Elastic, the daily prompt.
I just got off Skype (because Hangout and I don’t get along) with a lover turned friend. I went to visit them in Prague, and pretty much upon arrival, I was sat down for a chat.
Them: “We’re going to have a romantic weekend, and once you leave Prague, we’ll just be friends”. To be clear, this wasn’t up for discussion, and I am not one to shy away from an experience just because I know it has an end. I live in hope. Always have, and I’m afraid I see no signs of this stopping.
My response was visceral: “It’s too soon to be reaching this point”. I really wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t involved enough to be upset, and I was too involved to ignore the potential of this relationship. Potential, being the unspoken brother of assumptions. And we know where those lead us to.
We savoured our four days together. I swan-dived into it, and cherished every second, like the last summer swim. I blurted out “I love you” right in the middle of sex. Not my proudest moment. They didn’t hear me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware of this at the time. In many ways, I felt naked in ways I wasn’t ready to reveal, and strangely I never felt uncomfortable.
On the last day, as we chilled in a bathtub at a fantastic Doughnuterie (yes, fancy doughnuts which make your feet curl in pleasure) I said it again. Or at least I’m sure I thought of it plenty while I was there. I told them to not feel pressured to respond since no response was expected. But I had to tell them since one of the rules for this transition from young lovers to friends would be to not speak about our feelings. So if I didn’t say it now, then when? Come to think of it, I may have said it on the second floor of a great bakery…. Who cares where.
Love…. Love is elastic. It’s a word that no matter how much you try to deform into something else; if left alone, it returns to its natural form: giving. And I will give them space and distance, and anything else they need to feel free and well; because love is always, always giving, even when you take.
And now I cerebrate upon this… Can a lover ever be just a friend? Or do we just find more wholesome ways of loving them?