It's been so long since I've written anything honest anywhere, much less here on this ... what shall I call this space? It seems to be more important -- to me, my friends, only to me -- than a "blog," yet not vulnerable or risky enough to be a journal. Ah, but it is self-indulgent, nonetheless!

But I digress.

The point is, time has passed. And I have managed to be uncourageous, for the most part.

Recently, I've been getting mixed signals from a man who is fairly new to my life. He's actually not someone that I would normally bother myself with, as he is existing in a world of which I know very little, and for which I have no real affinity. It's a very movers-n-shakers kind of place, altho' he personally came out of the proverbial rat race some time ago. Still, he lives in a world of gourmet this and designer that.

It makes me uncomfortable.

And then there are the moments such as yesterday, where he comes up behind me, slides his arms around my waist, leans into my back, and nuzzles the hollow where my clavicle meets my throat. Feeling him there, wrapped into me so perfectly, I find myself melding to the shape he is holding. And then he speaks clearly, intimately into my left ear: "You knew it was me. You just let it happen. You knew it was me. I love you for that."

And in that moment, I cannot say anything at all, because either it is all a lie, and I will disappoint this man who is experiencing a perfect moment, or it is all true, and I cannot fathom how something so easy and natural could be real.

I am at a loss.