Oh dear, dear piece of paper and pen. I feel like right now, you are the only one I can talk to. Slightly dramatic, but still overwhelmingly true. I need a space to write this out, free these truths, figure out what to do. My face hurts. Literally. Like it is tender to the touch and I appreciate the pain because he was the cause. His personality, his wisdom, his everything, causes my face to hurt, and I like it. I’m curious about him. A curiosity that makes me play hide and seek then run back to make sure he didn’t leave. But he’s here. Right here. He didn’t want to let me get off of the phone tonight. Racking his brain for ways to extend the lifeline holding us together, both of us walking away full and content, and warm. Good night my love. My like. Love feels too strong. For the first time, I want to take it slow, because I like you. I do. Because you are aware of my need to feel safe with you. Aware and willing to speak softly, tread lightly, create an availability for me to settle in to you and speak. Thank you and good night. I know I have already greeted you in your dreamland fantasies, now I will close my eyes and wait for you to greet me, too.
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