beginnings.
we met through a friend, through music, through an ocean and a plan.
it's been six months, but i feel like i've known him for years.
he asks me questions, and he won't lie and say it'll be ok.
he knows better. he knows that he can't make the nightmares stop. he knows that i'll always love people that i've always loved.
he can play the guitar and lots of other things as well. he laughs when i put a pillow on his head, and he brings me chocolate bars when he knows that i'm sick and he doesn't care that they won't make me better.
i miss him when he's not there.
i didn't have a lot of answers to any of the questions that i'd spent time on. but i knew what i didn't want. then i was pretty sure that what i did want wasn't out there. i'd begun to give up hope ... well, that's not accurate. i just put hope away. i spent a lot of time alone.
you say to yourself, wow ... i need to be alone for a while. but you never actually mean it. then it happens, and you're forced to be alone for ages. months, i spent evenings alone. i read, and i wrote (for nothing other than ink to paper) like the good old days of knowing where i was going. then, the amazing thing happened. i became ok with being alone. i craved it. i loved it. i had space. i didn't care if i went out on a friday. i wandered around the back streets of this small city. i stretched my arms and cracked my neck. i had time and space. it all belonged to me.
that was what let me fall in love again.
oh, and meeting up with fate to talk about all this 'right guy' business.
