I was consumed all last week and this weekend with giddy preparations as I awaited my Philip's arrival for a visit on Tuesday.
Nails, hair, skin, laundry, car repairs, meal planning, visibly glowing in anticipation. I was even able to get an ample amount of time off to bask in my time with my Philip, in our freedom to have and to hold each other for as much time as possible.
I've never felt this way about anyone before. Everyone knows. Most of all, I know it.
I'm still shaking from a new, deep, sorrowful pain. I've been hurt so many times in my past, by other peoples' actions, but never have I hurt someone else through my own actions.
Actions that were not me.
Actions that were not wanted.
Actions that were not, and are not, Duncan.
The pain of losing my Philip -- even the fear of possibly losing him -- makes me hold my breath, get dizzy, and want to lie in a fetal position on the ground.
I feel faint when I am awake. When I am asleep, my body is still tense, and I dream of being advised to serenade him with the truth that can sometimes only be found in music.
I dreamed that I ran into Ryan Adams in Savannah. We chatted and he suggested that I should sing to Philip. Adams had on a terrific hat. I forgot to ask about about wife Mandy and their Savannah wedding.
I woke up with the song in my head. I posted it to Facebook, to share with Philip and for anyone who wants to see what love sounds like, if even for a millisecond in cyberspace.
To Philip, a serenade, from my dreams and into our reality:
All of this pain and sorrow because of a few drops of a disgusting brown liquid taken in jest that have historically and genetically been forbidden to enter my system -- poisoned my moment, destroyed my judgement, and have led me to the edge of almost losing it all. Evil.
A mantra of sincerity. A declaration of truth. A devotion to the Truth of Love.
It was not me.
I am not that, in body or soul.
I have hurt the love of my life.
I don't know how I can cope with the fear of losing him.
I've met my One. My Only.
The person whose heart I can see into, and whom I want to see into mine.
I love my Philip. I always have. And I always will.