At some point I will have to grow up. I really will. But for now, I quite like the butterflies it gives me when he calls and tells me sweet things. It is moments like those that keep me hanging on to the vast space and time between visits. When we are together, it all makes sense. When we are not together, more and more all the time, it still makes sense.
The challenge is justifying the rest of it. And finding the point at which common ground exists, in which we actually live in the same place.
After so many years of being in this place, I think I am almost ready to admit how I feel, and for it to move along. Even if just for clarity's sake. I am getting impatient. And scared.
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