The past three weeks have been spent in mostly a state of bliss…

…ever since the infamous weekend with Mr. Mahn. For the next two weeks, thereafter, we had met twice more at his condo, for dinner and a movie…and, of course, the sex. I catch myself getting lost in the moment, which is not necessarily a bad predicament; however, it’s the thoughts and feelings and mental re-telling and analyzing of stories that causes problems – more specifically, a growing attachment to someone I presume may drift off within a month. At least, I think that it helps to take that worst-case scenario so that I can deal with it a lot better once this emotionally active summer ends.

Within days of our weekend together, Mr. Mahn and I had grown closer and the feeling of mutual sprungness had intensified. My exclamations of I will still miss every part of you after my trip coupled with his You can HAVE me because I want more of you too do nothing to maintain our emotional barriers. For the three days I was away in Montreal with my family, I was on an emotional high from the feeling of envelopment and longing from him. Artwork I pass by on the cobblestone streets immediately make me think, Oh, that is something he would like, or better yet, A stroll through here would be so much more with you. Every time that happens, I find myself torn between finally channeling my inner-Charlotte and just letting him in, and replacing the bricks of my fortress as an attempt at self-preservation. Undeniably, I want to put down the trowel and just let him in, but there is that perpetual fear of him seeing my raw self and perhaps deciding that it is not enough. Enough affairs have come and gone to make me overly familiar with the feeling, and I find myself scared to find out whether or not Mr. Mahn will be the one to change that particular status-quo.

Nonetheless, our dinner date on the 20th was hopelessly romantic with a beautiful dinner, followed by canoodling time on the sofa as we watched a movie. It was comfortable and enveloping, and I could feel myself falling deeper into his arms, into his stronghold. The thing is that I am far from apprehensive or anxious when I am physically in his arms, but the moment I am away from him and think of his embrace, I get scared. I get scared of falling so deep and losing myself in the moment, because all we really have is THAT moment. The following week, on the 28th, was our second dinner-movie date, which was just three days ago actually. I had been building-up my Montreal present for him, which was in the form of photography, taken by yours truly. The beauty of which was that it ironically represented the recurrent theme of serendipity in our ‘relationship’ thus far. Yes, the R-bombs were dropped, and maybe there was shrapnel flying out as it was casually dropped by both parties – albeit, he did the first drop.

The mutual longing for each other’s company and attention is evident, and everything is decadently sweet. But little things are starting to show signs of a sugar-crash, and maybe he is pulling away a bit. Maybe I am over-analyzing again, because he is getting busier at work. Maybe I am asking too much from both of us, especially when we have agreed to take things slow and just see how things go. So, this is me, taking it slow and seeing it how it goes, and I do not think I am doing such a good job.