I am back on the southeast coast of France, and I didn’t want to write today. It’s only because he wants me to keep going. If it were up to me, I’d never leave his side in these few days we have together. It’s a romantic feeling that I know will go with time, of course, but then again. At the start of a love story, you always consider: what if this time it will really last? It’s that “what if” that causes you to dive into love again, and have an experience that we naturally want to be better than every other time before. It always feels like a little bit of a risk, and maybe that’s what makes it so exciting.
With every new love, you begin writing a new story. It starts with how you met, and then progresses page after page of discovery. The things you have in common, the differences, the opportunities to learn and see from another person’s point of view. The stability and strength that comes from knowing that you are loved, and the courage and energy that comes from doing your best to love them too. It has been a very, very long time since I’ve felt this way. But as Billy Joel said, I have been a fool for lesser things.
I like this story in particular, because it was so natural. There was no chasing or running away, no mind games or power struggle. We met, we talked, and the rest just took care of itself. It feels less like I am discovering him and more like we are discovering what was already hidden between us. Indeed, he has been in my life for the last three years, but I did not even realise it. I imagine it’s similar to finding a spring or source.
You’ve walked over the same patch of grass every day, but never took the time to dig underneath until one moment… you felt the need to touch the ground. And for no particular reason other than the pleasure of putting your hands deep within the soil. The pleasure of talking to someone whose face you have known for a while, but whose life you never knew anything about. Suddenly, you find yourself really enjoying the smell of the earth in the air as the sand gets a little softer.
Before too long, you realise that you can’t see much of the surface anymore, and you’re up to your ankles in water. Fresh, clean water, just waiting for you to discover it. That’s what meeting him feels like. Thinking back to how close I was to just remaining quiet, slipping past, invisible, as I normally do… it makes my head turn. I’m glad that I took the courage to open my mouth and speak my broken French while he stood beside me smiling and listening patiently. I don’t know much about how things will go, but I do know that I want this feeling to last as long as it can. I do know that I’ll do whatever I can to enjoy the moment. To not run too fast, to act as naturally as I can and face all the fears that come with it. When you find someone special and something special, I think it’s always worth taking the risk of stepping into the unknown.
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