Butterflies

I'm meeting up with The Photographer for the first time in about ten days, since he left. We're going to have one of those proper relationship talks. About us, about whether we can work it out, about what sort of kinky life together we can have, if any at all. It feels strange to have come all this way with him and have had all of those fantastic experiences but still be prepared to stop if practicalities get in the way. However, whilst I do love him and I love the sex we have and just being around him I also need to be realistic. Alongside a roller coaster BDSM adventure, I want and need security in a long term partner and that means ironing out some of the ifs and buts of polyamory - what sort of life can we have, and can I live that life?

I have butterflies. I actually quite like butterflies, in the same way that I like pins and needles, driving rain and really bitter tasting drinks. They are a not-quite-pleasant shudder through the system, sensations that remind me of being alive. The combination of excited / nervous is one I hope I never stop having. I never want to be so dull or innured to the world or to my feelings that I can drift through life blase and unaffected. I know I've been really up and down lately, but that's part of it, part of being me, now. I'd rather be buffeted about a bit with high highs and low lows than have everything on an even (boring) keel.

What I'm trying to say is that no matter what happens tonight I have no regrets. None at all.