Towards You: the Weeend

I'm now home after one of the most incredible weekends of my life. I don't know that I can explain what happened, but I feel different to the person that I was before, and yet exactly the same.

As I knew Ben had been working abroad on a conservation project, intellectually I had steeled myself for limited contact. He had so far proven himself to be un-distractible from his work. He would remain resolutely focussed, and I had learned that I fit into the space outside of his work. He made this clear to me, but kindly, and I had accepted and prepared myself to contort into it. I wondered whether he'd remember his invitation when he returned, attempting both to will it into being and to prepare my heart from disappointment. Emotional hedging of bets, something I knew rarely ended acceptably and yet I felt powerless to stop. The swell of this love affair was growing in intensity and every moment I remained there more vivid than before.

When he returned he had immediately invited me to stay with him, and I felt gratified by the speed at which I had reached the top of his agenda. A weekend in Cambridge, he proposed. He take me to the Orchard Tea House, we'd sit in the garden and read to each other. The promised glass of wine, and the implied activities of afterwards. I knew he was trying to impress me and yet I didn't care. It sounded like my ideal way to spend a day! I didn't know what else to expect but surrendered myself to his plans. A small voice in me queried how my assertive personality had been overcome so easily. Is this you? It asked. Where have you gone? I didn't really know, and perhaps more importantly I didn't care. Does the cliff mind being eroded by the passion of the sea, or does it let go, willingly?

The train trip up to London was nothing spectacular, I found myself willing the time away. I made it to King's Cross earlier than anticipated and it gave me time for a quick snap of platform 4 and 3/4 before jumping on the train. A quick call to Ben to say I made the earlier train brought nerves whooshing into my stomach. To hear his voice again reminded me that he was still very much a stranger, and the last two weeks of crazy pining had been all on my own, and the intimacy I'd imagined was going to have to be created between us all over again. His voice you see, was so incredibly his, that I couldn't quite believe that after all the time I'd thought about seeing him, in 45 minutes I was really going to.

I felt suddenly unsteady, waiting in my seat. Until now the intensity of my feelings had felt solid, unshakeable. The current I had let myself be swept away in had felt inevitable, part of some larger plan. And yet now, as the city began to roll away past my window, I was reminded of that first dinner after the symposium, where Ben's attention had felt probing, demanding, alarming. The remains of my as yet untested passion lingered in my gut, and I mentally tried to cling onto those threads. The alternative was worse, hurtling towards a man I'd barely met to spend 48 hours of intense time alone with him. I pushed my fear aside. This will be fine! Everything's fine. You're excited about this. This is thrilling.

The train to Cambridge was hell. I tried to read, I tried to pay attention to the countryside and failed at both. I ended up just sitting there in agony for about 25 minutes. For the last ten, a particularly charming 2 year old played peekaboo with me - I don't think he realised he was actually helping me out more than I was him. We arrived, then the slow interminable walk from the platform to the entrance. Should I carry my bag on my shoulder or in my hand? I don't want him to think it's heavy, and that I've packed to many things, so it should be hand. But it is heavy. Ok so shoulder to the doors, and then you can suffer it in your hand from there. I arrived at the doors, and couldn't see him. Chill. Get your ticket out, and get through the gates. There he is. Don't panic. More whooshing.

We said hello, then hugged and I leaned in for a kiss. I got it, but it was definitely a little awkward. I'd imagined that it might be, but I had steeled myself to do it regardless as I wanted to be unambiguous as to my feelings. I'd come to Cambridge to be Ben's lover, something that terrified and thrilled me. He took me to a taxi and we drove to his cottage. The weekend of Ben had begun!