Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts
I know it's gonna be a rough day when . . .
I am getting ready for work, step out the shower and am putting on lotion when I realize only one of my legs is shaved and I cannot for the life of me, remember if I shaved one leg twice or just completely missed it all together.
in my perfect world
I feel sick. Sick to my core. My stomach is so hollow, yet a large rock resides within it echoing around within so that when I feel the need to wretch it just aches like when you have twisted and squeezed to the point where there is nothing left and still the feeling, the needing, the aching to drain it all out doesn't stop.
I can feel my heart pounding so loudly against my chest it reverberates in every part of my body especially my head which is flooded like it has to swim through goo in order to process information.
My breathing feels laborious like at any moment I might take my last breath.
As I look around people are laughing and carrying on as if all is right in the world.
Here I stand, carrying on as well.
My strength astounds me. That I am able to put all of this aside and act normal. To portray the person I don't feel inside. Whether that is because of the numbness or the agony, so great that surviving is the only way to go, I wish I knew.
But I won't let them see me give in. I won't allow that to happen. I am stronger than even I give myself credit for.
Instead I hold my head high and act the performance of a lifetime because in my perfect world people that respect me as I respect them would not betray me like this.
I can feel my heart pounding so loudly against my chest it reverberates in every part of my body especially my head which is flooded like it has to swim through goo in order to process information.
My breathing feels laborious like at any moment I might take my last breath.
As I look around people are laughing and carrying on as if all is right in the world.
Here I stand, carrying on as well.
My strength astounds me. That I am able to put all of this aside and act normal. To portray the person I don't feel inside. Whether that is because of the numbness or the agony, so great that surviving is the only way to go, I wish I knew.
But I won't let them see me give in. I won't allow that to happen. I am stronger than even I give myself credit for.
Instead I hold my head high and act the performance of a lifetime because in my perfect world people that respect me as I respect them would not betray me like this.
the morning argument
Saint and I have been having this little thing about his alarms. Yes, that is plural - alarms.
He goes to work every morning around 330am. Sometimes earlier and sometimes later.
When we sleep at my place, I don't know that I even wake up when he leaves. Though he is so sweet to wake me up to say goodbye. Really, this is the most romantic thing. Sadly, I do this weird air kisses because my brain won't quite wake up. But I know when I wake up later that he said bye. Love it.
When we sleep at his place, I am awake before his alarm goes off. If not, I wake up after the first - slightly. Probably just enough to really wake up after the second. By the fourth, I am full blown awake and really want to just kick his ass out of bed so he falls on the floor. And then I imagine I would beat him with his two phones which contain the hateful alarms. I hate it!!
His alarms go off for a half hour. So starting around 230am, his alarms go off til after 3am. Then I am awake while he gets ready. Then I get up and get dressed so I can drive home and fall back asleep. I am way too awake to go back to sleep after all this. I lose about two hours when I sleep at his place.
I was telling him last night how funny love is. In the beginning, I would/could sleep anywhere, in any position with him. Now, over a year later, I can't even sleep in his bed well. There are many reasons for this -
To be completely honest, this really doesn't bother me. The whole alarm thing.
I am not a morning person and when I wake up - scratch that - when I get woken up and I don't feel like I slept well I AM CRANKY. I wake up and lay there waiting for him to get up and get ready so I can get up and go home to resume my sleep. It sucks. It is a long time to lay there wishing I was sleeping. It kinda pisses me off. I don't know why. Could it be, the man hits those damn alarms for over 30 minutes without caring that I am WIDE AWAKE? Maybe it's the fact that he can hit the alarm and fall instantly back to sleep whereas I take time to fall asleep.
One morning, I texted him after I woke up (officially) while he was at work and asked him if he still loved me after I argued with him til he was blue in the face. I feel bad that I provoke him and bicker with him, but I swear I am on autopilot. At three am, I pretty much do not have any control over my emotions.
His response, "It's okay. I am used to you in the morning."
