No Ordinary Love

The richness of a new love, is intoxicating. I feel like a drunken fool, carrying on, almost making a merry mess out of myself. I feel alive, everything and it's beauty is ecstasy to me, and the actual conviction of all that surrounds me is quite frightening, in a madenning sort of way. I am not saying that the beauty of the season is making me feel like I am in love, for I am, with someone who I treasure and cherish for being true and realistic with me. I suffer as an idealist, but also am a realist and it's a terrible combination. Let's stop and analyze what I mean by this. I am an idealist, I want fairy-book tale style love. The whole princess, damsel-in-distress thing, though I am not a princess. I am a mother, a soldier and a woman, all rolled into one little mexican. This is how I am a realist. I am a sigle mother, an independent form of parent, existing on loneliness and on my own accord. I don't have to depend on a man to bring home the bacon, so to speak. I only have me, and my son only has to look at me to know that I am on this earth to guard him and to protect him, for that is my job...as a mother. It's odd how, all of a sudden you can go from succumbing to all this pressure, to feeling like you have the weight of the world magically lifted off your shoulders. All with the gentle persuasion of a new love. It's hard to deny an emotion. It is even more difficult to acknowledge it. To become vulnerable to something that you can not guarantee. I feel alive, like I have taken my first real breath. I was drowning and now I am flying, soaring high on love, and the emotional aspect of a relationship. I feel like someone out there accepts me as I am, not with rules and restrictions, but completely, the whole of me. And it's WICKED! So here goes, I shall place my bets on lucky number 20.....lol.....I love you.