Staring at a blank screen… my thoughts are tumbling inside my head and I can’t find my voice.
While I’m quite sure I have no right to be this happy, it remains so. I’m sleep-walking through this dream that refuses to leave my mind – not that I’m complaining.
The intensity deepens, and I am overwhelmed with emotions – great big, gigantic emotions that flood my soul with all things good and wonderful and leave me floundering to describe them. It’s like a pre-orgasmic wave that pounds through my body just before the big release that makes me gasp for air and hold on tight.
What the fuck?
I don’t think Cinderella was ever this happy. One night in a pretty dress, a dance, a prince… and then the story ends. No one can define “happily ever after.” It’s always followed by “The End.”
Fuck the happy ever after. I want the here and now. I want to live in Love every moment with an open heart and a grateful spirit. And at the end of my life, maybe all of those moments strung together will create a fairy-tale ending after all.
I would not trade that which has found me for anything – not for a family holiday, not for a man in my bed every night, not for a ring on my finger. I have everything I want and need.
Well, almost everything.
There’s still that little thing called sex, and the fact that I’m not getting any. Most of the time, I’m so fucking happy that I don’t mind. But every once in a while I get that itch – that desire to hold and be held, to feel skin on skin, to be kissed so passionately I think I’m going to faint… to open my thighs to him and give everything away in the name of Love.
Excuse me, please. I have some more dreaming to do.