Monday, the 23rd. Today is two months since Eliza spent the night with me… when we collided together. What a night that was. We talked, kissed, talked, kissed, and the sun came up and we continued to talk and kiss and touch each other. We wanted each other but we held off, just off… just out of reach but we kept reaching. I remember the look in her eyes and the burning in my skin and the amazing sensation that rippled through my body when we finally crossed that line and entered into each other’s country. Amazing, phenomenal… beautiful!
Last month we had dinner, drank wine and sat near each other. Hesitancy, fear, hope, and love mixed together and filled our hearts with a strange, wonderful, twisting brew. We looked into each other’s eyes and toasted, kissed and drank wine. It was good… it was a perfect moment. Four more weeks and we’ve had some tests. But in that testing we’ve also had to expose our fears. This is a bad thing if done in an environment without love… but there is love here and in doing thus we’ve grown.
But does it feel like four more weeks? It doesn’t feel like two months. When I kiss her I still want to feel her lips as much as I can because her touch delights me. It is the honest truth that often when I kiss her I will lose my sense of balance and begin to sway. We’ve jokingly made it a rule that we cannot kiss on a cliff’s edge. Today I was running my hand along the skin of her back and it was like the first time I’d touched her. As I so often do, I marvelled at the smoothness of her skin, the warmth, and the sound of her breath as she lay sleeping. She’ll say something and emphasis it with a dorky look or a grin and I’ll laugh at her, loving her. Today in the store I heard her a few aisles away. Her energy and spirit fills a room even as large as a grocery store.
I had not planned on anything tonight because I had thought I had to work. I cannot afford another dinner like I did last month. I am at a loss. For the couple days prior to today I thought of things I could do. Yet when the day finally arrives we are asleep… sleeping late due to a very late night together and I was rushing to get dressed and back to her with coffee and get her up so that we could make an appointment she had. The appointment done with we were running errands and before you knew it we were at the grocery store with a friend of hers, buying food for a get together of people. Earlier in the I had noticed and purchased a small “mini-book” filled with inspirational quotes for women in it. It reminded me of her and so I got it for her. I am feeling somewhat bad that I did not get a large bouqet of flowers for her or take her out to dinner for today, but I also think that I am not that bad of a guy because I am always thinking of her and will do lots of little things for her. Hopefully she thinks the same as well.
She’s off right now. Out to visit friends and I have a roomful of books calling me. Jung’s Symbols of Transformation is calling me, as is Moore’s Care of the Soul. Perhaps some simple poetry. It just occured to me that poetry is like espresso, a smaller yet compact sampling of feeling and thought. Read a treatise and explore all different angles of something, or read a well crafted poem that draws heavily upon meaning and cultural experience.
I not really in the mood for writing, my thoughts too choppy to write with any flow. But I had to take a moment to note this two month milestone. Important? To most others… no. To me… yes. Why? Because I can count on one hand the number of girls that I’ve dated for more than two months. Add to this the amount of contact that we’ve had, either day to day or intimate or just running errands, and Eliza has passed everyone else in all categories. Eileen was over two months, so was Gin and Kat. Each one was near and dear to my heart. The love that I have for Eliza is mature and both simple and complex. I am not saying that it is perfect, because I am only human and still have emotional reactions and issues. Yet beneath my insecurities and doubts and fears of the past and the neuroses of my mind, there is this simple love for her that is still there.
It doesn’t feel like two months. It feels likes the first day that I’ve really met her, and yet it is beginning to feel like I’ve been with her for a long time. She is deepening the roots of friendship into my heart, someting that only occurs in time not the fires of passion.
I still feel like I am the luckiest man in the world.