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Waiting For

A small part of me feels like I should be waiting for the other shoe to drop; the one bad thing that's going to send this perfect moment in my life straight to hell and leave me wishing I could get things right for once. But there is no shoe dangling over my head waiting for the right moment to fall. For the first time in my life, something good is happening and I don't fear that it's going to be ripped out from under me when I least expect it. It's too early for me to say I see a future here, but the possibility that there could be one doesn't scare the living daylights out of me like it usually does. We could find out we aren't as compatible as we thought or my SCI could be too much for him or he won't want to move to Nashville with me or any number of things that could force us apart, but that doesn't scare me either. I am anxiety-free when it comes to the thought of him, and I'm not obsessing over why that is. I'm accepting and embracing ...
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Cloud 9, Part Two

A comforting touch. A loving embrace. A kiss. A flash of skin. The visions on repeat during the early morning hours, providing no rest. The same five songs on repeat because I might as well get some pleasure from the thoughts that won't get out of my head. But it's no use; the only thing I want to do is pick up my phone and talk to him. 2 years, 6 months, and 1 day (and 22 hrs 53 minutes, if you really want to get technical). That was the last time we talked. Sure, we've been Facebook friends and follow each other on Instagram, and I'd commented on a production photo about a year ago in addition to taking note of a new girlfriend a few months back , but that was the extent of our relationship as of late. So it came as a surprise, when absentmindedly swiping through Bumble to find a distraction from my latest romantic failure, I got a Facebook message from Andy*. Intrigued by the sudden resume of contact, I responded. It didn't take long for that old familiarit...
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