Here I go again.
Well, I actually started going down this path back in February of 2015, I just have not shared it with the world at this point. Let me get straight to the matter at hand - I have fallen in love again, and I cannot get up (and do not want to get up).
The week before Valentine's Day 2015, I decided it was time to get back into the game after my last romance had stumbled and fallen apart over the previous few months. (Thanksgiving 2014 is forever etched upon my mind as a low point on the love/relationship scale.) In the cacophony of messages, matches, winks, swipes, and nonsense, one man clearly stood out from all of the others with one simple question: a man sent me a simple message that said, "Hello. So who is your favorite science fiction author?"
The message popped up on my phone, and I actually stopped walking and stood by a tree for a moment on 23rd and Montana in Santa Monica. I was pleasantly surprised, and took a few minutes to prattle off a response, eager to engage in one of my favorite conversations. "Clarke, Boulle, Atwood, Huxley, and the guy that wrote "Altered Carbon" but I cannot think of his name at the moment."
I was immediately taken by the fact that he had not commented on my smile, or my hair, or asked what I was looking for in a relationship - he actually read what I wrote and asked something pertinent to me as an individual, as a person, as someone with a brain.That led to his earning the nickname of "the scifi author guy" whilst discussing my various potential dating candidates with my friends. (There was Tesla Dude, the skier, Long Beach COO, to name a few)
And so it began. This initial message exchange was followed by a night of pizza, karaoke, and Maker's Mark Manhattans.At karaoke, he sang the Who's "Squeezebox" and the Beatles' "Glass Onion" - both favorites of mine. A five mile hike along the crest line between Encino and Brentwood. Long conversations at Uncle Bernie's Deli. Karaoke at the Gas Light. Going to Disney. Shopping at the Farmer's Market and cooking together. Hours lost to the time warp of kissing, talking, touching, napping, exploring, laughing, tickling, staring, asking, answering, giving, taking, eating, singing, running, conspiring, planning, driving, traveling.
And I fell for him.
And I told him.
And I took the risk of telling him first.
I let my damaged, weather beaten, protected heart breathe, and on a random day in May on a random sidewalk in Encino, at about 11:00 a.m. on a random day, I leaned into his neck on tiptoe to whisper into his ear, "I am falling for you." He replied with a hug that was so strong, so enveloping, that I can still feel the lingering effects.
How could I be so foolish to fall in love again? I have been married three times, and they have not worked out. I have been in "serious" relationships other times as well. How could I trust myself to know whether I was falling in love or falling into a habit I had developed? Why was I willing to risk the pain, risk the torment, risk the chance of looking foolish again by telling him first? I imagine in retrospect it is because this time, my feelings were different. This time, my heart (which by all sensible accounts should be a jaded, atrophied, calloused rock by now) was not making choices - it was tentatively allowing itself to be touched by someone who had a way of being that was magnetic, safe, and passionate.
In June, I told him I loved him.
My romantic history has provided entertainment for my friends and family for decades. How could I tell them - AGAIN - that I was in love? The endless stream of "Promise me you will never get married again", "You know you can just live in sin, right?", "I think you do better when you are by yourself, you are happier alone." certainly did not encourage me to share the good news of my joyous discovery of this man with my closest circle. I know that they are generally coming from a place of love, concern, and care when they offer their advice, however, it still made me sad.
July 19th, he told me he loved me too.
Is it written that if you have failed at love before that there is some limited number of times that you can try? Is someone that stays for years in a relationship that makes them unhappy, depressed, or exposes them to abuse "better" or more successful at love than I am? Is there an Olympic judge panel that will assign a score to your love life at the end of it all? Just before you go through the pearly gates or get on the escalator down into hell, will you receive your "love score"? I just don't think so. If we do, I am confident that I will score pretty well in the Freestyle and Artistic categories....I imagine my score in the Compulsories will be low.
All I know is that I love men. I love the idea of having a partner on this journey. I love the idea of love. I have earnestly ventured into all of my relationships regardless of how they have ended. I certainly have taken risks, maybe more so than others have, and I do not regret it.
My Mom defended me at a Family Reunion last year when some cousins jumped on the "Promise us you will never get married again" bandwagon. When I said, "No - I will not make a promise I cannot keep. I am only 47 and I plan on living to be 100 - a lot can happen in over 50 years" my Mom followed up with this:
"When you have found the love of your life, like I did with Jay, you stop looking. Your heart is satisfied. When you haven't found the love of your life yet....you feel compelled to keep looking." She smiled and looked me in the eye with that glance of motherly understanding.
And so I have kept my love under wraps for the past 10 months, wanting to avoid the judgment, the questions, the commentary - whether out of concern or out of ridicule. But today, December 5, 2015, I awoke feeling inspired to share it. This time, it feels different. This time, it works differently. This time...this time.........this time, I believe it when he tells me he loves me for who I am, and how I think, and what I do. This time, I love the man he is and not my romanticized version of him.
My heart....my ability to love.....it takes a licking and keeps on ticking.
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