For a week or more we haven’t talked.
Then his voice is on the other line. An excitement in my body that can’t be explained.
I cry at the heartbreak it has been to not hear him.
And more so than that — not to be able to share whenever I have the desire. I had many moments I longed to share my joy, victories, sadness. And I couldn’t from a request he had not to speak. I get that it’s artificial. To not communicate. I long to be able to love and express at any moment.
I got to share and to hear his journey the past weeks.
It’s beautiful both of us come back to the conclusion that love is where we are. That we experience something together that we don’t get anywhere else.
I am committed.
Love doesn’t have to look a certain way.
Real freedom is in loving and being able to put my heart on the line and wait for two weeks to be able to share.
And know love to still be there.
To not see someone for three months (or three days) and instantly know them.
The state of their heart, their pain, their joy in a moment.
It doesn’t take anything to be connected again.
At the same time we have no idea who the other person is in front of us.
But that’s the key.
Nothing but love is all that is there.
Nothing in the way.
No decisions, no filters, no barriers.
I explore that space with strangers on the train, my clients at work, the people in the shops, the people I lead introductions to.
When I can clear out as much as possible, they are understood.
Left bigger than when I found them.