My heart feels all warm and gooey right now. Last time I felt this way was circa 2000. But my body vividly remembers this deliciously tortuous feeling when hours of productivity are squandered away daydreaming, dissecting the meaning of each moment spent together and living in anticipation of the next time. I’m such a girl. But it’s also that unnerving immersion back into the unknown; the yet unspoken thus nebulous period in a relationship when you’re not even sure if it’s quite a “relationship”. When you’re still unclear of each other’s intentions, if any. All you know is how it feels in the moment... under his gaze, in his arms. Whatever this is, it's hard to trust what I’m feeling after being duped by "love" so many times in the past. I’m not even sure if my intuition and gut are trustworthy anymore, even though they feel in synch for the first time in years. The desire for vulnerability is haunting me but the bravery it requires feels paralyzing. Call me gun shy but I’m totally freaked out about having my emotions not reciprocated only to prove, once again, my naivetee when it comes to matters of the heart. What I fear is that my sense of “desire” might be dulling my sense of reality. What if he’s just not into me? What if I’m a temporary diversion... or just one of many? It doesn’t feel that way when we’re together but the thought of being wrong once again after almost five years of intensive heart healing work is completely, well, disheartening.
Adding to my confusion is the fact that past long-term relationships have always been delirously hot and heavy from the get-go, with near instant proclamations of love and claims of lasting intentions. I’m used to loud, unabashed and obvious emotions, not the quiet ones that are hard to decipher. I’m accustomed to being swept up in heart fluttering flirtation and submerged in the kind of passion that rendered me lovesick and intuitively impaired. But whatever this is happening to me right now seems, at best, cautiously intense; with the steady pace of a marathon runner rather than the explosive energy of a sprinter. I’m not used to slow and steady. It creates far too much space for fear and self-doubt when what I really want is clarity and truth. But even if the truth is exactly what I want to hear, there’s still that lingering fear of opening my heart to someone that might not love, respect and appreciate it over time. That’s my unfortunate relationship pattern. So the idea of another catastrophic hearbreak is mortifying. No matter how much I crave the possibility of such raw love, deep intimacy and passion, it feels like a monstrously huge risk. But a painfully tempting one nonetheless.
So far, our time spent together feels like a magically organic mix of mental and physical chemistry, shared values and vision, and endorphin highs I haven’t experienced in what feels like forever. Conversation feels as fluid and natural as being entangled in him. His spirit lingers and inspires me even when we’re not together. But beneath the calm surface lies a bit of angst. Perhaps because we’re both managing symptoms of Post Marital Stress Disorder. I know I’m still stuck wondering whether age and experience have garnered me the genuine wisdom necessary to attract who and what I really deserve in love. And, if so, is he that person? Or is he just like the rest? Is he just another decoy on the way to my destiny; a test to assess whether or not I’m ready for the lasting love and partnership I ultimately want? And, if this is a test, am I already blind to the red flags that might be waving furiously as unmistaken warning signals? Am I a better judge of character yet? Have I developed enough as an Indie Girl to continually honor and respect my needs in a relationship if that’s what this becomes? Am I strong enough to not forfeit my integrity for the sake of falling love?
