Dear Angela,
I spent last month volunteering with an environmental organization, clearing paths and cleaning up garbage and debris from a national forest. While I was there, I met a woman with whom I felt an immediate affinity. She and I had the most incredible first date of my life–we talked for many hours about our lives, and somehow we were able to immediately be completely open with each other. And one of the first things we determined is that she wants kids and I don’t, and neither of us wants a long-distance relationship and neither of us is able to move (really, we can’t; this isn’t a “if you cared enough, you would,” situation).

Still, seeing that we didn’t have a future together, we ploughed right ahead, and I’ve never come to love someone so quickly or deeply. There were things about our connection that helped me see myself more clearly than I ever have, and being with her was so deeply comforting and exhilarating and mind-blowing. We gave ourselves over to this completely perplexing and surprising love that came out of nowhere.

And then the month was over, and we both went home. We’re trying to stay in touch, as friends, and already I can see how hard it is going to be. Because I love her, and part of me would give up anything (or take on anything) to be with her. And yet I have this sense that even though we could be together, we’re not quite right. I want her to have kids with someone who longs for kids. I want to be with someone who is happy to have the freedom of not having kids. I want to be in love with someone who doesn’t live two thousand miles away. And I want to be friends with her, but it really hurts to have anything but that intense love with her. What should I do now? Should I have never gone there in the first place? What’s the point of love, anyway?

–Roughed up in Raleigh


Dearest RuiR,

Hurray to you both for taking a chance on love! There is nothing better than flinging open your heart to a kindred spirit. And there’s more to love and life than what we can understand in the rational mind. It’s great that you honored your intuition and allowed yourself to connect with her, despite the obvious obstacles. (It might’ve been different if you’d withheld your misgivings–but when two consenting adults know the score and go there anyway, there’s something more powerful at work than logistics.)

So what now? Well, you could continue to keep your heart open and tune into your intuition. You can tell her exactly what you told me–that you want to be friends, but it’s hard. That you long to be with her, even as you wonder if being together would be creating too great a loss for both of you.

Be authentic, not so much about your conclusions and stories about the situation, but about what’s really alive for you–how you’re feeling, what you’re needing. If you need space, ask for it. If you want to protect the connection, tell her that. If you wonder if maybe you don’t care about anything rational, and that all you can think about is throwing everything to the wind and being with her, tell her that. All in the spirit of what’s authentic in the moment. Keep sharing your authentic feelings and listening to hers.

Let time pass naturally. Trust that things will work themselves out if you keep showing up, and that you can handle uncomfortable feelings if they arise. Do this all in the spirit of love. That’s the best you can do, for yourself and for her, and it’s more than good enough.

Authentic Kisses,
Angela

P.S. Are kids (or no kids) always a deal breaker? The Naked Truth wants to hear your story.