Have you ever found yourself meeting someone for the first time again and again. My first thought in this situation is to believe the person has changed, but perhaps not. Perhaps I have changed. Then again there is this. Perhaps it is not my change nor his, but how his perceptions of me have changed until mine flowed around his anew and took that shape themselves? Hmmm, I’m such a pain in the ass with my melodramatic meanderings of the mind.
I confess I am just an analytical person at heart, and I like things mentally tidy. A place for everything and everything in it’s place. But I now have a man who over flows ever cubby or nook I try to tuck him in. He breaks all barriers, knocks down walls, and stands there with his heart on his sleeve looking proud to be there amidst the rubble of my good intentions and self defenses. Isn’t he beautiful? Sight unseen the most gorgeous of men? I can never decide which I like the most, his hands holding mine, his hands holding my heart, or the granite ice of his eyes with the fragility of a butterfly inside them.
Gad I’m in a state tonight I guess. I can smell him in my home right now, that must be it.
It sounds like lurve. 🙂