Crap, HE HAS TO GET USED TO ME? Ugh, that isn't good. Definitely not a compliment.
Yet, I still don't seem to be able to let it go. This morning I literally woke up and laid there waiting to execute my line of "six alarms." Like a murderer plotting.
I am hateful in the morning. And apparently have no remorse until after 8am.
He goes to work every morning around 330am. Sometimes earlier and sometimes later.
When we sleep at my place, I don't know that I even wake up when he leaves. Though he is so sweet to wake me up to say goodbye. Really, this is the most romantic thing. Sadly, I do this weird air kisses because my brain won't quite wake up. But I know when I wake up later that he said bye. Love it.
When we sleep at his place, I am awake before his alarm goes off. If not, I wake up after the first - slightly. Probably just enough to really wake up after the second. By the fourth, I am full blown awake and really want to just kick his ass out of bed so he falls on the floor. And then I imagine I would beat him with his two phones which contain the hateful alarms. I hate it!!
His alarms go off for a half hour. So starting around 230am, his alarms go off til after 3am. Then I am awake while he gets ready. Then I get up and get dressed so I can drive home and fall back asleep. I am way too awake to go back to sleep after all this. I lose about two hours when I sleep at his place.
I was telling him last night how funny love is. In the beginning, I would/could sleep anywhere, in any position with him. Now, over a year later, I can't even sleep in his bed well. There are many reasons for this -
- he keeps his room door closed and the air is stagnant; it reeks of stale air
- the temperature in his place is warmer than mine, considerably (I am guessing they do this so girls will take off their clothes when they come over - lol)
- I don't have my body pillow at his place (a serious comfort thing for me)
- mentally I know that it is not my place and therefore I don't know that I completely ever fall into a fitful sleep
- I do not like sleeping at his place when I am alone; I sleep a bit better (or maybe have a better chance of sleeping) when his roommate is home because I feel more protected (not that anything will happen) once he leaves for work
- Six alarms went off this morning.
- No, I only have four alarms.
- I am telling you, I was awake for all six. I counted. I think you are hitting snooze.
- I don't hit snooze.
- Well then somehow you have more than four alarms.
- No, I really don't. I have four alarms set. Do you want me to show you?
To be completely honest, this really doesn't bother me. The whole alarm thing.
I am not a morning person and when I wake up - scratch that - when I get woken up and I don't feel like I slept well I AM CRANKY. I wake up and lay there waiting for him to get up and get ready so I can get up and go home to resume my sleep. It sucks. It is a long time to lay there wishing I was sleeping. It kinda pisses me off. I don't know why. Could it be, the man hits those damn alarms for over 30 minutes without caring that I am WIDE AWAKE? Maybe it's the fact that he can hit the alarm and fall instantly back to sleep whereas I take time to fall asleep.
One morning, I texted him after I woke up (officially) while he was at work and asked him if he still loved me after I argued with him til he was blue in the face. I feel bad that I provoke him and bicker with him, but I swear I am on autopilot. At three am, I pretty much do not have any control over my emotions.
His response, "It's okay. I am used to you in the morning."
Crap, HE HAS TO GET USED TO ME? Ugh, that isn't good. Definitely not a compliment.
Yet, I still don't seem to be able to let it go. This morning I literally woke up and laid there waiting to execute my line of "six alarms." Like a murderer plotting.
I am hateful in the morning. And apparently have no remorse until after 8am.
sigh, love rocks
Seriously, people, can this get any better?
Here I am sitting on the couch while the coffee is brewing, typing away on my computer while Saint sits on the couch next to me reading his book (one of my favs too - Nelson DeMille Charm School) while Tuesday is crashed out next to him. Izabel, if you must know (snicker), is lounging in front of the coffee table and keeping watch over the house because heaven forbid something happen while someone is not watching. (she is very suspicious of everything)
This is THE BEST Sunday morning.
I woke up and Saint was gone. I got up, fed the kitties and then crawled back into bed. Later, while dozing in and out, Saint snuck back in with groceries. He crawled back in to bed and we had some cuddle time. I showered (because sadly I have to work today) and then threw coffee in the pot.
