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“You have so much passion…” my new friend wrote.

Sometimes I’m uncertain if what I’m doing springs from passion.  Perhaps a better word, in this case, would be lunacy.

But I do have a passion for him, physically and emotionally, a palpable desire that wends its way through my waking thoughts and filters into my restless dreams.  My longings truly make me a little crazy at times, so lunacy fits.

And, oh!…the complications: Once again, I’ve fallen for a man with complications, distance being among them.  Call me crazy, again.

I wonder if my choices are sub-consciously deliberate; if, after too many years of living as the more submissive partner, that I fear a fully-realized relationship.  Distance insures a safety-net, allowing both the luxury of romance and the relief of independence.

Long distance relationships are often kinder and better edited because they’re conducted through media that allow time to think and to consider: emails, letters.  Verbal spontaneity is less prevalent day-to-day.  But the downside: words have to stand completely on their own; body language or loving facial expressions do not smooth the rough spots off hurtful, carelessly-tossed written words…or conversely, do not convey the depth of emotion that a simple gaze or a touch can.

And longing.  Oh, God, the longing.  Long distance relationships feed off of longing.  They live on the edge of never-quite-fulfilled desire: the breathless counting down of days, the rapturous union, the bittersweet farewells and then, like junkies seeking the next fix, the plotting for the next meeting.

Yet another part of me wants to have it all.

My adult romantic relationships have been imbalanced, unequal.  I have no regrets over any of them, for I’ve become who I am because of the people in my life.  But sometimes I yearn for that fully-realized relationship: an equality of passion and desire, love and friendship, open, honest, free…in the same city, in the same house, in the same bed.

My new friend and I have already labeled our burgeoning feelings: Love.  But it’s not forever love, not eternal love; it’s love in the moment, an emotion between us that will always lie far beyond friendship, but one that may never blossom past love in the now.

I cherish his kindness, his sensitivity, his tender writing through which his own longings bleed through.  I wonder sometimes…Why me?…for very rarely am I attracted to someone before he is attracted to me.  The sequence is significant: I’m used to responding to attention and then growing my own attraction.

But this man: His physical appearance socked me in the gut before I ever spoke with him, before I ever knew the intelligence and romanticism behind the mesmerizing eyes.  I saw him; I desired him.  It was that simple.  Therefore, my baseline with him is set  at the highest end of the passion meter and can only go further from there.

Which is why he wrote, “You have so much passion…”

Because for him, I do.

What we share is so new, so fresh, so tentative that I have no idea where it’s heading.  But love in the now is enough…for now.

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