I can’t describe what it feels like to feel something for you. The push and pull of emotions between us keeps me on my toes, and sometimes it’s so overwhelming that I panic and over-analyze. But when I’m cuddled up next to you, my anxieties about the future wash away. You’ve taught me so much in the short time that we’ve been near each other, but perhaps the most important thing you’ve taught me is that it’s okay to live slow. My concept of time has shifted in a very positive way, and my fear about not being enough of something by some obscure age has disappeared. You could care less about gray hairs or a full night’s rest, and that’s what makes me so crazy about you. You are freedom to me. You are light. You teach me to breathe easier. I’ve never felt so much affection for someone without feeling the same raw, desperate passion that ate me alive in past relationships. Being with you, I feel whole, on my own, and we are like these two whole individuals just basking and sharing in the appreciation of one another. I don’t have to sacrifice vital parts of my soul just to be near you, and it’s the happiest feeling I’ve known.
Even if it doesn’t work out for some reason, I know I will never look back on this point in my life and feel bitterness or pain - thank you for that.
I can’t sleep. My mind is stirring, I can’t stop pacing, and I’m biting my nails again (a habit I broke years ago). My feelings are completely tangled up and I’ve been trying to pull them free, line by line. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know which feelings are which. My heart is running hot and cold for this new, wonderful guy I’ve found… and for my ex.
The trouble is that I know I’m over him. I can rattle off a list of all the things he did wrong by me, the atrocities, the heartache, all of it. He and I were never meant to make it work, period. But caring for someone else - developing feelings for someone else, it’s stirring up a lot of old memories that I’d long forgotten. When I close my eyes and snuggle against the chest of this unfamiliar person, all I can see are the green walls of my old bedroom, my 19 year-old self cuddling and laughing with my ex, our dog at the foot of my bed, the smell of summer and excitement and the utter fear of falling for him. I was scared back then. As it turns out, I’m still scared now. Scared to move on, scared to forget, scared to let go of the sweet moments we shared all those years ago.
I’ve never done this. Every time I develop new feelings, I smother them in utero. I’ve been more comfortable with one-night stands than with feeling anything even remotely intense for any man that isn’t Alex.
So I’m trying to tell myself that it’s okay. And even if this new thing fizzles out, it’s worth a try. I’m allowing myself to feel exactly how I want to feel, but I’m not allowing myself to panic. It’s panic that holds me back, and it’s panic that keeps me in his grasp, even though I don’t want him anymore.
I’m trying so hard to breathe. And it hurts like all hell.