7 - I Want to Jump…Eventually.

“Do you think true love exists?” he asked, whispering his thoughts into my hair, my neck, and eventually my chest. “I’m not sure,” was all I deigned to reply. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the hot air. I didn’t want to think about that right now. I didn’t want something unknown to ruin this moment of blissful ignorance I granted myself for the night. I didn’t want love to be a topic of discussion.

As he pulled me into his lap, brushing my hair behind my face, he told me that navy was my color. I told him that he’d obviously had too much to drink. He laughed at that, but he didn’t deny it. We both knew I was right.

Hours later, in my bed, I stared into the wood-paneled ceiling, watched the fan go around and around, and wondered. I wondered if I would ever be loved. Not fucked or fawned over, but loved. Gently. By a nice man who cared about my feelings and my hopes and dreams. By a gentleman willing to hold doors open for me and wait ahead while I was behind, tying my shoe.

I hope this man takes things slow, that he cherishes the feeling of my bare skin against his and isn’t in a rush for his own satisfaction. I hope he sees beyond the confident facade I sport in sports bars and wear with a wine glass in hand. I’m not all that sure of myself. He’ll come to understand that, and he’ll love me even more.

Love is a hunger burning a hole in my stomach, reminding me of the absence of something not guaranteed. Love is a craving that might never be satisfied. It’s all or nothing.

Love is scary but beautiful. It’s a jump into a dark pit and a risk people are willing to take. I think, if I had the option, if I were to be given the chance, I would jump in head first. I would raise my arms above my head and push off, not knowing if the bottom held a lifetime of pain or the most wonderful world I haven’t seen but could soon explore.

I want to take that leap of faith. I’m dying to feel the rush of air on my cheeks as I fall lower and lower into nothingness that will lead to everything. To my everything. I just need the pit. I just need the chance to let go, and I swear, I’ll do it. I’m going to feel the air on my cheeks and the wind in my hair. Eventually.