I know I’ve been neglectful both in posting and in visiting but I hope you guys can forgive me. I’ve been occupied with real life. Finally.

I made it to the airport with time to spare Tuesday night and Sadie talked me through a minor panic attack via text while I waited. Best piece of advise was “just don’t forget to breathe” which was timely because I’d forgotten precisely that.  But she was right and everything was fine. He walked off the concourse and we hugged and after I got through the initial surreal-ness of actually having him here, within reach (which I took full advantage of and kept one hand on his arm, back or in his hand at all times), and the general shakiness, it was completly natural and comfortable.  There have been some intense moments and some amazing ones and some that were nothing short of miraculous. I realized as we laid talking yesterday that he was running his fingers along my face. Nothing major there. Except he was running his fingertips along my eyelids and the tracing my eyes. Still sounds like no big deal for most people, right. But for me? I have an abject terror to anyone or anything else getting close to my eyes. Optometrist appointments are sheer torture. For me AND the doctor as he knows I will leave claw marks in the arm of the chair for a simple checkup and if he has to dilate my eyes? Might as well find the duct tape. He doesn’t even try anymore. But Jon? I never flinch. And it amazes me every.single.time.

The neurotic cat loves him, of course. He has played with her and she either goes completely feisty, yea play with me crazy or rolls onto her back, meows pathetically and melts. I kinda have the same reaction. I think I’ll keep him. Or let him keep me for as long as he’ll have me. A coworker said she hoped that being in his arms would be like coming home for me. And it is and so much more. It’s completeness and peace and comfort and laughter and I’m loving every single second of it.

Merriam Webster:

Main Entry:

soul mate

1 : a person who is perfectly suited to another in temperament

2 : a person who strongly resembles another in attitudes or beliefs <ideological soul mates>

I’ve often shied away from the term “soul-mate” in the past. It always seemed to indicate finality, an inevitability that I didn’t like. As if there was no way for my life to be complete without this one mysterious unknown person. I’ve never looked up the actual definition before this post started brewing but the definition I eventually subscribed to is pretty much above. I should’ve just asked Merriam-Webster and saved myself a lot of angst.

During a recent discussion about “being lost in someone without losing yourself”, I commented that it was very much a possibility. Honestly, I was partially lying. I have wanted, and have been, totally lost in Jon. I’ve found that I don’t want to be “me” and “him”. I want to be “us”. I want to be “we”. I want to be part of a team, a unified being. Part of “me” has been exchanged for part of “us”. I haven’t given up all sense of self. Instead, I am enhanced by this connection. My spirit is stronger, my dreams brighter. All that is worthwhile within me is enhanced by a tenfold simply by opening myself to this connection. I don’t expect life to be kittens and rainbows. I don’t expect things to always be easy. What I DO expect, is that neither of us will give up. That we are both 100% committed to this working. Neither of us will accept the idea that there is any other option. WE are the only option. And with that knowledge, with that certainty, I can place myself in his hands for safekeeping. I can confidently relinquish the last vestment of my stubborn self. Am I now needy and dependent and unable to function on my own? Absolutely not. But I’m also no longer focused on my independence and self sufficiency. Those traits are still a part of me but they no longer define my life. My life is no longer solely mine. My life belongs to this relationship. Fully and completely. I’ve found my soul-mate and with him, I’ve found peace and a completeness I never knew existed.