We can call him "B"!

He wasn't talking about me... or, he didn't think he was talking about me. How could he be?! we barely knew each other. He was talking about someone else, someone he knew before... in another life. He was talking about a woman, a first love. He was talking about someone who became the model in his mind for everything he wanted in another person... everything he wanted to be in love with, all in one package.

No other woman would come close in comparison... it showed in his eyes as he listed off the details that would make up his perfect fantasy love interest... details that were clearly drawn from lived inspiration, and still lived in vivid color within his memory.

"I just want some hippy chick, with wild hair, and a free spirit. I want to find someone who is always barefoot and has a habit of just taking her clothes off whenever she wants, just because she wants to feel the air on her skin. I want to be in love with a woman who doesn't stay inside anyone else's lines..."

He wasn't talking about me... he was talking about a memory that he hoped would come around a second time in life. But as his eyes sparkled with the hopeful imaginings of a great love reincarnated, I couldn't help but be reminded of myself. Everything he said, was an acute reflection of myself. He wouldn't necessarily know this... most of what he knew of me, was the version dressed in cold-weather, men's clothes, working a job that slowly eroded my sense of self, and at a time in my life when all the things about myself that I valued and loved, were under question and I largely doubted whether or not, I, as a package... was even something anyone saw as being worthwhile. With this, my sense of self was slipping farther and farther away.

So, what he saw, I'm sure... was a woman off-balance and unsure of herself, a woman grasping for a sense of identity or direction; not at all the confident, free love, free-spirited, "in with the tide and out with the breeze" type woman that he idealized. He was right... at that moment and point in my life, I wasn't any of those beautiful things... I lost them, but they weren't always lost, and they still lived somewhere inside, under all the muck, layered on by others... other opinions, other expectations, other judgments, other ridicule, other statements, other humiliation, and other belittlings.

Somewhere under all of that, was still the girl who liked to feel the dirt under her feet and wind between her toes. Somewhere inside, was still a person who played in the rain, danced to my own beat, and danced just for myself. I was still the woman who strips her clothes off in the night air, just to feel the kiss of the cool dark on my skin. I was still alive... somewhere, inside!

This isn't a story about a man falling in love with me, and it isn't even a story about me wanting him to... it's a story about how he helped me fall back in love with myself. It's about how, with just a few lines, He helped me see that everything I'm made of, and everything I love about myself - was absolutely endearing and lovable, and worthwhile. He showed me how the parts of myself that some people tear down, are also the parts that will light someone else up, from within.

As he told me his story, I watched his eyes light up as he daydreamed of finding his perfect girl, somewhere out there... and I wasn't her, not for him... But it made me realize that somewhere out there, there is someone whose eyes are lighting up for me in the moonlight, as they fantasize about the day they will finally find me. And that, still, to this day, makes my eyes light up, every time I remember myself, and how worthy I am of being loved, for all the reasons I want to be; and there is a real chance that it is me, that I've been waiting for... that it's my eyes that will light up for me when I show up for myself in all the right ways.

There may never be another person who loves me the way I love myself... but in the night, in the dark, with no direction and no map... a kind man with stars in his eyes and love in his voice, helped me find myself again.