I spent an evening with the Yankee this week. What a wonderful time I had. He is one of the most loving, considerate, wonderful people I will ever know. I would be wise to love him for the rest of my days and never let him go. But alas…
When I made the decision to stop seeing him I wasn’t exactly sure why I was doing it. I knew in my bones that it was right but couldn’t name the feeling.
This month I fell in love with someone, probably for my first time ever (it was great and horrible, thanks for asking) and spending the evening with the Yankee in the midst of that was… made it crystal clear.
He rubbed my shoulder and it felt like an eraser on my skin. He touched my hair and I felt like a dog being poked. He whispered in my ear and I smelled his breath.
My body wasn’t tuned to love him. It’s like he was a song in A and my body was tuned to B flat. The intention was there but everything was coming out wrong.
I loved him for it of course but it would always be a little mistranslated.
So, I propose a toast.
Here’s to the lovers who are perfect on paper but who your body rejects, on it’s own accord. To listening to your body when it knows that. To doing right by and respecting it. To looking for something better when you’re sure nothing better exists.
Trust that it does.
There’s someone who plays in your key.