I’ve Been Having an Affair. It’s Time to Kiss and Tell.
As you know, in my last post I admitted to you that I have been having a love affair and that it is one of the most delicious and satisfying experiences I’ve had. In fact, I’m pretty excited to tell you everything. Seems odd, doesn’t it? Typically affairs are hush-hush, furtive side glances, and furrowed brows. I, on the other hand, want to shout to anyone around about mine.
My First Love
Let’s back up a bit. Six years ago, I met my first love and it rocked my world. I didn’t anticipate it, and perhaps that’s where some of the magic lay. I had different ideas for myself and what I wanted before we met. I had plans, more or less. It happened anyway. That first love radiated light everywhere around me, showered me with gifts, and healed past aches. It was transformative in the way only first loves can be. I keep it safe in my memory, in my body, and on my face still.
My first love was wild and kind and wise. It was playful and intriguing, brimming with music and mirth and late nights together. There were many ‘firsts’ and uncountable smiles. I gave everything I could, though I was the lucky one, enveloped in all its charm and wit. All these years later my expression still exudes the elation I feel when discussions of it surface. I will always love my first love, even as I live my third love now. It is why my third love feels like an affair, and then I remind myself they can all hold space in my heart.
I was not prepared for my first love to end when it did. Its time was up, in some ways that is for sure, but I was not ready. I held on. I closed up. I was resistant to moving on. The aftermath was tough and then life moved forward. I chose to move forward too.
My Second Love
My second love arrived shortly after the first. Love number two was amiable, good-natured, and easy. We met in the late fall and life took off pretty quickly. I remember most the summer days we spent together, exploring and eating and feeling the sun on our skin. There was less music, which I longed for, and still do, I must admit. Instead, we frequently delighted over exotic feasts. Fortunately I am as tickled by sensations on my tongue as I am in my ear.
Evenings together were spent surrounded with our loved ones playing games and sharing homemade potlucks. It was different and perfect. We fell into a fantastic rhythm of never-ending energetic plans and I was almost truly happy. Part of me still longed for my first love, holding on too tight to the past. The rest of me eased into this new version of contentment.
Ten months later our relationship changed when I moved. It’s always me that leaves. I wasn’t ready for that relationship to be finished either but my feet were tied by choice and circumstance, as life goes. We stayed in touch, both of us making the effort, but it’s not the same when you occupy different spaces. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but what is out of sight is most certainly also out of mind. People drift apart, routines change, and despite our efforts to meet up from time to time, the rhythm lost its beat.
We reunited for a few months the next summer. It was wonderful and we packed in as much as we could, knowing our time together would be brief. Then I left again.
My Third Love
Now, I feel confident in saying I have lived and am living my third love. I am older, so it is different. The butterflies are fewer and less delirious, perhaps because I recognize them when they begin and we learn to quell our emotions as we get older. Why do we do that to ourselves as we age? Certainly you know what I mean – how the butterflies change over time. Those first butterfly flurries are pure ecstasy. The thumping in your stomach and chest, the nervous sweaty palms and aching cheeks from smiling so fully – that, is the definition of living. I digress.
This third love of mine, I have taken ownership of. I have consciously contributed as much to its direction as I have been along for the ride. There is something exciting about hopping in the driver’s seat together. I used to love being whisked up in romance’s unknowns, though now I enjoy taking hold of the wheel as well. Our interdependence has given me space and support. It has provided me a stronger belief in myself, in love, and in making things happen in the world. It is what excites me most about our relationship.
And yet, we will be coming to an end, or at least a pause, a shift, a turn in the road. In my head and my heart, it is not our ending. We will be together again soon, sooner than the other loves. We are just getting our groove, digging in and making our mark together. Choice and convenience are butting heads again and I must go, at least for a little while. In the meantime, I’m going to squeeze this affair with all of my energy, love, and passion. With luck, it will tide us over until I return. Only time will tell, and the distance it covers.