I try to keep myself grounded.
I try to tell myself that it’s early days, that it’s ridiculous to think or dream of him. But when he sends me sweet goodnight messages wishing me “sweet dreams” or says how much he enjoyed our night together; says that he wants to meet again. What else can I do but dream of him?
It seems an eternity ago that I felt like this. The delicious rising excitement, the thrill, the joy of simply being alive with feeling. But the difference, the crucial, magical difference, is that he seems to feel the same way too. Seems to feel with a genuine and manly depth of feeling that makes me want to trust in what this could be.
In my mind I replay our night. His arms holding me to him, his beautiful, broad body. His muscles weren’t defined, necessarily, but his primal energy seemed to fill every inch of his 6 ft 5 frame. His strength was immense, his hair soft under my hands. But more importantly his personality was sweet. We made one another laugh, and I loved having him in my bed.
I want him. Oh lord, how I want him.
I think things, things I know I shouldn’t be thinking so early on. Things I barely want to admit to, even in my own heart. Things I can’t help but think.
It may be early days, but I pray one day I can look back on them with him at my side.