Porch, Sunday afternoon

So I'm sitting on the porch, watching clouds roll in. Coffee is delicious...the elixir of my days.



Interacting with James... A source of both joy and heartache. Monday- stood up. Tuesday - stood up. Wednesday- hung out, talked, had dinner, he stayed the night. Thursday- no show. One of four planned interactions worked out. In his defense, Keith played a major role in his not showing up- threatening to kill himself, driving the car over a log, etc.



Friday was a long day- I worked both jobs. He went dancing. We had plans for Saturday- which he kept. I was pleasantly surprised. We hung out, he played guitar, we talked, I cried, he held me. He stayed the night and we watched obscure music on YouTube. Several hours of conversations were shared. I'm thankful for the insight. I am a little hurt that he slept with Keith. Exploring the sacred feminine or not, it still seems odd. That James felt himself falling for Keith hurts even more. My ego is bruised. The more I want him, the less available he becomes. Whatever was I thinking to get involved with a twenty year old? Why would it work? I guess I look back and see that my own path involved an older man, with whom I shared a life for 18 years.



So I savor my coffee and contemplate it all. I am in love - but am I in love with the idea of being in love...? He plays my heart like an instrument. Glimpses into his soul bring me joy. Intimate moments shared on the porch, or in the bedroom make me smile. If I can remember that in this moment all is well and perfect, then I seem to have a fighting chance. If I struggle, I drown in the quagmire of self pity and despair.



Which will I choose?