In complete contrast to my previous post, I received two phone calls. One from a dear friend and another from an almost stranger.
The dear friend went on to tell me how proud she was of me and that she’d try to visit if her job didn’t conflict.
The other call was about thirty minutes. It was a long stumbling soliloquy that could be summarized in the following sentence:
“I wish I could protect you from harm, but I have to let you go now because I love you and was too scared to admit it before.”
I had to cheerfully help this man sort out his feelings and that he needed to be bolder, convince him that he was a nice person but not right for me yet, but right in the way to tell me I’m worthy of a kind, gentle love, the kind in the story books.