Love hits you at unexpected moments--moments like this one, when I'm sitting in my room by myself, listening softly to music, winding down for bed, trying to crimp one last necklace clasp into place, not thinking of anyone or anything in particular. A few words in a song trigger the realization that I've seen the one I love for less than four hours in the last nine days, and even though life has kept me more than adequately occupied and satisfied, right now I'd give anything just to lie down next to him and drift off to sleep.
I suppose most of the time I am quite good at doing my thing--working hard, and in my too-scant free time pursuing one of many outside interests. Sometimes, though, sometimes when I least expect it, this feeling in my chest or the pit of my stomach will take over and remind me that I'm deeply connected to someone else. Despite my best effort to control it, to make light of it and not act like I take it too seriously, moments like these make me realize that this relationship means more to me than most anything else. Somewhere in the course of the last two years I did let go and let myself love without holding my breath. It's hard to fully articulate, but when these feelings hit me, I probably feel the most scared, and at the same time the most grateful to have someone like him in my life.
