That may take time, but that’s okay.
I’m a patient man, and I’m more than willing to put in the reps if that’s what she needs to believe I’m for real. Her happiness and well-being are my priority now, and I’ll do what it takes to support her, even if that means taking things slower than I’d like to.
It’s not about me anymore, though. My entire world got turned around today when Holly walked into it. Irrevocably changed. I’ve officially been recalibrated to a new frequency. Hers.
Ours.
There’s something there, and I’m going to hold space for it to unfold and blossom, no matter how long that takes.
Anything for her.
For us.
Plant Therapy
Holly
“So, Jake is dreamy,” I announce to my plant-filled living room as I snuggle into my reading nook with a fresh cup of tea.
There, I said it.
It’s only been a few days since we met, but I’ve seen him every day. He’s brought me coffees and pastries and offered to help with little things around the shop. I’ve tried keeping things professional, but I can’t keep ignoring the way my body reacts to him every time I see him.
Heck, even when I think of him.
There’s this… softening, for lack of a better term. A softening that happens when he’s around, or when I replay our interactions in my mind after the fact, like right now. There’s a warmth in my heart space whenever I think of him. An effervescence that radiates throughout my body. It’s like his very presence somehow soothes this ache I’ve lived with for years.
The ache of loss. Of unrequited care. Of shattered dreams.
I feel hopeful when I’m around him. Buoyant. Safe. Dare I say, whole?
I know that’s ridiculous. I’ve always been whole.
“Everyone is a whole human after all,” I reason aloud. “And the idea that anything outside ourselves can somehow ‘complete’ us is a fallacy perpetuated by capitalism.” One we all buy into, unfortunately. Even me.
Goddess, especially me.
I totally went down ‘you complete me’ road at the beginning of my last relationship. Lost myself entirely in the games. Ignored my inner guidance and believed all the lies. Gaslighting can be hard to spot when you’re in the thick of it, smitten with the idea of love while only living a facsimile of it.
I reposition in my window seat, tucking the soft blanket closer around my body before taking another sip of tea. I don’t like thinking about that season of my life. Heck, I hated living it, and I think that’s what scares me here.
I don’t want a repeat of the life I worked so hard to leave. I don’t want to get into another all-in deep-dive situation with someone who doesn’t have the capacity to actually love anyone or anything beyond themselves. Goddess, I don’t want to be manipulated again. Or hurt.
I don’t think that’s what’s happening here though.
In my deepest self, the part I’ve tried to ignore, I know Jake is unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered before. He is a bastion of truth and calm. Unadulterated kindness and joy in human form. A rare breed of unicorn—the trifecta of wisdom, beauty, and solid character. Caring, consistent, cute.
Hot actually.
I can’t even with those forearms he’s always got on display with his shirt sleeves rolled up like he wears them for work. I never knew I was a forearm girl, but dang, his are sexy.
Pretty much everything about him is sexy, actually. Maybe even that beard.
He’s funny too, in his own way. Jake’s verged on dad-joke territory a few times, but considering his age, maybe it’s less about being a dad and more about finding humor in the small things.
“He’s older than me,” I tell the plants, focusing on the potted Cyclamen next to the stack of books on the shelf beside me. “That doesn’t matter, though. Love does.”
I can actually taste it in the coffee he’s brought me every day since we met. I can feel it in his helpful gestures, hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. That man is for real.