Now, here I am.
It is so quiet. I can hear myself typing and the coffee percolating. Occasionally, I can hear the soft, but low "brrrrrr" from Izabel tooting that "all is well." But mostly, it is just quiet and ever so peaceful.
Is this how marriage is supposed to be? (without getting too far ahead of myself, given that Saint and I are not married, nor even living together) (another snicker)
Is this what a real, relationship is like?
Because man have I been missing out.
Once again - sigh, love rocks!
Here I am sitting on the couch while the coffee is brewing, typing away on my computer while Saint sits on the couch next to me reading his book (one of my favs too - Nelson DeMille Charm School) while Tuesday is crashed out next to him. Izabel, if you must know (snicker), is lounging in front of the coffee table and keeping watch over the house because heaven forbid something happen while someone is not watching. (she is very suspicious of everything)
This is THE BEST Sunday morning.
I woke up and Saint was gone. I got up, fed the kitties and then crawled back into bed. Later, while dozing in and out, Saint snuck back in with groceries. He crawled back in to bed and we had some cuddle time. I showered (because sadly I have to work today) and then threw coffee in the pot.
Now, here I am.
It is so quiet. I can hear myself typing and the coffee percolating. Occasionally, I can hear the soft, but low "brrrrrr" from Izabel tooting that "all is well." But mostly, it is just quiet and ever so peaceful.
Is this how marriage is supposed to be? (without getting too far ahead of myself, given that Saint and I are not married, nor even living together) (another snicker)
Is this what a real, relationship is like?
Because man have I been missing out.
Once again - sigh, love rocks!
(Single) guy mentality
After work one night I venture over to Saint's place to pick him and his roomie, Montana, up to designated-drive them to a bar. As I am walking in, Saint texts me that he is in the pool. Being that the music was reverberating throughout the complex, I figured it was a small get together.
I saunter up, but the pool gate was locked. (really? locked for a freakin' apartment function?)
"Oh, hey. I won't leave you hanging out there," some random guy runs up to let me in.
"Thanks," I say, searching the faces.
I walk in. It is dark and the lights from the pool actually make it harder to see who is whom. There are people in the pool tossing balls and screaming. A few couples sit beside the pool drinking and talking. There is a guy at the grill and a pool table to my right as I walk in the gate. A DJ is playing crappy, loud music by the doors of the great room. Basically, a chaotic apartment function as usual. No organization. Just random people doing random things.
After about five minutes I realize that I don't see Saint or Montana. I sit on the nearest sofa and text him.
"Where are you?"
"At the pool."
"Duh. Where in the pool?"
pause
pause
"Hello????? Saint, where in the pool are you?"
no response
Now, I gotta admit I am getting a bit peeved at this point. I came here to see my man and have a beer. Not sit at a pool waiting for the nearest creep to hit on me. (oh did I mention there is some insanely drunk guy oogling me? ew, gross.)
After about sixteen uninformative texts, I gather that he is at the poker table. The one that I walked right by twenty freaking minutes ago. I walk up and there are six people sitting at the table. All have cards, but only a few are sober.
I walk right up to Saint and say, "Hey stranger, how did you not see me walk in?"
He looks up, fuzzily and says, "Huh?"
Oh right, he's a little toasted. Hmmm, should be interesting.
But what's really interesting to me is that some girl is totally hitting on Montana, my boy's roommate. I am immediately protective because not just any girl can have him. He deserves to be happy. Y'know? He just got his heart broken and I won't let some other skuzzie girl do that.
Side note: Being drunk, Montana has NO GAME. Seriously. None. But obviously this girl has no idea because she is totally in to him.
They flirt back and forth. He calls her "Spiky hair" because she has short hair and it sticks out a bit. She is cute, but when I walked up she gave me the once over as if to wonder who am I, but what she didn't realize was I have been in for awhile now. It is she who must get approved.
