It hurts to long for proximity when there is nothing that can be done about it, other than to be patient. There is this almost palatable sense of intensity and urgency in the waiting. But that building tension is delicious in ways that tease the senses even from a distance. That anticipation of reconnecting.

Conversations over boundaries, and explicit consent. Discussions over comfort levels with specific activities. What’s allowed, what’s not allowed, and things that may have mild apprehension attached to them, but still illicit enough curiosity that they aren’t off the table.

But also not rushing into any specific activity, focusing on sensation and emotional connection.

The concept of exploration is tantalizing, and sets my imagination to wandering… excessively. And for now that will suffice to satisfy my longing for proximity and physical contact.

I exist in an almost constant state of music consumption, sometimes it shapes my mood and other times it echoes it, a soundtrack from a blip in my life.

I don’t know how it is that this is where I find myself, madly in love, in this configuration.

I can’t even begin to imagine what the future looks like, which is a daunting prospect for someone who has always had some kind of view of the future.

But it is also exciting, to be able to walk into that future, side by side, hand in hand, heart to heart, loving and being loved.

So much love, happiness, continued connection, and interwoven emotional growth.

Connection that draws me back into proximity. Feelings blooming into something even more than they were. A level of trust that I didn’t know I could have with anyone.

The walls I spent my entire life building are paper thin now, vulnerability exceeding anything I though I could have ever allowed myself to consider before. Because for the first time in my life I feel safe, really safe. Not waiting for the next shoe to drop, not waiting for the next emotional attack, not existing in fight or flight. Just holding space and emotions for each other. Holding each other accountable without the intent to hurt, but with the intent to grow and build and understand, together.

Surviving, safe, and thriving.

When I was a kid, I was exposed to a LOT of philosophical concepts. Most of these things went way over my head at the time. But sometimes through the recent excavation of my past, these concepts reveal themselves again… for the first time. This isn't one of those times.

(Saturday) Today we celebrated my nephew’s birthday. I got to see a lot of family, some that I haven’t seen in a little, others I haven’t seen in a bit longer. Upon talking to one of my elder cousins, he asked me how things were going (already knowing that Joe and I are separating but not really knowing the details of how the process is going)… I opened my mouth and the deeply sarcastic thing that spilled out was like as if I had just channeled my father from beyond the grave. I looked him in the eye and called myself out for sounding like my father.

I don’t even remember what I said, just that I sounded bitter and sarcastic all at the same time. And it was suddenly clear that my father used sarcasm as a means of protecting himself from having to have difficult conversations. No wonder all of his cousins wield sarcasm like its both shield and sword.

About the Author

I am Sarah, a late blooming queer individual exploring my past experiences through introspection and internal work as well as talking to others and having conversations that lead to further thought experiments. This is an evolution of being in real time.

I’ve written heavily on the grief of losing my father suddenly and how that has resulted in my transformation, and the grief of losing my friend and brother to cancer. I’m writing more recently on my experiences and realizations and incorporating some DIY and hobby content where I can.

Thank you for reading 🙂

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