Sweet Valentine, Part Three: The Ropes Really Like Him and I Do Too!

OMG how did he get so beautiful?!

As I sit down to type this, I feel half "we went too fast and I lost my chance to truly get to know him" and half "whoa our bodies (and souls?!) really knew what they were doing that Wednesday morning after yoga!" Since I can't fully understand what it means, I'll focus on how it felt, which was unequivocally, dizzily wonderful.

Putting the ropes on Sweet Valentine, I didn't really feel like a Ma'am. Part of the appeal of this connection was how evenly matched we are in some ways. He IS a sweet precious baby boy, but he's also a man with a real, full life and a big stake in his/our community. AND he's in therapy?! So hot.

It's hard to latch onto details because the morning was such a blur of joy and release--I felt both very present AND in a fog. The Pink Haze, my name for the way horniness steers the ship in the right direction sometimes, was in full effect.

His shoulders are made of the most beautiful triangles in existence. His body reminds me of the Greek hall at the Met, so perfectly carved by nature and light. I felt perfectly carved by nature and light too! The sun was shining directly into my body, heart, and soul.

And I felt secure, like all of me was in such safe hands. Dad vibes I guess, or just his open and beautiful attention. Maybe both. My word for the year is trust and on this day I felt like I was living it.

I found out later (or maybe he told me at the coffeeshop and I just missed it) that this was his First Ever Poly Date!!! Not the first one he made plans with, but the first not-his-wife lady he kissed since they started their adventure. I wish I'd taken this into account, asked him questions deeper than "Are the ropes pinching anywhere?" and "Am I doing a good job?"

Or maybe it's better that the ropes and our bodies did most of the talking? Praise flew out of my face like it always does. And much as I get vexed by the just saying stuff aspect of dating, boy did I say stuff. Such as:

"When I put the ropes on you, that means you're mine. And when I take them off...you're still mine."

The kissing and the sex both felt like we were trying to meld into one body, one spirit, not tangled but interwoven. Bound but free. Grounded and kind.

No wonder I've been feeling such floods of emotion following our (first?) two dates--having my needs met so thoroughly and kindly is BEAUTIFUL and also so big that it freaks me the fuck out a little. That be not afraid feeling of encountering angels.

Not that day though. All I felt when he left that afternoon was:

1. THANK GOD The Guy Next Door didn't kiss me!! What if I'd gotten distracted by his mess and MISSED THIS?! Sometimes it's so clear that Love Itself is looking out for me.

2. Sweet Valentine is someone really special to me.

3. This is the kindness I deserve. I hope he feels that way too. He deserves every single happiness in the world, such a precious sweet baby soul.

I spent most of the day in bed, napping/glowing/napping/glowing. I felt peaceful and fulfilled and happy. I knew OCD would chime in with the thoughts soon enough, but that day found me with a quiet brain and a full heart--a miracle just as it was.