Later, much later, I walk by the pool area to get to Saint's place and Montana and Spikey hair are the only ones sitting there. Instantly I think, "could it be?" But because of the alcohol they have consumed, I brush it aside.
Next day, I stop by. Saint informs me that Montana got mad because he was locked out. All night. I ask where he slept and am told on a box in the laundry room. Well, well I would have thought he would have "got some" last night.
"Oh he did," replies Saint.
"WHAT?!?! He got laid and he still slept in the laundry room? Why didn't he just stay at her house?"
Now here is the conundrum, peeps. Why is it that guys leave? He could have stayed, slept on a bed and probably got laid a few more times.
Here is the conundrum for men - Saint and Montana want to know if I got Spikey hair's real name.
"Me? Nope. I didn't catch it."
Dead silence between the two of them.
Immediately I am suspicious.
"Why?"
pause
very, long pause
"I can't remember her name."
I saunter up, but the pool gate was locked. (really? locked for a freakin' apartment function?)
"Oh, hey. I won't leave you hanging out there," some random guy runs up to let me in.
"Thanks," I say, searching the faces.
I walk in. It is dark and the lights from the pool actually make it harder to see who is whom. There are people in the pool tossing balls and screaming. A few couples sit beside the pool drinking and talking. There is a guy at the grill and a pool table to my right as I walk in the gate. A DJ is playing crappy, loud music by the doors of the great room. Basically, a chaotic apartment function as usual. No organization. Just random people doing random things.
After about five minutes I realize that I don't see Saint or Montana. I sit on the nearest sofa and text him.
"Where are you?"
"At the pool."
"Duh. Where in the pool?"
pause
pause
"Hello????? Saint, where in the pool are you?"
no response
Now, I gotta admit I am getting a bit peeved at this point. I came here to see my man and have a beer. Not sit at a pool waiting for the nearest creep to hit on me. (oh did I mention there is some insanely drunk guy oogling me? ew, gross.)
After about sixteen uninformative texts, I gather that he is at the poker table. The one that I walked right by twenty freaking minutes ago. I walk up and there are six people sitting at the table. All have cards, but only a few are sober.
I walk right up to Saint and say, "Hey stranger, how did you not see me walk in?"
He looks up, fuzzily and says, "Huh?"
Oh right, he's a little toasted. Hmmm, should be interesting.
But what's really interesting to me is that some girl is totally hitting on Montana, my boy's roommate. I am immediately protective because not just any girl can have him. He deserves to be happy. Y'know? He just got his heart broken and I won't let some other skuzzie girl do that.
Side note: Being drunk, Montana has NO GAME. Seriously. None. But obviously this girl has no idea because she is totally in to him.
They flirt back and forth. He calls her "Spiky hair" because she has short hair and it sticks out a bit. She is cute, but when I walked up she gave me the once over as if to wonder who am I, but what she didn't realize was I have been in for awhile now. It is she who must get approved.
Later, much later, I walk by the pool area to get to Saint's place and Montana and Spikey hair are the only ones sitting there. Instantly I think, "could it be?" But because of the alcohol they have consumed, I brush it aside.
Next day, I stop by. Saint informs me that Montana got mad because he was locked out. All night. I ask where he slept and am told on a box in the laundry room. Well, well I would have thought he would have "got some" last night.
"Oh he did," replies Saint.
"WHAT?!?! He got laid and he still slept in the laundry room? Why didn't he just stay at her house?"
Now here is the conundrum, peeps. Why is it that guys leave? He could have stayed, slept on a bed and probably got laid a few more times.
Here is the conundrum for men - Saint and Montana want to know if I got Spikey hair's real name.
"Me? Nope. I didn't catch it."
Dead silence between the two of them.
Immediately I am suspicious.
"Why?"
pause
very, long pause
"I can't remember her name."
feeling like a real life
I'm sitting here on my new couch. Brand new. Delivered today. The matching piece to the love seat I've had for a couple of years. The sofa replaces the tattered lazy boy a friend offered me when I moved out of my ex-husband's house (our house, whatever).
