How long?

After an especially long posting-hiatus, I’ve got a million things to tell you. Many of which boil down to “I’m so so in love with Professor Chaos!” It’s Sappy, Goopy, Post-lyrics-on-Facebook, Love. Wherein we hold hands in public, kiss in elevators and generally just make everyone else around us sick.

Yeah, they’re sick with Jealousy. (No, but seriously, we’re really hot.)

I want to be shouting it from the rooftops, but I haven’t even written about it here. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and I’m afraid to Jinx it.

At five months, maybe it’s a little silly to be worried about jinxing it, but I really don’t want anything to go wrong. There is more here than attraction, connection, and chemistry. Chaos and I have real potential. To be a thing, like, a thing-thing.

I’m not going to pin one hundred percent of my recent stint of blog silence on an (quite possibly rational) fear that writing the wrong thing may well sabotage what could possibility be the most significant relationship in my life, but it hasn’t helped. I’m not sure whether it’s sillier at five months to worry so much that a bad post will end it, or to think that at five months, that I (kinda, sorta, maybe) would like us to keep being a thing forever.

Of course, my parents were engaged three months after they met (and it’s not like my dad was some foreign prince seeking asylum in the loving arms of my mother, lest he be deported back to those godless commies, and certain death. Or, at least that’s not what they told me.)

His Majesty, expressing joy at the unveiling of his royal portrait.

I am at a bit of a loss as how to describe it.

What do you call that feeling that’s the opposite of heartbreak?

That overwhelming swelling in  in your chest when you think of the one you love. There’s a shining moment of clarity, where you see sprawling behind you the vast unlikeliness of everything that made being with them possible, and the only reason you don’t laugh at the sheer joy of being so fortunate is that it weighed against the massively tenuous grasp you have on the them, and the moment, and possibility of the future populated with infinite opportunities to lose it all.

Do you laugh or cry? How could you be so lucky? and how long can your luck hold out?

I’m in love with her. There is no way to get close enough to her, no way to spend enough time with her, no way to feel as good as I do than when her skin is pressed against mine.