Oh who the hell was I kidding???

I never loved him.

He bored the crap out of me.

And now he's gone I can breathe again.

So good to have that space in my life again.

The space to desire, feel, aaaaaaaaaahhhhh

Two months

So today marks two months since he first surprised me with his tender kiss, since French spilled out of my mouth like it did 20 years ago.

I sometimes think about other relationships I've had, filled with spark and longing that broke my heart daily and I wonder if I feel that for him. Mostly I don't. I am too sensible for that now, too confident and self assured, or maybe just too jaded. But we work. We work really well. I get so much from him, his tenderness, his thoughtfulness, his pressing desire to see me as soon as possible at every turn.

And slowly my heart is filling with love, like I'm on a drip, medicating me from old maladies. My fear is still palpable but I mostly manage to push it to the back of my mind.

My body is starting to yearn for him, but I still need a lot of space. And after a fairly indulgent, messy winter start, we are both so clean and glowing. I've been jogging regularly and eating really well and I feel as though I am shining. But maybe that's just under his gaze so loving.

He loves me. He really loves me. I fascinate him, I'm an enigma to him, dark, secretive, intelligent and accomplished.

And for me, well there are many things that he's not. Many qualities I have sought in undeserving targets and left longing. Qualities that I'm now satisfied to find elsewhere. Because what I need from him, what I get from him, is more than I can find in books and travel and quality education. What I get from him is connection, laughing, loving and respect. It's taking up the slack for each other, and to me, that is priceless and rare and that is what I love about him.

Dreamy

Today I was standing in the Botanical Gardens in the winter sun with a belly full of yum cha, kissing.

Kissing tenderly and gently and passionately. Kissing with his face in my hands. Kissing and breathing each other in. Kissing and he tenderly brushes a piece of hair out of my face. Kissing like no-one is watching and neither of us have been hurt before.

And now, in front of the computer, finishing off some work from last week, I glimpse that moment in my mind's eye, and suddenly realise how much I have wanted this. Wanted it so much. To feel a part of something, someone.

He was away last week and I was feeling anxious and when he came back and I picked him up from the airport last week, I felt so calm. And for the first time in a really long time, really long time I am with someone who makes me feel relaxed and calm and ok. And when we're apart I just miss him so much.

I miss the way we laugh so easily. I miss waking up in the middle of the night with our bodies wrapped in each other, not sure which bit belongs to who. I miss the ease of our bodies, our minds. At the gallery we saw some modern art, that almost defied post modern deconstructionist theory, and we were doubled over laughing and then we found a really dark corner and started cuddling and kissing and then laughing again when someone else came into the room, oblivious that we were even there. Before we left I said that I had to go to see some 'real' art so that I felt better about the experience and..well it was just funny and easy and nice. So nice to be with.

Last night it was his son's 21st birthday and being Greek, there were about 50 relatives and friends, including obviously, his ex wife. And it was all so easy and welcoming and supportive. Afterwards, his sister came up to me and said that I was a hit. And today he said the same after reading a text on his phone. And some of his friends invited us out...so different to Pete. Where it was all taboo and difficult and dishonest. And I felt ashamed without knowing why. I then found out that I was the first girlfriend that he had brought along to such an event since his divorce, which was about 6 years ago and when I asked him why, he said very simply and honestly, no one else has been worthy.

So after 6 weeks or so my disbelief is starting to wane. With each caress he takes off a bit of tarnish, heals a few more scars. But it's only been six weeks or so and well I'm trying to get through each day slowly and enjoy it and not be too neurotic in the process. Trying not to sabotage it before it has a chance. And desperately trying not to think about how much it's going to hurt if it doesn't work out.

So tonight I have a date.

I know...hard to believe, but alas, it's true.

And I am so nervous and procrastinating. I'm making him dinner and I've only just got home from shopping at the various providores who have the yummy things I need for my, hopefully, lust inducing, concoctions.

I haven't had a shower, and I've only got two more hours. No idea what to wear! Haven't sorted out music...

Ok, breathe, relax...and he's so lovely...but aren't they all in the beginning?

I've got to put the washing away...and the dishes...breathe....oh how ridiculous! I probably won't even like him in a couple of weeks, I'll be whingeing about the way he talks or dresses or his mother, or some other trivial thing like that. Ok, well not his Ma...

But right now, he's gorgeous. Dresses well, smells delicious, is motivated, and really compassionate...and I really like him.

And I think he likes me too....

Ok, I'm going to unpack the food and have a shower...

I'm going already!!!

Ok Ok!

Alrighty, here I am. I am so tired and so busy. Last night I had 9 hours sleep and am even more tired than when I just get 5, which seems to be the norm these days.

I usually work until 6 or so, pick up my daughter from school, play with her and do house stuff, and then when she's asleep I work until 12 or 1, and then she wakes me up at around 6am and it starts all over again.

It's a crazy way to live.

And I just feel like I'm going backwards. I love living in this city. It has a beautiful energy and in just a few short months, have made some really lovely friends. But financially, it's an expensive place to be, and work wise, I wonder what I'm doing.

I just wish I had lots of money and could just hang out with Luka, and play. Have time to enjoy this place. Instead I feel like I'm slowly drowning.

And I long to love again. But I just don't trust it. All my friends, old and new, that are in that mystery land of `Coupledom`, seem to be looking at travel brochures desiring to visit different, exotic lands. And I just don't think I can go through heart ache again. It nearly kills me every time, even when it's fairly insignificant.

I can't imagine trusting someone again. Have I just not met the right kind of men? Or are all men not to be trusted with love? And intimacy? And my fragile heart?

What is emotional maturity anyway?

Weary.

I'm used to feeling successful, and satisfied with my work, and my life, but I'm not really sure what the point of anything is at the moment.

Australia Day

Today is Australia Day and while I am so proud to be Australian and love my country there are definitely some things in our past that we need to rectify to move on.

When you think about, we all do. Maybe today is a day to say sorry and allow every one to move on.

I am in Melbourne visiting my brother and his lovely family and something has changed. I don't see these guys very often, with the tyranny of distance, work and kids, so it doesn't surprise me that I feel this way.

You know what it's like when you have space, people change, children/gardens grow, spaces evolve. But this time, I can see me. I have changed, or maybe become more 'me'.

I feel so calm. So centred and I can feel their response to me is different.

There is an easiness now that I rarely feel. A trust, a handing over, a community or equals and respect. No longer just 'little sister'.

And it's lovely.

There is an absence of judgement from them, and from me. Instead an easy rhythm with a slow, steady beat. An absence of frenetic anxiety and internal chatter.

And I know I'll be back soon.