It feels good. Like a new life.
The continuation of a new life.
It saddens me a bit to realize that getting this couch makes me feel like my life is continuing on in a good direction. But being that it was so hard with my ex, it's also so incredibly understandable.
Evidence.
It's a new start. A fresh beginning.
It's why I needed to delete my old blog.
It's why I needed to upgrade to an apartment I felt worth of.
It's why I decided to accept the full time position at my second job that exemplifies what I want in life - living in the moment.
It's why I decided a half a year ago to love unconditionally, no matter if he chose not to return the love.
Moments are so precious and so few and far between that if I don't stop and enjoy each and every one as if it were my last, I'm missing the point of living.
So here I am. Sitting on my sofa that is so big if I stretch out I won't reach both sides.
:)
Reflecting.
Pondering my past. My here and now. My future.
I'm happy things worked out the way they did. It's sad that it's reality, but I am old enough to know that I am such a better person for it all. I'm not sure I would be so full of life had it not all happened.
I wouldn't know that the best way I can treat myself is to breath; to stop looking at the clock and breath. Love exactly who I am. Laugh at myself.
I wouldn't know that the best way I can love Saint is to remember he is his own person. Allow him his space and allow him to choose. And to not rely on him to comfort me. I feel the way I do because of my choices and how I choose to react. I can comfort myself because I am know how to make myself happy and what to do when I'm not. Not to be afraid to tell him how I feel and what I need.
I wouldn't know the best way to communicate with my parent's is to realize their love language. And to remind myself I don't need their approval because I already have it.
I am so lucky.
I am surrounded by loving people. It is evident in our family dinner this evening. We ate. We laughed. We discussed. We just lived. With each other. We loved.
If only the rest of the world were so lucky.
It feels good. Like a new life.
The continuation of a new life.
It saddens me a bit to realize that getting this couch makes me feel like my life is continuing on in a good direction. But being that it was so hard with my ex, it's also so incredibly understandable.
Evidence.
It's a new start. A fresh beginning.
It's why I needed to delete my old blog.
It's why I needed to upgrade to an apartment I felt worth of.
It's why I decided to accept the full time position at my second job that exemplifies what I want in life - living in the moment.
It's why I decided a half a year ago to love unconditionally, no matter if he chose not to return the love.
Moments are so precious and so few and far between that if I don't stop and enjoy each and every one as if it were my last, I'm missing the point of living.
So here I am. Sitting on my sofa that is so big if I stretch out I won't reach both sides.
:)
Reflecting.
Pondering my past. My here and now. My future.
I'm happy things worked out the way they did. It's sad that it's reality, but I am old enough to know that I am such a better person for it all. I'm not sure I would be so full of life had it not all happened.
I wouldn't know that the best way I can treat myself is to breath; to stop looking at the clock and breath. Love exactly who I am. Laugh at myself.
I wouldn't know that the best way I can love Saint is to remember he is his own person. Allow him his space and allow him to choose. And to not rely on him to comfort me. I feel the way I do because of my choices and how I choose to react. I can comfort myself because I am know how to make myself happy and what to do when I'm not. Not to be afraid to tell him how I feel and what I need.
I wouldn't know the best way to communicate with my parent's is to realize their love language. And to remind myself I don't need their approval because I already have it.
I am so lucky.
I am surrounded by loving people. It is evident in our family dinner this evening. We ate. We laughed. We discussed. We just lived. With each other. We loved.
If only the rest of the world were so lucky.
Valet with a foot up his arse
I work in retail. Anyone who's worked at a retail store knows we have special parking. And by special I mean way out in bfe because the customers have to be able to park right up front. (and then complain because they're still too far and. They're sure that one car next to them is an employee bc it's closer)
I have parked in the same parking spot since I started my job, but the people at work are divided. Some park in one spot to the left of the store, which is where I've been parking because its more lite up and more people walk by - I feel safer there. The others park to the right behind a restaurant. I figured out that the people who park by the restaurant do it because they feel they have easier exiting capabilities. They're right, they do and since I drive home that way I started parking there.
