I met The One, twice

It was on a Saturday, around lunch, and I still remember the friend on the other side of the table. It was the morning after the first night I slept with the man who would become my lover.
And I think I understood the significance of our connection, right then and there, over coffee with the friend.
As I told her about the amazing sex, and all the wooing that had preceded it.
Weeks and weeks of intoxicating flirting, warmth, play and challenge..

In how I talked about it, my friend detected a little hesitation to give it a label, status, or to express what I hoped would happen relationship-wise or something. As if I could control the situation by controlling the words I used to describe it.
She said: “That ship has sailed.”
I was fucked.

This post is a first attempt, to find out how to go about this new situation.
This new man.
Because I feel my policy to only value something if it is visible and present in the 3D, is no longer working here. And with regard to my feelings, just giving it time to pass has not worked. If anything, it has gotten worse.
And this is all after having multiple experiences with different men, all in recent years, where I could feel the interest in them come and go. I do know how very few connections actually survive.

But the man from the first paragraph?
My feelings never faded and even survived the breakup, still pristine. But I’m happy the affair ended, in the way Nikki Sixx is happy he quit heroin but still acknowledges it was the love of his life.
Nikki and me, we’ll will never find something that intoxicating again. But we’ll pass.

But other than him?
Time has devoured every connection I ever cried over, including my feelings for all whom I met in recent years.
All, except one.
Where time only seems to be making it “worse”.
Quotation marks because there is a chance that it already is exactly what it is meant to be.

Something 5D.
Something destined
Something that does not have words.
And yet includes all words that were ever spoken.

Something that cannot be ended, not by human hands, and that can therefor also never start.
Something where the ship took off the moment our eyes locked.

And we are unmistakably and inevitably, fucked.

.~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

Harteveld 2026*
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