It's hard to write about the things that have been going on so far this year. Not because they are so terrible or fraught with meaning or anything but simply because I don't know how to do it well. The kidlet is having some persistant (but minor) health issues which are causing him lots of pain and trauma, and are frustating the hell out of me, so that's taking up a lot of my mental and emotional energy. And then there's this dating thing. It's stirring up all kinds of stuff. I'm wary, though, of writing too much about it here. For one thing, chances are good that before too long, I'll tell him about the blog.
Here's what's significant about what's happening now: we're dating, and I don't think I've ever just dated. I've always fallen madly in love. Most of my significant relationships--and too many of my flings--have started with a heady rush of passionate delirium, and I was convinced I'd found my soulmate. I love being swept off my feet, and tend to mistake sexual attraction and infatuation with the real thing. Not surprisingly, this rarely turns out well. So why is this time different? Don't think that I've suddenly matured significantly over the last couple of years, or that heartbreak has made me wise. A large portion of it is because he is not yet divorced and has made it plain that he's not ready for anything serious. And that jibes very well with what I was thinking when I decided I was ready to have a social life again. So, we're dating.
Part of me is really freaked out by this. It's so outside of my normal pattern, that I don't always know how to proceed. I want to go back to what's familiar and comfortable. On the other hand, this new way feels really good. I am relaxed. I am not twitterpated or infatuated or in love. I like him. When someone asks me about him, I usually break into a big smile. It's easy. It's fun.
All this easy, healthy sort of stuff just isn't that fun to read about, I know. It would be much better blog fodder is he were a jerk, or if we were running away to Vegas to get married next weekend or something. You'll just have to bear with me on this one, folks, and be glad for me.
Finally, I'm very happy to have eaten some of the best damn chocolate cake ever last night. I got it here, which is fast becoming one of my favorite coffee shops. The cake was moist and dark, and the frosting was so smooth and buttery and, well, chocolatey. I was very disappointed to not have been able to finish it. It made me feel like a kid in the best way.