This is going to sound incredibly bad and I hope I do not have to eat my words, but I feel I must flag an epiphany I've just had:
There is a world of difference between 'I love him, I'm happy when I'm around him' and 'I love him, but God, it sears my soul sometimes'.
I used to think the first kind of love was what I wanted. The happy, quite comfortable kind. But I rejected it at every turn. People who ticked all the boxes in terms of compatibility, matching, kindness, gentleness, sweetness (one of them overticked this box, but never mind him for now), I simply rejected every time we passed a sort of invisible dividing line between the 'beginning' and the 'real thing'.
I was happy in each one's presence.
I smiled and laughed a lot, had tonnes of fun, and some great sex and brilliant conversations.
I was never so deeply happy that it hurt.
And never so deeply hurt that it felt ecstatic.
I am now.
And I hesitate to say it that way, because every time I profess a certainty, it crumbles to dust. Such is the way of this universe. No?
But since this is just cyberspace and since technically I'm just writing this on a blog, on the web, virtually in thin air, I think it should be safe to sound certain, so I'm just gonna say it:
I'm so happy, it hurts.
And sometimes, so deeply hurt, I can't feel it at all, and just laugh (genuinely, laugh) when I really expected to dissolve into floods of tears.
Is it because I've found The one?
Or is it because I've found the version of me that can be so deeply affected?
I think you can't have one without the other, personally.