I’m finally going to meet Gawan soon, and the date is approaching rapidly.

Rapidly? Well, yes and no. From one angle, the days seem to plod. But from the perspective of my aspirational and overly optimistic to-do list, I almost feel rushed. Ah, who am I kidding? The to-do list is a small part of it but the meeting itself will be momentous, and it is that fact which is playing tricks with the passage of time.

Over the course of months, I’ve been exploring some of the nuance and flavors of anticipation. At the beginning I couldn’t be sure if or when I would get an email from him, and whenever one arrived, a dose of adrenaline shot through me. I probably grinned like a fool. Although I’ve now come to expect a daily email, I still get that adrenaline hit. Every. Time.

After we had gotten to know each other pretty well, he asked if I would like him to make the trek to my city, and perhaps do some of the things we had discussed in more theoretical and/or flirtatious moments. I was floored. In addition to looking forward to his emails, I was now looking forward to the possibility of meeting him. But that form of anticipation was immediately elbowed into the background by the massive preliminary issue of running the idea past Wolf, a task that was delayed by the fact that Wolf and I had been in different countries for a couple of months at the time. This was not something to be discussed by email or Skype.

It was over a month before I gave Gawan my answer: Yes. From that point, my anticipation about the meeting stepped forward into the spotlight but remained as amorphous as our plans.

Slowly those plans began to coalesce: he would come here briefly, then we’d go someplace interesting. Someplace that was warm and required a passport, and maybe a phrasebook. I had the notion that a new bikini wouldn’t go amiss. As the idea began to take shape, anticipation grew.

Finally, a destination. Dates. Tickets were bought. He was definitely coming, and suddenly it was right around the corner. Anticipation, like a limelight-hogging tenor approaching a crescendo, is now upstaging almost everything else.

And I am all a-squee, like unto a schoolgirl 🙂

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