I hadn’t felt like that in so long.
Do you know the magic? I hope you do.
The thrill of elation lit up every part of me, as the warm radiance flushed from the depths, rising to the surface to emerge and be seen. The luscious softness refused the resistance of armor. There was no place for my feelings to hide.
Then our eyes met.
The agony of vulnerability grew sweet. I saw the luminosity of the smitten reflected back to me from the woman who had just inspired my delirium. Her face glowed and her smile opened.
That kind of radiance can never be faked — the gorgeous, pure rawness of “I like you, Like You, LIKE YOU! OH HELL YEAH!”
So my crush liked me too.
It has been forever since the last time those floodgates had opened.
I couldn’t believe it.
I had ended my engagement only 4 months before. The last thing I expected was an experience of that kind of butterfly twitterpation. It caught me off guard.
Not that I’m complaining because, you know…how can anybody complain about something so delicious?
“I can’t believe you feel that way over somebody else already!” One friend declared.
“Didn’t you ever feel that way about your ex?” Another asked.
Well yes and no.
In the beginning, there was chemistry. Of course there was because new relationship energy has always been euphoric.
But my ex-partner never swooned me through the virtue of being herself. Her touch was felt where it landed. But a stroke of my arm didn’t make me giddy and trill anywhere else, much less everywhere.
Maybe that’s one of the reasons we didn’t work out?
But the rush of this recent crush took my breath away on that unexpected day. It juiced me up. I was riding high - turned on and on fire. The sensation was exquisite.
Yet they call these things “crushes” for a reason.
Mainly because the stars are not aligned for something to actually happen with that scrumptious flood of feelings and possibilities.
Things are “complicated,” as they say. New romance and passion are not likely at this time, because there are obstacles in the way.
It already kind of hurts.
I’m painfully aware that although I don’t miss my ex-partner, I do miss relationship. I miss contact. I miss closeness. I miss waking up next to somebody.
I miss touch. I miss it a lot. Physical touch is my dominant love language, after all.
So the temptation of an old, destructive habit is ever present. It’d be so easy to fall into a fantasy of what-might-have-been-if-only, or the-hot-pursuit-of-trying-to-make-something-happen.
I hear the siren call of yearning. I can feel it in my gut, in my sinews, and even in my bones.
I’m so tempted to obsess, to want, and to long for this would-be beloved who is beyond my reach. The urge is almost irresistible. I want to stretch and bridge the chasm between us with my passion.
But I know where that path goes.
I know because I’ve done this before. I have chased the unavailable, only to fall into the abyss of misery, unbearable loneliness, abandoned dignity, and the regret of lost time.
Not to mention the regret of wasting something beautiful for what it actually was.
The rush of the crush intoxicated and invigorated me. With my blood flooded with heat, I came back to life.
I’m grateful this happened.
What a gorgeous reminder of all that is possible in the Realm of Love. That excitement and vibrant life force are exactly how I want to feel at the start of my next relationship.
Then the thought occurred to me that perhaps I’ve been a little touch-starved.
I had been sleeping and waking up alone for a few months, after all. I probably needed some tender, loving self-care.
So I went for a massage.
When the LMT asked me what areas to work on, I shook my head.
“I don’t need you to work on my tight spots. I’m here because I need to be touched.”
He nodded in understanding.
His touch was solid and dependable. Although did not give me a rush of twitterpation butterflies, it soothed and relaxed me.
After a half hour or so, the art of massage worked its magic. I melted into the sensation of parasympathetic ease, of oxytocin and other yummy endorphins.
The marvelous I left with was not the same as a hot new lover.
But the massage helped. It helped a lot.
