D gets here on Friday and is in town for a few days. I want to type that I have no expectations or ideas about the weekend and am keeping an open mind etc, but that would be a lie.
It would also be a lie if I wrote that I am hoping he will fall madly in love with me and this weekend will be hot sex.
I want for neither so polar yet stand astride both playgrounds each school of thought reside.
He shares with me the other day words of compassion and full acknowledgement of my life circumstance. I recoiled. The statements came across my smart phone and as I read them I could not have felt more retarded, emotionally that is.
It was the first time ever that empathy was offered to me condition free from a man. A man I was intimate with, I man I would say yes to being intimate again.
I live in French Canada, working in an industry I am still so much a newborn in, yet this is the language I have the least many words at my disposable. This infantile lexicon speaks the loudest despite its anorexic state. It speaks, or shouts rather, to the terms I have yet to know.
I love looking forward to this weekend, more words will be taught either way.
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