Three years ago today I texted a simple "Happy Valentine's Day" to my beloved one, but we hadn't done more than touch shoulders while watching a film at this point. I suppose he fell in love with me when I slid into second base 7 years before our first coffee meeting, but I didn't know that for a long time. My first reaction upon meeting him and playing on his ball team for the weekend was one of curiosity: "Why the strange moustache and mismatched sock pulled up so high?" And still, something about the way he walked drew my Spirit near; I now recognize it is the powerful connection he maintains with Spirit as he walks that first had my outer cells orbiting towards him, unbeknownst to my psyche at the time.
I was in my office at the U of A when I texted the Hallmarkian capitalist greeting. He responded with some facts about St. Valentine, maybe it was something about relics and where Mr. Valentine's skull is held, I can't quite recall. After the shoulder touching incident I awoke craving him next to me. "For fuck's sake!" I chastised myself, for my intention had been to have a male friend. Nothing in my conscious thinking mind wanted a relationship, not after the hell I had been through, a hell from which I narrowly escaped. But escape I did! And I was practicing sinking deep into my body to listen to the wisdom there. So safe to stay in the body, such truth to be accessed.
The next day, on February 15th, 2019, I dropped my little T-man off at daycare. I had somehow managed to have 5 days of childlessness in a row ahead of me, and with no work after 3pm. I sat in the Kia a moment behind the old McCauley school. "Body?" I breathed deeply, wiggling toes and squeezing butt cheeks together to bring my traumatized self back inside of me. "Body, if we could go anywhere, where would we go?" The dissociation of body from self was still rather obvious. The answer came quickly. "The ocean, of course." Is that possible, I wondered? I guess so. "And with whom?" Why with Timothy, of course. Oh no...no, no.
The impulsivity. Body is texting. Stop it fingers! What are you doing?...click. Send. "Do you want to go to the ocean with me?" I wrote it. I sent it. And then I began to buzz with a mania that is almost unparalleled in my experience. Now the waiting...except I barely waited at all. Almost instantly he replied: "I can be ready by 4pm." Oh no oh no oh no, what have I done? I am terrified of loving and being loved, more than ever I am scared of this. And yet, my body, the universe, life, the ancestors, the beloved dead...they are all guiding and blessing this union, orchestrating this moment...
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