little as history has taught me. If it blows itself out, I will just have the knowledge that light really can reach places never previously lit.
Three weeks later he stopped returning my calls and I’ve not heard from him since. Goes to show. At 40, you’re still 15.