Last night I got in my car and there was a parking ticket on my windshield. Wth?
When I parked there before work it was public parking, but when I came out it was valet. They ticketed me because I parked in they're valet spot BUT IT WASN'T VALET WHEN I PARKED THERE.
Being the nice person I am, I thought I'd pull up n explain that to the valet attendant.
He told me it is always valet and that it was just a warning so I'd know not to park there anymore.
Actually it wasn't valet when I parked, I explained.
And there is where we hit a brick wall.
Just because a restaurant has valet after seven pm DOES NOT MEAN that after seven all cars still parked there are in violation. Bastards! He even had the gall to tell me, my supervisors should tell me where to park. I'm not stupid. And who even gave valet powers to ticket anyway?
Well now I'm going to have to call the damn mall security and managers because that just isn't correct.
I have parked in the same parking spot since I started my job, but the people at work are divided. Some park in one spot to the left of the store, which is where I've been parking because its more lite up and more people walk by - I feel safer there. The others park to the right behind a restaurant. I figured out that the people who park by the restaurant do it because they feel they have easier exiting capabilities. They're right, they do and since I drive home that way I started parking there.
Last night I got in my car and there was a parking ticket on my windshield. Wth?
When I parked there before work it was public parking, but when I came out it was valet. They ticketed me because I parked in they're valet spot BUT IT WASN'T VALET WHEN I PARKED THERE.
Being the nice person I am, I thought I'd pull up n explain that to the valet attendant.
He told me it is always valet and that it was just a warning so I'd know not to park there anymore.
Actually it wasn't valet when I parked, I explained.
And there is where we hit a brick wall.
Just because a restaurant has valet after seven pm DOES NOT MEAN that after seven all cars still parked there are in violation. Bastards! He even had the gall to tell me, my supervisors should tell me where to park. I'm not stupid. And who even gave valet powers to ticket anyway?
Well now I'm going to have to call the damn mall security and managers because that just isn't correct.
three little words with so much meaning
If you had told me a year ago that I would be where I am right now, I would have thought it not possible.
Last night I was stunned
by three little words
uttered to me
by my boyfriend
of a little less than a year.
He told me he loves me.
I was pleased when I heard him, but when I woke up this morning I didn't know how to feel. I was confused. I should be ecstatic, right? But I had this eeriness. Like I was waiting for something bad to happen. Like I dreamed it. Like maybe I pushed him into saying it because I can be an ass sometimes (i know you're shocked).
After all this time, one year since my divorce and over two years since I left my ex-husband I still am not sure I believe that I am allowed to be happy.
Not this happy anyway.
I never, ever thought it could be this way. I never knew a relationship could be this easy and this carefree. I mean when I am with him it is just so simple.
No confusion. No second guessing. No frustration. No arguing. No chaos.
It just feels effortless.
After five years of arguing, trying to one up me, fighting, telling me I was doing everything wrong and fighting for this life I thought I wanted, it is shocking to see such a complete reverse life.
The thought that this could be my life every day for the rest of my life is, well, it kind of leaves me speechless.
I mean, I want to marry this man. I do. I know that.
I see a future with him that if nothing ever changed from here on out - moving in together, marriage, kids, etc - I know I would be content. But the thought that I could settle down with this man and actually create a real life together is beyond anything I thought possible.
And for a complete hopeless romantic like me, that is amazing.
I feel almost like I don't deserve it. And I know that is the wrong kind of thinking.
I woke up this morning and asked him, "Did you really mean what you said last night?"
And without the slightest waver in his voice, "Yes I did."
There is no doubt in my mind that he does, in fact, feel this way.
Holy crap!
