I noticed recently that the initialization of the title of this blog is "tome." Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines "tome" as "a volume forming a part of a larger work." To me, that's a pretty apt description of this blog. What I've been describing is a cross-section, a segment of time which is part of the larger work that is my life. Someday, this volume will close, as this part of my life comes to an end. Maybe at that time I'll begin another tome. There's always more to write.
But I didn't come here to write about that.
Isn't falling in love wonderful? I'm not saying I have, but I've been reexamining my history of relationships, and remembering the journey of falling in love. There's the moments, when you feel a new connection, when you're sitting on a porch, watching the moon travel across an empty sky, and you work up the nerve to put your arm around the one you're with. It starts getting cold, but you don't want to leave, and you remember that you can just get closer. It's a beautiful thing, and I'm looking forward to it again.
Sure, as soon as you open up, you just make yourself vulnerable again. You set yourself up for another fall. I've spent a lot of time questioning if I'd ever try to open up again; if I'd even be able to trust someone again. But I've seen that guy. I don't want to be the fifty year old, desperately alone, pretending everything's okay, hiding behind a lifestyle of drinking and anonymous sex. That's not a life I want to live.
I had a beautiful evening yesterday, and you know who you are. Thank you. Some of you are going to want to know more. All in due time. That's another volume in the larger work that is my life. So, I'm moving forward with extreme trepidation; I'm scared of the prospect of being hurt again, but I know I have to take that chance.
What do you get when you fall in love? You only get lies and pain and sorrow. So far at least until tomorrow, I'll never fall in love again.
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