I think my feelings may be laying me low as I revisit an area of life I have left far, far behind me. Although I do not subscribe to aging, I believe everyone is ageless until they fall prey to other people’s comments, I thought I was immune to this. Love. Not agape, but intimate and all consuming crazy feelings and thoughts. I don’t believe Love found Andy Hardy; I believe it smashed him. You’re so crazy with the feelings you don’t want to even consider this Boulder called Love is actually doing fatal damage to your person or personality!
I’ve been pursued by the best of them, but this is the first time he represented so much of what I never thought was possible, dream lover, if you will. I want to be there where he is, where his neck is, his hair, hands, lips—-aargh it’s un-functionally frustrating! I can’t even talk to him when my mind starts shredding at my actions and ridiculousness. He tells me to just fall… Well, he’s the one who shoved me over the edge and literally evicted me from my nights of calm, study, or the occasional horror flick to help me sleep. After the one, the BK (private reference, my apologies) there are just some things—I don’t want to sleep I just want to hear his voice, and I must admit see him. If he lived in the same town I’d be in hopeless trouble. There’s still shards of reason hiding in safe corners of my mind waiting for the best moment to escape to safe harbor, where my logic usually stands watch. Why I think my mom and dad sent him to me I cannot say. It was definitely not just my mom or my dad but both of them. It came to me about the second day I felt myself losing touch.
So many things have changed for me in the past couple months. I stopped all medication by the human traffickers from the HosPrison after a second, horrific, albeit much abbreviated, stay. Amazingly my ankles are tiny, as in no swelling what so ever, I’ve dropped weight and my energy is almost completely normal. I cut my hair extremely short and I love touching my hair all the time, plus I think I am cute for the first time in many years. Of course this paramour loves my hair and thinks it could go shorter. (He knows all the right things to say to one who has never cared about compliments). Even the thing with the compliments, I’m not prone to them and find them rather embarrassing most of the time. It seems to be an obstacle more than anything and yet, I find him so delicious in his looks, his mannerism, even how he smokes cigarettes/cigars with a swagger. I don’t give him compliments to win him over, they just come as I watch him and long to touch every danger spot. After the first few days of no sleep for both of us (more him than me, due to his work ours etc.) I am too spoiled to react steady. I want to talk, I want time, and I want more than I safely feel comfortable with, yet there be no quelling these intense urges. I know he needs sleep, I know he needs to spend time with his family (dad and grandpa), clients and there just isn’t much room for the spoiled freak on the other side of the screen. I have had too many years with a long distance relationship and I swore I would not go there again. I had declared my choice to seek in town trouble within the next 6 months when he arrived on the scene screwing everything up! I guess the best that can be said about it all is I haven’t closed up shop in that arena of my life. Maybe that’s all I was to get out of this—remember I am a woman and need to pay attention to those needs as well as my Big D completion.