The past nearly three weeks back in Ubud have been about spending time with the man who came into my life in early February. And the more I know him, the more I want to know. He’s deeply comfortable in his own skin, very affectionate and attentive, mature and wise, as steady as a rock. He is patient and kind, spunky, very manly and very funny. His voice makes me swoon.
Some highlights: I spent two days at his house overlooking the rice fields for Nyepi (Balinese New Year) and Silent Day. One night he quietly sang me an ancient mantra, his arms wrapped around me in the dark. He encouraged me to sing and to dance. Naked.
Early one morning, he rode alongside me on his motorbike as I ran for an hour and a half on the outskirts of Ubud. He smoked a cigar and sang “Eye of the Tiger” to amuse and inspire me.
We’ve eaten together most nights (sometimes he cooks). He’s a better Scrabble player than I am. He helped me with a tedious task and enjoyed doing it. He is younger than I am, and feels just right.
We are flying to Kuala Lumpur this afternoon for three days together before I return to Florence.
The gods in Bali have definitely been smiling on me.