that dangerous fire, hope

i've fallen in with a new comrade. new people can feel intoxicating; all the stories can be retold, which seems such a comfort. also, somewhat paradoxically, there is the chance to be someone 'new and different'. comfort and mystery. no wonder we fail so wonderfully at sexual monogamy (as a species; some individuals still seem able). the garden will always have something to offer, as siddhartha found out in hesse's version of the story.

elise lebeau suggests the "i only feel my own emotions" exercise for those in coupledom. i like that one, and have been practicing it occasionally anyway. but i am also going to be away from said fresh new blood for a long weekend, which will give me an opportunity to sort through my internal world and make sure all of the emotions there are, in fact, mine. if emotions can be 'in fact'. which sounds silly. perhaps 'in authenticity' would be a more accurate choice.

it's exhilarating to meet someone who embodies qualities i had pretty much given up on finding. and it's not just the adjectives, it's how they play together: smart AND kind. funny AND quiet. tender WHILE passionate.

of course, there's all the usual fears floating by. loss, tragedy, heart-crushing. bitterness, slow suffocation, love gone sour or stale ... i read through the catalogue, but decided not to order any self-fulfilling prophecies yet. there's always later.

in the meantime, succumb slowly, gracefully to the here and now, to love. succumbing is an excellent dance move.