So, I decided to stop by her work today and surprise her. It's been just over 6 weeks, if I recall, since I reached out to her. After some thought, I decided that I did not need her to be fully and perfectly prepared to see me. She had said that she wanted to be "as safe/open/vulnerable as [I] deserve" when she saw me next.
For my part, I couldn't wait any longer. It's been too long. I waited too long.
I was terrified of the moment, when it came. I'm fearless, by self-description. The bravest and strongest person that all those who know me closely have ever met, by their description. Yet, this reconnection left me feeling fear that I've not known since I was a small child.
I was fearful that my visit would upset her. That I would anger her. That I would make her fearful. Fear generated by the fact that there is no one I want more, than her. That there is nothing I want more, than her presence in my life. Like some insanely addicting narcotic, I'm addicted to her.
For her part, she was happy to see me. Pleasantly surprised. I couldn't ask for more. I expect to hear from her soon. And from there we'll see what transpires.
In her eyes, I saw that same teenaged angst that she felt in our past, almost 2 years ago. That same anxious attraction, still tempered by that shy, sly smile that seduced me years earlier.
I can only imagine what she saw in my eyes. Maybe that same dominating desire I had for her in the past. A desire that played its part in our dissolution, two years past. There's truth enough in that. I only know that it was enough to cause her to look away, bashfully. Like not so long ago.
I told her that I had a lot to say. She said the same to me.
Part of me can't help but feel that she's been waiting for this moment as long as I have.
... and I've waited too long as it is, for both our sakes.
Can't wait to hear from her. To see her. To speak to her for longer than the 5 minutes, or so, we had this afternoon. So much packed into such a short time. And we spent most of it in a much needed embrace.