3213 Days Since, 24 Left Until

CONTACT!

And again the focus of this blog changes. And again my mood, demeanor, and outlook completely changes. An hour ago, life was bad, horrible, hostile, and lonely. Now, life is good, uplifting, and full of promise.

Yeah, I talked to her. Beth. God, I hate writing that name. I know why I picked it, but I'd still prefer to use her real name, shout it from the mountaintops. Anonymous love is for glory holes and chat rooms. My heart is intimate.

Every fear I had is now quieted down. Not put to rest, just hammered down with Nyquil and Valium into a comfortable (and hopefully prolonged) snooze. And that's OK with me. If it weren't so hard and unpredictable, would the reward be as sweet? If this were guaranteed, would it be as exciting, would holding her in my arms be as worth it?

It should be noted, too, that today was the 9th anniversary of the first time we made love. I had arrived up north the night before, twilight still barely in the sky at 1 AM on the Summer Solstice. The next day, she came over, still shy, nervous, and 17 years old. I was 25.

She turned 18 three days later, and it had been my attention to wait, but after six months of phone conversations and letters, once she was in my arms I could not wait. It was sweet, it was loving (even before either of us had told the other we loved each other), but wasn't as perfect as the movies always make it out to be.

I told her this tonight, and she giggled a bit, responded with a "Wow..." and that was about it. I told her the reason I knew about it was because I got a message on myspace reminding me that her birthday was in 3 days, so it brought the memory back, but that wasn't the complete truth. Since we've been talking again and she reminded me when her birthday is, I knew. It just took a little kickstart, a little nudge, and the date immediately came to mind.

We haven't talked about sex much. I haven't pushed the issue at all, and have rarely made even subtle remarks. It's not because I'm afraid to come on too strong or I'm afraid of being seen as wanting only one thing. Hell, when she fell in love with me in 1999, all I ever talked about was fucking.

No, the reason I really haven't brought it up is that it's really not a big concern of mine. In all sincerity, it's quite far down the list of things I want on this trip. I will be extraordinarily happy if I walk away with her heart, but don't remove a single item of her clothing. Seriously.

Of course, if anything happens, I'm incapable of fighting nature when it takes its course.

More tomorrow.