Preferences that seemed vitally important the previous week are now absent-mindedly discarded. Tossed away with ease; sacrificed to this new goddess of co-dependency. There’s a dull pain when she leaves. As if I may not survive if she doesn’t return soon. A month ago I was perfectly happy on my own, and now my well-being is once again bound to another.
There’s a part of me that knows better. Really, there is. I can feel it sitting there, petrified, wondering when it’s all going to crash and burn to the ground. And it will, I know it will. There is no balance to this whirlwind. We are building a tower of random blocks with no time to secure a foundation. Instant gratification has its price.
These thoughts scatter when I hold her. She looks so beautiful in my arms. I run my fingers through her hair and allow my uncertainty to get washed away by a flood of tender emotions. A lonely satellite caught in the orbit of a strange new planet. There is no escape.
What is it about lesbian relationships that seem to make most of us lose all sense of boundaries? Each time, it’s as if we’ve never done it before. That tingly excitement of falling into a new person just takes over, and we are left to helplessly watch ourselves repeat the same pattern.
Perhaps women are easier to connect with. All those emotions running high, feeding on personal conversations that seem to flow of their own accord. The physical intimacy comes more easily as well. Soft, accommodating and utterly intoxicating.
It’s been seven days, and I’m no longer sure I know where I end and where she begins.
