Meanwhile, over here, the presumably former sweetie remains in that state. I've been informed that he's very upset, realizes that I'm badly hurt (though whether he realizes =how= is not clear), and is afraid of saying the wrong thing. What he apparently can't grasp is that saying "the wrong thing" and being willing to stick around and try to clarify would be much better than the current not-saying-anything.
So it goes.
On the other hand, I talked with my sweetie on the other coast this weekend, which always lifts my spirits.
And . . . how to phrase this? I'd been brazen and shameless, and told someone new that I liked them, was attracted to them, and wanted to get to know them better. We've gone out together a few times, and each time, I've felt a little less timid (though perhaps more intimidated: said person is from a different world in many ways, and knows a vastly different range of information).
Recently, we went out for live music, and conversation afterwards, which led to many hours of holding each other. Good hands. I am fascinated by the shape and structure of their hands, and the strange dark hazel eyes, and the mind shaping the words that come out of that clear composed voice; I like the scent and texture of their skin, the shape of the mouth, the tilt of the head, watching me with a long asymmetrical smile. . . .
I'm still intimidated by the mind, but I want to know more.
** ** ** ** **
I should add that Soren is the first partner I've had who's been actively, enthusiastically positive about my other relationships, to the point of occasionally saying, "Have you talked to/spent time with X/Y/Z lately?" He "gets" poly the way I do, where things that make one of us happy make our household happy, where we don't have to be with each other every moment, so long as the connection between us stays strong and clear.
=And= he's cheerfully curious about as much detail as I feel like telling, which, at times, can be a lot of amazed burbling about vocal timbre, speech patterns, the way someone's lashes reflect the light and lay against the cheek. And sometimes it's silence, or "It was good." And if it's the first, he rejoices with me in the details; if it's the others, he accepts the silences.
