Butterflies in my stomach have reappeared. The heart knows, but the mind doubts, questions, guesses. Muddled and confused by words, yet certain of genuine feelings. Perplexed by perceived contradictions, yet convinced of synchronicities. Paralysed by fear, yet willing to submit to love.
Love of the self IS love of another. Expectations of another demeans, degrades and destroys. Lightness desires to shine, but the mind eclipses.
I watch my best friend spiral insanely as she is pushed and pulled; and I follow her, two steps behind. Forewarned does not preclude slipping into the same trap. Previewing helps recognise and acknowledge the experience, but I still have to process it in my own way.
We are both ending long term relationships. We are both mesmerised by men we barely know, by men who are, for all appearances sake, “unavailable”. Is it because we have not yet freed ourselves? Is the fear of free-falling too great? And both of us stand on the cusp of this free fall.
Leap of faith. Jump.
And we are jumping. It’s the only way to ensure long term survival.
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