the only gut gushing post you will ever see on this blog

I've lived three very different places, each 3,000 miles away from each other or more....and thought about him. I spoke new languages and unknowingly ate blood sausage and layed on the beach and kissed boys to prove to myself that I am an independant woman...and thought about him. And I've mourned and I've partied and I've strengthened my relationships with my best friends...and I thought about him. I met people I could love and I kept my distance. Because I was thinking about him. I've been a free person wandering and learning, making it a priority to myself to stay that way. I've valued this sense of liberation from all things tying me down. I am dancing with my uncertainty. I am running around breathlessly happy, endlessly energetic, 7 feet tall! and then we have lunch. Just lunch. And I'm 2 inches again...and I'm paralyzed with the uncertainty.

I wish I could tell someone that he's just a person I barely know. Ah, yes, him...we met once or twice, it was fun. I could say that. I've even said it to myself a few times. But I can never seem to make eye contact or drown out the voice telling me I'm wasting my time with that false truth. Because that liberation?? It's really only as far as him. I don't need to find my footing with him, I don't have a rare disease of which his love is the only antidote, I don't need Webster to put his picture next to my name. I just need him. After a long time of putting myself first and figuring it out, I'm actually allowed to say that. I'm allowing MYSELF to break an uncrackable, super humanly strong image I've created for myself...to admit that I want someone...and that I'm not sure that I will ever get it. ...And in that, finding a peace with the inevitable.