I can’t stop smiling, giggling actually; and feeling ticklish in the tummy and silly. It must be happiness in all its splendour. Pure joy this must be. V said the words this morning. I knew he would eventually, but like all other things he does, he managed to throw me off guard this time around too. J That’s his style: inconspicuous, jet-speed hints (ones that you miss if you’re not on tenterhooks all the time), and a no-drama delivery. And it hits you like, BANG! When you’re least expecting it.
We were talking only last night about it; and he got me to believe that I was risking a premature admission or worse still, a belief of prematurity when he did say it. Yet another of his defences was that I was supposedly pre-empting his wanting to say it. Hah!
Um…well, guess I was, and I decided to stop doing whatever pre-empting means. I told him that it was hurting for me to love him and not have him love me back; but I didn’t say the words; haven’t said them yet, tra la!!!
I wanted so much to share this joy with someone and the effective choice turned out to be, as it always does, V. One call later, I’m settled. We have this strange trade of calm and restlessness that comes from him being inherently rational and me being inherently emotional. He gives me the calm, and I him the restlessness. He injects a thought, and I a feeling. Fair play and perfect foil.
But there are flashes of fear. But well, what joy hasn’t fear mixed with it? The fear of losing the worth of something attained so laboriously, the fear of altered meanings and the fear of an expected routine. I hope the ‘I love you’ doesn’t become as meaningless as a “heyyy” for me; again, for him too, again. I’m hoping with all I’ve got that V is not another one of those guys who become uninteresting the minute I get them to say the words. Damn! What am I saying? I know he isn’t one of them. This, as he puts it, is just one of the tinier missions of mine to get the whole of him.
A spiritual journey is what I’m offering him: a quest for him to integrate his self as a whole. I’m afraid there too. He’s rather complete as a man already. What if he needs me no more after completing his soul? But do I want him to need me? Or simply want me because he wants to. That has been a great honour and I reckon it will be so. I hope I also love him because I want him and not because I need him. Love ought not to be price paid for ones needs. I’ve paid it once. He’s paid it too. Thus, this time around, these words bring about a great deal of responsibility with them. I hope we’ve understood each other enough to respect that.
For this time though, I’ll just sit back and be happy, knowing that it is not premature.