Foreign Love

Page thirty;

“Incoming text message”

“Dinner tonight. Pick you up at six.”

Blush, heart pounding

This feeling, imagined only in dreams

Now a reality;

Page sixty;

“Incoming text message”

“Sitting outside your house now. Come see me.”

Glances in the mirror, adjusting the baby hairs and flyaways;

Stomach churning–unsure;

Relaxing car ride, soft music

Hysterical laughter in the small booth,

The movie meant nothing

His hands meant everything;

Ten PM, sitting in the driveway

Deep breaths

Soft kiss, and another, and another

Heavy breathing, wandering hands

This foreign love was everything imagined

And so much more.

<a href=””>Foreign</a&gt;


I’m sitting here on my couch this morning, mine and Ryan’s legs tangled up together. While he plays some video games, and I happened to remember when him and I started dating. At first, I thought it was just going to be a little fling while he was home on leave (for those of you who haven’t read my past entries, Ryan is in the Air Force) and that would be the end of it.

That’s not what happened, friends. He had me from the very first date, and he told me that I had him.

The feeling of being so happy was so new to me, I didn’t know how to act, I didn’t know how to feel. The only relationships I had been in (except for one, my first serious relationship) had been extremely toxic and emotionally draining. Those relationships added up to about three years of toxicity and sadness, so when Ryan came into my life, I was almost scared of the feelings I had. It was foreign to me. A year later, I can say to you that I have never been this happy in my life, and I am so glad that I made the choices that I did.

Much love, my friends.



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