I’m not in love...

No, I’m not.  And as of last week the Pope stopped being Catholic.  Oh well. *grin*  Down the rabbit hole again.  I’m not in love, but I do love her.  I feel... alive... again.  Yea.  Alive.

Give or take two weeks ago I took a woman and her child into my home to give sanctuary, it was needed.  I was fond of her, fascinated by her, well before this went down.  She can power the gift of the muse for me and in my world that is a huge thing of great value.  In many ways I am transparent to her, and she to me, the intimacy between us of surprising depth allowing for no longer than we've known each other.  We’re not lovers of the body, we’ve agreed that will be our farewell to each other when it is time to part.  What we trade are perceptions of each other, and benefit by what we share, ours is a strange affair of the heart.  She calls me her mentor, and I chuckle.  I’ve learned more from her than she from me, I’m sure of that, at least by the numbers.  But I do have twice her years, and from time to time that allows me perceptions of value to her as well.

While she was staying with me she did everything she could to earn her keep, she did far more than I would ever ask or expect of anyone.  Besides cooking some of the most delicious food I’ve had in a long time she stepped in as soft momma for my niece, doing in days what us clumsy boys hadn’t accomplished in years.  Sometimes it just takes a woman’s touch, you know?

She can’t stay, it’s impossible.  She has her man, she loves him.  Even if she didn't I'm to old for her, it would be unfair to her to ask her love what would be lost before its' time in her life.  Yea, I'm in one of those.  But... for what it is while it is I treasure her company.  And, when it's over I'm calling in several favors and throwing one hell of a drunk.  Just to give myself permission, you know?