With all my senses.

A few days have passed. So much has happened that I can’t put it all into words here. I simply can’t.

N. has occupied my thoughts just as much as G. throughout the week. If it were up to me to decide who I’d want to spend the rest of my life with, it would definitely be her.

There’s magic in her, and a simplicity I deeply value in people. Yet, at the same time, she’s as vibrant and complex as a rainbow. Awe. That’s the one word I’m certain of here.

We met for the first time yesterday. Spending an entire day with someone like that is an honor for me. I know I’m a worthy person. There are a few beautiful people in my life whom I value above all else. But the thought of a daily life with someone like her feels almost unimaginable.

At one point, G. said she thought I might be someone who could truly grasp her. Grasp, as in understand. I believe she’s right. And she’s someone who could understand me, too. She could guide me, correct me, lead me back to the right paths—paths I so often stray from, wandering into uncharted trails that lead to getting lost in the dark.

The meeting. So much conversation, so much silence. Touch. Smiles. Serious talks about the past, life, sex, love. Awkward moments blending with simply being oneself in the presence of someone who, not so long ago, didn’t exist.

Her mind is like a crystal mirror—you see yourself in it, and you realize you can be someone better, more complete. Yet still yourself.

And she’s a woman. From my dreams. Delicate, ethereal, subtle, unrestrained, beautiful. Her lips… The upper lip slightly thinner and a bit crooked, as if she bites them in a perpetual grimace. Her face at times radiates wisdom and maturity, only to suddenly glow with youthful light. Her hands—delicate but strong, veined, like the sculpture of a laboring artist who forgot what a woman’s hand looks like and modeled them on his own. I like her feet… They’re exactly as they should be. All of this affects me… erotically. I don’t know how I’ve managed to handle it and not get completely lost in these feelings yet. Probably only because of yoga. I often had to make a great effort to look into her eyes when I could catch the outline of her hip and thigh from the corner of my eye. I decided to set those feelings aside because I know myself, and I don’t want to start longing for her body at this stage. If we’re meant to experience each other in that way, it will happen. But that doesn’t mean I have to dwell on it.

More than twelve hours spent together. Exhaustion. A huge emotional effort. And regret—too little time, too quickly over.

Women like her don’t exist. They are dreams. Fantasies. Unattainable ideals from a realm beyond human comprehension. And yesterday, I was allowed to dream. To feel her touch, her presence, to listen to her voice, and marvel at her face and the emotions that bloomed on it. I’ve woken up now. But I dream of dreaming again.

19.12.2024
How different everything looks today. How full of emotion it is now. Not the emotions that accompanied that first meeting. So much sadness. Too much sadness. And yet, G. is a miracle. Can anything be done about it?