At some point, I gave up. I thought I had my share of love like some people don’t get in three lives, let alone one.
I was comfortable with aging alone, caring for friends and pets, enjoying music, books, movies and nights out. Aging gracefully.
Still caring for me – spa, food, cosmetics & shoes, cherishing every good thing life brings my way.
But as always, my destiny is not as predictable as I imagine. My path is way more spectacular than I can picture.
So I met love and I ran away from it. But finally I caved and surrendered. Because no music, friends, cat purr or fancy shoe can match holding in your arms the man you love.
I cherish even the pain of the time apart, it’s a good pain, it’s healing, it means being alive. Alive like I haven’t ever been, it seems.
I probably loved this much, I probably was loved this much, but it seems like another life, I can hardly remember.
Every act of tenderness, the voice of the loved one, the expectation of shared bliss…
It’s never too late to love, don’t bother with how long it lasts, or how it rips you apart when it’s over.
I was looking at myself in the mirror after three days of love making and enjoying each other.
Looking back was an ageless beautiful radiant woman. It was amazing. Try it, it hurts like hell but it’s all worth it.
Pura Vida
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