Afraid to love.

"The Other" and I spent a large portion of yesterday together. It was a wonderful day and I must admit on more than one occasion I wished the rest of the world could be told to bugger off so I could just be in his arms and listen to the sound of his voice. (and occasionally dirtier things) Although we found we didn't have time for dirty things, we snuck a few minutes to sit by a lake, snuggle, talk, and make out. During the talking some incredibly romantic things were said and while half of me was melting into a gooey little puddle, another part of me freaked out wanting to run away, not literally but emotionally. I'm not entirely sure what it is that motivates this fear or reaction to a certain level of emotional intimacy, but there seems to be a level where it's too close for me to tolerate and I have to do or say something to back away.

Every word he said was something I had already said to myself although had not mentioned out loud, and wasn't sure if I ever would. I gave responses that would not encourage the line of thought being expressed, gagging his reaction. After I dropped him off, I let it all just swirl through my head for the 15 min drive to work. The duality of the feelings kept me from knowing at all how I actually felt. I wanted to smile and announce to the world that I was in love, but at the same time I wanted to run from anything resembling affection. Later in the afternoon I confessed to one of my friends both sides of my emotions and although she didn't say anything she hadn't said before it did calm me down a lot and allowed me to put more rational thoughts behind the fear.

This situation was particularly unique in the fact that it pointed out to that every time I want to run away from him I end up running right into his arms. Last night within minutes of talking to "The Other" online I had invited him to spend the majority of the night with me.