This is the first man in my life that I ever said the words I love you to knowing I would not hear those words back. I mean, I wanted to hear them back, but for once I am trying in my life to not expect things; to not presuppose life. I just want it to happen the way it will happen. I will always think of the future and remember my past - I feel this is the only way to really know who you are and where you are going. But I am also trying to LIVE in the here and now. Enjoying each and every moment as if they were my last. And I have realized that this is a truly wonderful way to see the world.
So about a month ago, though honestly I knew months ago, I told him I loved him. Without any qualms if he never said them back to me. I said it because I felt it. I had been feeling it. And I simply wanted him to know how I felt.
No conditions. No strings.
Because I know that even if he up and decided he didn't want to be with me someday, I KNOW that I am so lucky to have had this time with this man who has shown me what a life of love can be like.
I love this man. This man who is so incredibly wonderful to me. He treats me so well. He takes care of me. He considers how I feel. He wants to be with me. His actions speak so much louder than his words, but dear god his words are heard.
And holy shit, he told me he loves me back.
What can I possibly say that might ever top this feeling I have? I am numb and covered in shivers all at the same time.
(oh and I mentioned that his nickname was Raindrop and he expressed how girly that sounded so my mom and I came up with Saint because he is such a Saints fan and he is kind of a saint to me, not to be corny)
Last night I was stunned
by three little words
uttered to me
by my boyfriend
of a little less than a year.
He told me he loves me.
I was pleased when I heard him, but when I woke up this morning I didn't know how to feel. I was confused. I should be ecstatic, right? But I had this eeriness. Like I was waiting for something bad to happen. Like I dreamed it. Like maybe I pushed him into saying it because I can be an ass sometimes (i know you're shocked).
After all this time, one year since my divorce and over two years since I left my ex-husband I still am not sure I believe that I am allowed to be happy.
Not this happy anyway.
I never, ever thought it could be this way. I never knew a relationship could be this easy and this carefree. I mean when I am with him it is just so simple.
No confusion. No second guessing. No frustration. No arguing. No chaos.
It just feels effortless.
After five years of arguing, trying to one up me, fighting, telling me I was doing everything wrong and fighting for this life I thought I wanted, it is shocking to see such a complete reverse life.
The thought that this could be my life every day for the rest of my life is, well, it kind of leaves me speechless.
I mean, I want to marry this man. I do. I know that.
I see a future with him that if nothing ever changed from here on out - moving in together, marriage, kids, etc - I know I would be content. But the thought that I could settle down with this man and actually create a real life together is beyond anything I thought possible.
And for a complete hopeless romantic like me, that is amazing.
I feel almost like I don't deserve it. And I know that is the wrong kind of thinking.
I woke up this morning and asked him, "Did you really mean what you said last night?"
And without the slightest waver in his voice, "Yes I did."
There is no doubt in my mind that he does, in fact, feel this way.
Holy crap!
This is the first man in my life that I ever said the words I love you to knowing I would not hear those words back. I mean, I wanted to hear them back, but for once I am trying in my life to not expect things; to not presuppose life. I just want it to happen the way it will happen. I will always think of the future and remember my past - I feel this is the only way to really know who you are and where you are going. But I am also trying to LIVE in the here and now. Enjoying each and every moment as if they were my last. And I have realized that this is a truly wonderful way to see the world.
So about a month ago, though honestly I knew months ago, I told him I loved him. Without any qualms if he never said them back to me. I said it because I felt it. I had been feeling it. And I simply wanted him to know how I felt.
No conditions. No strings.
Because I know that even if he up and decided he didn't want to be with me someday, I KNOW that I am so lucky to have had this time with this man who has shown me what a life of love can be like.
I love this man. This man who is so incredibly wonderful to me. He treats me so well. He takes care of me. He considers how I feel. He wants to be with me. His actions speak so much louder than his words, but dear god his words are heard.
And holy shit, he told me he loves me back.
What can I possibly say that might ever top this feeling I have? I am numb and covered in shivers all at the same time.
(oh and I mentioned that his nickname was Raindrop and he expressed how girly that sounded so my mom and I came up with Saint because he is such a Saints fan and he is kind of a saint to me, not to be corny)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)