There's been a bit of upheaval in my life, and I only just decided that I would start blogging again. I don't know if anyone still reads here or even remembers it, but I thought it would be cathartic and besides, I'm starting to get back into taking photos regularly and this is as good as place as any to display them.
Six months ago, I went and met someone and lost my head. Again.
I didn't see it coming. A year of painful, unsuccessful online dating (one guy emailed me about the female orgasm after the first date) was enough to make me swear off men forever. And just as I was starting to appreciate the solitude, my whole life tilted violently on its axis.
Of my last relationship, the one that ended in a heartbreak I thought I would never recover from, I talked constantly. After years of having my guard up, I was so determined to experience and live it fully that I waxed lyrical to anyone who would listen.
This time, I am frightened beyond words. In six months, I don't think I've truly talked about any of this with more than a couple of friends. I am dumbfounded by the thought of explaining things to my family in detail. My standard answer whenever people ask me things is, "I can't answer that right now." Because there are a lot of things that I don't dare to say but I will say this: against my will and better judgement, I'm in love. And if you've ever been in love second, third, tenth time around, you know just how terrifying it is. You understand what it's like to worry that it's going to sour or disappear any second, just like the fourth time, the fifth, the seventh. You've felt the way your heart quickens in the late night darkness when doubt is your only bedfellow. You know just what I mean.
The thought of having to get to know someone new and growing and learning together all over again can be anxiety-inducing. This isn't my first go-round. I know what happens at the end and how difficult things can be.
What can I say though? It happened. I'm in love, and he is wonderful. He was single for a long time too, and things took some getting used to. After all, we're both older, more wary and all too aware of how things could go. But that also makes us more careful, more gentle, more willing to try. In the last half year, we've managed to weather death, job issues, disappointment. Every day, I'm working on being more practical too, teaching my head to balance out my heart.
Unlike the last time, when I naïvely trumpeted the idea that things would spin out into a dream future, I am now more circumspect, the caginess of a dog kicked one too many times. But you know what they say: if it's worth having, it's worth fighting for. And something tells me this is absolutely worth fighting for.
I know that he understands. "I'm scared," he said suddenly to me one night. He tucked his chin into my shoulder and I felt the kind of butterflies I had forgotten even existed. I took his hand, large and warm in mine.
"It's okay. I'm scared too. We can be scared together."
