(Finally got my LJ password again)
Wow. Wow, wow wow. Everything is amazing. Everything is stellar. Everything's really, really beautiful. Wow.
I got that French manicure. I think I rather like it. I also rather like this living by myself business, punctuated nicely with weekend visits from a certain man from Sacramento who treats me...well, like nobody's ever treated me before, AND helps me put together furniture and take care of heavy lifting, and then on Sunday night, he leaves his shirts behind so I can mend missing buttons, and he goes back to work for the week, and I...gasp...I have four days of living by myself and taking care of errands and reading books and doing projects and being with friends.
I have never lived alone, and I'm telling you, I'm savoring it. That's not to say I mean for it to last forever - I still have the same goals and aspirations as I did before. It's just that there's this feeling of safety that comes from sitting and writing and looking out an 11th storey window where you're safe and delighted and loved and warm that slows your mind way down into the moment, and you look at yourself and you think, "Well, now, isn't this something?" And finding myself in that position, I'm discovering that it's something I need to say to myself out loud: I wasn't lying when I said I needed some time to make sure I have my life in order before I commit it to someone else. Call it psychobabble if you want, but these eager, forward-looking butterflies in the pit of my stomach are telling me I'm doing everyone and myself a great service by slowing down to savor my time alone.
Carl is a wonderful, funny, attentive, and loving man. I love it when he is here and I look forward to it all week...but I am taking the time, this time, to make sure my inner world is in order, rather than seeking my knowledge of self from without. For once and for whatever reason, I'm not running toward the finish line. There is no finish line. There is just me and my happy life and making sure that I am really, truly the best person I can be in order to be worthy of anyone's affections in the long haul.
In other words, I want to go slowly, and speaking as the girl who's been teased about being the Elizabeth Taylor of Burning Man, there's no doubt that I'm very interested in this new sensation, and I want to give it room. It's a very promising and very delightful feeling to have. After having, in essence, no home since last June, really, I am positively ecstatic to be here enjoying my first taste of solo living, and getting my feet back under me mentally, financially, and emotionally. Of course I'm not stupid. I'm keeping that man. I'm just trying to do him a favor and make sure I'm really someone he wants to hang onto too.
I guess you could say I'm having a really good time.
I got that French manicure. I think I rather like it. I also rather like this living by myself business, punctuated nicely with weekend visits from a certain man from Sacramento who treats me...well, like nobody's ever treated me before, AND helps me put together furniture and take care of heavy lifting, and then on Sunday night, he leaves his shirts behind so I can mend missing buttons, and he goes back to work for the week, and I...gasp...I have four days of living by myself and taking care of errands and reading books and doing projects and being with friends.
I have never lived alone, and I'm telling you, I'm savoring it. That's not to say I mean for it to last forever - I still have the same goals and aspirations as I did before. It's just that there's this feeling of safety that comes from sitting and writing and looking out an 11th storey window where you're safe and delighted and loved and warm that slows your mind way down into the moment, and you look at yourself and you think, "Well, now, isn't this something?" And finding myself in that position, I'm discovering that it's something I need to say to myself out loud: I wasn't lying when I said I needed some time to make sure I have my life in order before I commit it to someone else. Call it psychobabble if you want, but these eager, forward-looking butterflies in the pit of my stomach are telling me I'm doing everyone and myself a great service by slowing down to savor my time alone.
Carl is a wonderful, funny, attentive, and loving man. I love it when he is here and I look forward to it all week...but I am taking the time, this time, to make sure my inner world is in order, rather than seeking my knowledge of self from without. For once and for whatever reason, I'm not running toward the finish line. There is no finish line. There is just me and my happy life and making sure that I am really, truly the best person I can be in order to be worthy of anyone's affections in the long haul.
In other words, I want to go slowly, and speaking as the girl who's been teased about being the Elizabeth Taylor of Burning Man, there's no doubt that I'm very interested in this new sensation, and I want to give it room. It's a very promising and very delightful feeling to have. After having, in essence, no home since last June, really, I am positively ecstatic to be here enjoying my first taste of solo living, and getting my feet back under me mentally, financially, and emotionally. Of course I'm not stupid. I'm keeping that man. I'm just trying to do him a favor and make sure I'm really someone he wants to hang onto too.
I guess you could say I'm having a really good time.