(no subject)
It is too soon. It is way too soon. I have found myself in that silky realm of romance with an entirely new person who lights up an entirely different side of my heart. I can't tell if my feelings for Wes are real, or if I want these feelings so badly that I have feigned them and fooled all parties, including myself.
Everything between us works fantastically. We share books, for Christ's sake, and I often wake up laughing. He has accepted me so fully and suddenly for the things that I am, and I don't believe he's under any illusions. He knows I'm far from perfect and for the first time I don't feel the need to pretend to be. In fact, perhaps that's the thing I like best about our dynamic. Wes is almost more acquainted with my flaws than my good qualities, and likes me in spite of them. He pulled me close to him in a crowded bar, held my hands up to where we both could see and said, "I fucking love that you bite your nails!"
We do everything that sweet, well-rounded couples do. We fall asleep holding each other as close as comfort will allow, and have enough sex in enough places to keep each of us satisfied in that regard. He kisses my head when I mix up words and I buy him coffee. He explains to me the mechanics of things in this world that I'd never planned on understanding, and I graze his hair with my fingertips while he sleeps and it rains.
It makes me miss Andrew terribly. That's the awful truth of this, and isn't it exhausting? But it does. Because Wes and I go through the motions of love with such fluidity that sometimes I think I might just fall for him, but with Andrew I simply fell. I fell without any rhyme or reason to it, and yes, it ended badly, but the love was real and isn't that what matters?