a sweet love...

You deserve a sweet love. Uncomplicated. Sure. Stable. Consistent. You deserve that love. You deserve someone that's sure of you, that you're sure of.

He slid into my DM’s in mid-April. I was indifferent.

People I don’t know write to me often. It’s the nature of my work. Unclear as to why he had reached out my replies were friendly and casual, certain that this conversation, like many others, would eventually fade.

I went to London to see a friend and frequent a business meeting and he reached out again, asking if we could meet up. I replied that my days were full but if he was flexible I might have time between my last meeting and my train out of town.

My last meeting finished early so I texted and he came.

Sitting on a grassy hill on Primrose Hill on a warm summer’s day in mid-June this funny little man sat down next to me and we spoke with a familiar ease about the kismet parallel paths our lives had taken and laughed.

When he wriggled past me until I had to crane my neck to see him I asked “Where are you going?” giggling. Baffled by his movements he crab-walked back to his position opposite me including a 360-degree turn.

When he asked me if he could walk me to the station, I was about to say “You may” or “You can” but erroneously blurted out “You will!” which we laughed about for the rest of the afternoon.

When he accompanied me to look for 90’s supermodel sunglasses at kitsch souvenir shops in Camden he enthusiastically gave commentary and held my hand to cross a busy road and bought us icy cold Aperol spritzes to drink beside the canal.

I rode the train home light-hearted and joyful delighted by this one-off meeting with a kindred spirit. I thought no more of it. Sometimes the best things happen just once.

He followed up later that evening and suggested meeting up again soon. I said maybe when I’m down in London again.

Two days later he wrote:

“I don’t know how to play it cool. It’s not how I operate, or function. I want to see you. When can this happen?”

I adored the vulnerability and realness of it. I replied:

“I’m really flattered by your enthusiasm and while we only had a little time together I can sense that you are kind, generous, very funny, and sincere. I appreciate all of that… I would like to get to know you some more. And there’s no rush, is there? I don’t know what to suggest bc I’m not so close to London currently.”

Four days later I came to London to see him for 24 hours.

We walked and talked and laughed and cried and connected with the potential of something more but remained modestly courteous and sensitive to one another’s privacy and personal space as our friendship deepened. There is something precious that happens when two souls meet in recognition of each other.

I am no longer the starry-eyed romantic that falls in love haphazardly. I miss her. But I am not her any more.

Now I see my male counterparts in their full spectrum. Where their light and their shadow join to make their wholeness. Where the way they make me feel and the integrity of their words and actions are more valuable than the fantasy I have of their potential.

One of the many mysteries of life is the power of two people coming together by kismet fate or chance and why that delicate balance works.

He is not a handsome man. He is not a fancy man. He does not fit the mould of the kind of man I imagined for myself.

He transcends those things.

He has an innocence and purity to his heart that is rare in men.

He makes me feel secure in a world that rifts and heals synonymously. I feel I can be wholly myself around him. I do not have to adjust myself in any way to feel safe. He encourages and celebrates me. He has conviction and knows what he wants.

We share very vivid dreams for life. We share a passion for wanting to have it all. We share an elegant courtesy for the fragility of each other’s humanness. We share a willingness to lean into the mystery and choose one another on our journey of discovery.

It is imperfect. It is honest. It is beautiful.

I want nothing more.

It is a sweet love.