And … breathe out.

It’s odd, you know. This feeling, these observations, this sense of satisfaction I’ve had lately.

I felt so unsettled for so long, like where I was just wasn’t where I was meant to be. It’s a fact that I wasn’t 100% thrilled to be where I was even a year ago, but wasn’t sure how to change that. For a long time I just rode out the waves; didn’t lean left or right, just tried my hardest not to fall off into the surf.

Then I grew weary of status quo, and knowing I could do better because I am capable of so much I aimed a little higher. And I hit my target, although admittedly not on my first try, and not even on the second. Not to rely too heavily on clichés, but …

Fuck it, I’m not feeling the poetry.

I think I love my job. I’m talking long term commitment kind of love, here, nothing like the last couple of clown-jobs I tried to make a go of. Those jobs were just that – jobs – and this is more on track with career stuff. I know it’s early in the relationship, but I think I know when it’s right.

And being in the city … oh, how I have missed the city. I know Minneapolis isn’t a sprawling metropolis like New York or Los Angeles; instead it is its own entity comprised of culture and kindness and anonymity and distance and so much more. Minneapolis is a small town that got too big too fast. She hasn’t lost the naiveté of her childhood but doesn’t realize the appeal of her maturity either.

And the guy. I don’t know what I can say about him that won’t jinx anything.

Not that I am superstitious. A-hem.

I met him online, naturally, and don’t scoff because that’s how I met almost all of you bitches (except you, Toots. Do you realize it’s been over TWENTY YEARS?? Uffda.). We chatted for weeks before we graduated to phone calls, and then I met him in person the day I interviewed for this job. We had a really nice dinner, sat next to a fireplace at the restaraunt and talked and talked and talked. Afterward, he walked me to my car and left me with a hug and a sweet, gentle kiss that I thought about the entire 90-minute drive home.

He has a very smooth, quiet voice and a laid back and settled personality, he’s comfortable with himself – and with me. He feels like a friend I’ve known forever who I have a secret crush on, except it’s not so secret anymore. When I got to his house the other night I was the lucky recipient of the perfect hug … one with my face tucked into the side of his neck, his arms wrapped all the way around me and a photographic memory of the exact moment I completely relaxed and melted into him. Eventually we sat on the sofa facing each other and holding hands, occasionally moving toward each other for a kiss or two (or ten) in between talking about this, that, the other. While less than perfect (because he’s human), he certainly is a good man with a good heart.

And to be honest … he has a really nice ass. I tell you that because that’s how I roll, and that’s what I notice. And kissing him feels a lot like coming home after a long day at work. He’s just that comfortable.

**sigh**

So much for not jinxing anything.

It’s been a long time, but I actually feel something for this guy.

Like I said, it’s odd, this feeling, these observations, this sense of satisfaction I’ve had lately.