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There are fireworks going off in my head.

Neurons, synapses firing into little flowers of knowing.

Connections being made.

Could it be true?

Did I really do that?

Ever have one of those moments where a bunch of things take on new meaning – so much so that you’re a bit overwhelmed. I certainly did yesterday.

I love. I was loved. I am loved. Shakespeare was right when he wrote “love alters not with [Time’s] brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom”. I should have accepted that long ago but I spent an awful long time trying to change what I felt. What changes is not the love, but how it works. There are many kinds of love, so many that it still amazes me that there is only one word for it. Shakespeare was so confident in his observation he even wrote “if this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

So I made a mistake. (One could argue that there are no mistakes, only learning experiences and I would be one of the first to agree – because without these ‘mistakes’ I’d not be where I am now.) I pushed what I felt out of my head so I could move on. At the time it was the only way I could manage moving on and I even thought it was healthy, but what I needed to have done is to accept what I felt for what it was.

Of course, that also means reevaluating a few things.