New

I like trying new things. I don't step outside my comfort zone much, but when I do it's nice. It's calculated, expected and nice.

I re-read some of my old blogs. It's true, I was blind. But when you are in love, that's to be expected. One should never be upset about being blind in love. What I am pleased to find is that I was also right, I was right to feel, to love! Even if it was all wrong, a complete mistake, an error of epic proportions, I don't regret feeling. I can read it all now and enjoy that I felt, felt with such intensity that the words lept from me.

What an experience! A horrible, uplifting, frightening experience, and then to open myself up to it all over again, only a hundred times worse! What a strength I must have, how worth it he must be. I could sense it the first time I saw him, a youthful eagerness. So unlike the tepid, anti-love sentiment to which I'd long been exposed.

Rawness, newness. He opened up to me mechanically, the way a flower does, programmed to change in the face of the right conditions. To be someone's conditions...to be loved. For once! The way it should be! By the book, and exactly the way I want it! And one day, I turn around and it's not me who loves but me who is scared that I love too much, that I've become his and I could one day become not-his that scares me.

It's a really wonderful kind of fear.