Redwood

I've never had an anxiety attack before. 

At least nothing like this.

I knew the fever played its part in my passion and tears. 

But I also knew that I felt completely helpless. 

Like I was drowning. 

And my life was wickedly repeating itself, the same dissonant chords resonating in my broken heart. 

I didn't even realize it still bothered me, the pain of being shut out like a leper.

It seemed so long ago and so much has happened since, I reckoned it was all in my past, one of the many bruises of my heart, buried and healed. 

But suddenly in that instant, it all came rushing back. 

His refusal to have any communication with me, to offer no response to such a genuine iota of emotion, led my heart spiraling down a familiar dark corridor. 

It was happening all over again.

Just as before. 

And just as the one before him. 

And if I could have stepped out of myself to just reason with myself perhaps I would have been able to breathe a little more easy. 

It didn't mean anything yet. Only time could reveal that.

I managed to sleep through the night and when I awoke felt much calmer. 

Sad, but calm. 

I dragged myself into work and everyone was so kind I nearly burst into tears. 

I'd been a ball of heartbroken misery for so many hours, isolated in bed, and their loving faces melted my doubting heart. 

I wanted to have the strength to stay but after an hour I gave in to the fatigue and left to crawl back into bed. 

I slept for several more hours and awoke thinking maybe I was actually feeling better. 

Those minutes after first waking up are the best. 

Nothing else has filled the mind except the light bouncing off the leaves outside my window. 

I haven't thought about the texts I deleted from my phone or the fact there may never be another one from him again. 

I took a deep breath and got up to get a drink and my mind seemed suddenly less hazy. 

The lover I met last fall contacted me and let me know he would be in town again someone soon. 

I went to my bookcase and reached for the book he'd recommended that I so eagerly bought and then managed to never finish reading. 

He was the one time I truly let my guard down, in spite of myself. 

We fell asleep in each other's arms and when we woke we conversed for hours over eggs and coffee out of tin mugs. 

I foraged a friendship out of passion. 

And that was more rare than the passion itself. 

It was such an accident meeting him, the weekend my other lover was out of town, putting me on black out, declaring he wanted his space and I completely obliged. 

I hadn't made the date out of spite, more as something to do to keep me occupied. 

And after all, he was incapable of being mine exclusively so he held no ownership over my heart or my body or the wild stirrings deep inside of me. 

And I'm grateful for all of that for so many reasons but mostly I am grateful right now. 

Because a year ago I couldn't imagine life without the man I had fallen for. 

And being reunited has been incredible and confusing and as unclear as it was all those months ago. 

But I know now I can imagine life without him because I've lived it and I've loved and I've experienced pure joy and unassailing passion. 

I don't deny my disappointment over what seems to be as sudden a parting as our sudden reunion. 

But I don't feel anxious anymore. 

Clutching this book, I'm now as eager to read, I remembered who I am, in spite of his efforts to make me doubt. 

I am a vibrant, passionate woman who loves with an intense fire.

And I don't need any man, not even him, to be the receiver of that love. 

Because I choose who I share my passion with. 

And wonderful, intense connections aren't nearly as rare as I once believed. 

Besides I've learned it's not the men who will bed you that matter. 

It's the ones who will take you for brunch after. 

The brunch they know you love more than any other meal of the day. 

And he'd never taken me to brunch.

Never posed for a photograph like I asked. 

Never invited me to sleep in his sheets.

Because somehow we only ever got stuck in the passion and never found any connection beyond that.

He never needed one. 

Because I know now I was only ever a fantasy for him.

And I longed for so much more than passion.

Because when a man is a true lover he wants what you want, what's best for you, what makes your soul soar which then makes you so divinely irresistible.