Falling in Love is Beautiful, but It Can Also Be Confusing

On falling in love with a sense of incompleteness.

Emma London
Jul 7, 2020 · 5 min read
Photo by Piotr Wilk on Unsplash

ue to the pandemic, for the last three months and a half, Mr P. and I spend our time together mostly at his house. We also go for walks in the forest or parks, or go for a long drive. We enjoy it all — we laugh, we have great sex, we talk about our lives, deepening the knowledge we have of each other, and feeling ourselves. But I wonder if that is enough for a relationship to thrive; for the roots that we are watering to grow steady and robust. We met not long before the lockdown, so we didn’t experience social life. We only spend time exclusively with each other.

You get to know someone — the parts that are accessible to you — through actions and interactions.

Through Mr P.’s actions, I already learned that he is a reliable person, that he is caring and trustworthy. I know he has sarcastic dark humour; that he hates people being late and he doesn't tolerate lies. I also know that he is not a people’s person; however, he accepts engaging in ice-break chatting for the sake of being polite (as expected from an English person.) I know he hates coffee and doesn’t appreciate tea. I know his favourite food and the ones he hates.

I know Mr P. makes me laugh, that he comforts me in my weak moments, he feels proud of my successes, he hugs me tight after and during sex, that he desires my body and enjoys my mind. I know he likes me for who I am.

I know a lot about Mr P., the same way he knows a lot about me. However, because we don’t spend time engaging with other people; because we never went for a meal out or clubbing, I feel there’s a gap between us.

My lack of knowledge about Mr P. was never a problem; I’ve been relaxed and enjoying getting to know him. But last night something changed. Last night, I realised I might be falling in love with him.

Falling in love is beautiful, but it can also be confusing

I’m not in love with Mr P., but my feelings for him are growing, day by day — I am falling for him. It’s a lovely sensation, one I’m embracing calmly. I’m not repressing my feelings; there’s no reason for that.

We are in a “let’s see where it goes” type of relationship, and I feel Mr P. has the same feelings for me that I have for him. We are both taking it slowly, and deliciously savouring every bit of our time together (physically or in a distant presence.). We are not pressuring anything; not rushing; not asking for more or less. We live happy with what we have.

We accept what we have as it is: we don’t daydream, compare or wish. But a question comes into my mind:

How can I be falling for someone that I never met in another context if not alone with me?

I’m not one to believe in “love and a cabin” — for me, true love carries it all: a romantic cabin, the fucked up days; the bad humour, the lovely devotion; good friends, screwed family, and crazy colleagues. True love is a full package.

I trust my guts more than anything in life, and I feel Mr P. is one of the good guys. I feel it, and he has proven it to me, on so many different occasions. Still, incompatibilities happen.

The tricky question came up last night when talking to my friend at 11 pm. I called her because I was distressed: I had a two hours phonecall with Mr P. where something mental happened: he was cheering me up, from a problem I have, and in a specific moment I felt it clearly: I’m falling in love with you!

When I realised my potential feelings for Mr P. I had to talk to my friend; I had to hear me talking about it. It wasn’t a full surprise; I even wrote a piece on it. I just wasn’t not expecting to feel it with such certainty so soon, and during a phone call!

Mr P. and I have an amazing sex life; I’m having the time of my life. Despite that, I always knew that I like him as a human being. I feel immensely close to him when we have sex and even more in our aftercare moments. But I never confused sex hype with feelings. I knew that it would be anything but sex that would make me fall for him. Not meaning that sex doesn’t have a weight. It does, a lot. But it’s not the reason to fall for someone.

I might be falling for an incomplete Mr P.

I only know a part of him (and the same applies to me); I never saw him engaging with the staff of a restaurant or a shop, with his friends, or my friends. He’s a bit of an introvert — which I know only because he told me, I never witnessed it. We met online; we spend several weeks texting and talking on the phone before we met so when that happened, he was relaxed enough to be spontaneous with me. What if he is socially awkward? Will I be able to cope with that?

I’m reading my words, and trust me, I’m aware that I’m overthinking. But I also know that what I realised last night is a huge thing for me. It has been years since I was in love with someone. I take time to trust, to attach, to allow myself to be vulnerable to someone. Not out of fear, but out of compatibility. With Mr P. I felt we had the latter since day one. And that acknowledgement felt so good.

During our phone call, I asked Mr P. if he wanted to meet my friends. Lockdown in the UK is now lifted, we are allowed to meet with other people. My friends are a vital part of my life, so, for me, it’s important for them to meet the man I’m dating. Not for acceptance or the opposite, but to know him. And him, knowing them as well.

Mr P. accepted the invitation, so, soon, we will hang out with my friends. Also, we will go to a pub next week; and when restaurants open, we will have meals out and spend the night in a hotel in one of the enchanted towns of England. Doing all of that, I will have a full perspective of Mr P. and him, mine. And then we will have a full picture of each other. Will we still feel the same?

If I had a choice, I’d wait until doing all these activities to open my heart to Mr P., but apparently, I didn’t have a choice. His personality, his devotion, and lovely presence in my life did the work. I’m falling in love with the guy.

Emma London writes

“Ordinary life does not interest me” — Anais Nin

Emma London

Written by

Writing on Sex and Relationships . Freelancer Email: emmalondon@emmalondonwrites.com | Buy me a coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/emmalondon

Emma London writes

Stories about sex, love, relationships and Emma London’s kinks

Emma London

Written by

Writing on Sex and Relationships . Freelancer Email: emmalondon@emmalondonwrites.com | Buy me a coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/emmalondon

Emma London writes

Stories about sex, love, relationships and Emma London’s kinks

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