I'm still floating on the high Texas Gurl gave me when she said she thought of me. It's the most intoxicating feeling to know that I'm being thought of, the joy amplified by knowing I'm in the thoughts of the same person occupying my own. Still, it feels surreal to like somebody as I do her, so much it hurts. So much my stomach aches at the thought of not being with her. My imagination is spinning with a million and one daydreams of her and I... and questions. I envision us fitting so well together during our brief visit that for the moment it'll seem like we're made for each other. And what the hell says that we aren't? Why can't I stop telling myself she's too good? Why can't I stop placing myself in the dirt upon which walk the women I adore? I piss and whine and bitch and moan about how nobody invites or lets me into their private circles, but in introspect, I realize that I'm the one who's dug the moat and denied anybody the drawbridge.
You know what I'm really afraid of? I'm scared to holy hell that she'll be the most amazing person I'll ever come across, and that I'll totally blow it by clapping shut like a clamshell and not fully letting her into my world, simply out of some imaginary secondary class I put myself in.
All this built-up anxiety... and I know it's needless. I know it'll dissolve in that moment we first meet. There at the arrival gate, it'll all just melt away along with my heart, and the rest of the world around our embrace.
What a lovely daydream. :-)