Attachment doesn’t seem to be such a bad thing. Not in this case and contrary to my past experiences.
I met him over six years ago. We could best be described as friends with benefits and something more. I could never quite put my finger on it. It would come to me in bits and pieces as I processed the various relationship and romantic trauma that I had long accepted as normal. Our relationship was revealing that it was not a version of normal that I had to accept. It was showing me that I was damaged, but not beyond repair.
I’ve told the story of us a hundred times and I could tell it a million times more. We met during my divorce. It was short and sweet. Then just like that I was gone, but we kept in touch. Whenever I returned, he’d drop everything for me. He was certainly consistent and I adored this quality in him.
I love many things about him yet years would pass before I’d fall in love with him…before we’d fall in love with one another and at the exact same time. Divine timing…We can both pinpoint the exact moment when it hit us. We were sitting on the stoop of a hotel on Miami Beach. This place knows us well.
Before meeting him, I felt like most guys were creeps. In their approach, I always felt like they wanted something or they were out to get something from me. It’s like grazing antelopes, they don’t see the predator yet they can sense that it’s there. I never felt any of that with him. His interest in me was genuine and without expectations and best of all, it was mutual. A rare combination for me.
I always wanted to be with him. I’d ditch anything and everything for him. He didn’t know that though. Why? Because I knew he’d cater to my every desire. He took care of me in every way, not just sexually. He’d listen to me ramble on and on about everything and nothing. Silences were often but never awkward. This happened from the beginning and it still is today. It didn’t take 90 days. It didn’t take years. I never once felt that I needed to somehow prove myself worthy. It was instant.
Soulmates, twinflames, you call it. I don’t care to. I’m in it and I’m in joy in it. My mind can’t make sense of us and I don’t even entertain why. He reminds me of me and I love me so much. I laugh at all the ways we are alike. Fortunately, I understand mySelf and I have grown to have compassion for myself. I am able to very easily extend that compassion to him. We put the fun in dysfunctional at times and I’m so ok with that. I check my temperature often. I ask myself am I ok.
I say things out loud just for a sound check. Like…how the hell does that sound? Does that even make sense? Is it even supposed to? It just feels so damn good mentally, spiritually, physically, and emotionally.
After all this time of contemplating. Trying to figure out what it is and why it is I’m feeling…we’re feeling but mostly my feelings…he can make sense of his own feelings. It was simple. With him I feel safe; with him I feel protected; I feel wanted; I feel…I feel cared for and loved. Love real and true; through and through. He never asked me to trust him; I just do.
This was once a thing I took for granted until my mother ascended. I know what it’s like to live in a world where no one is looking out for you; no one is checking in and making sure you’re good. They’re just assuming you are or they’re just watching you. For what, I have no clue.
He tells me, “We’re friends remember, there isn’t too much I don’t know about you so there’s nothing you could say to make me go away.” I believe him. I’m a wild, wild woman and we were indeed friends prior to all of this and he was my ear as I worked to sort things out.
I am in love with the fact that he never had to show up for me…never, but he did. Every single time, he showed up. Even way back then before we fell in love. But he did more than show up…he cultivated a space for me to feel safe, to feel protected. As simple as this seems, I’ve not had this with anyone else except my mother. Now that shit is crazy.
I trust him with my life…complete faith and no expectations. Sounds crazy, I know, but my soul has never been wrong.
When we’re asleep, he wakes throughout the night to kiss me and tell me that he loves me. We fall asleep tangled like a pretzel since the first time we slept together. I remember waking in his arms and thinking…Wow! We slept like that all night. We lie together just breathing each other’s air. Morning sex be bomb as fuck every single time.
PDA is our jam. We are constantly feeling each other up in checkout lines, giggling with one another as we share pictures and messages on our phones. We walk with his hand in my back pocket, arm in arm, hand in hand, fingers intertwined. He’s always kissing me: forehead, nose, lips. I don’t ever want to be without this feeling. Ever, ever.
This ain’t new love. This is true love. Made from the stars, cosmic black and blue love.
When we’re together, it’s easy to choose love no matter how foolish it might seem.