(no subject)
I've been thinking about writing in this for a while, just something to focus emotions that I cannot verbalize and get them out of my system. Too many nights of lying awake into the early hours of the morning trying to will myself to sleep. So many things going on. So many things I don't want to have to deal with. So many things I cannot control.
And yet even when I am having a low moment he always seems to know and say something to cheer me up. Like just a few minutes ago I got a text saying that he shall be honking the horn in a few minutes signaling that he's coming through town. I know that the engineer does that, but sometimes when he knows I'm awake he will do it. It's nice to know that he thinks about me while at work. Even though I know he does as he still sends me texts from the train when he has cell service. Sometimes I wonder what I've done in life to deserve him. And then I stop to think that I really just don't care. He's in my life, he's in Rowan's life. And I cannot picture him out of it.
It's been just over a year now. A year. And every time he comes over I still get excited knowing that he's on his way. These last 7 or 8 weeks have been a little harder on the both of us as I haven't been home much as I've spent a good chunk of those days up at the farm getting everything sorted out for mum.
A year and we still haven't had a fight. We haven't annoyed each other. We haven't even had a disagreement. He became my best friend in such a short time, I can't even think of a time when I have been this happy and content with the emotional aspects of my life. A year.
Sometimes I find myself comparing him to Adam and seeing just how different they really are. And that leads to me wondering if I really loved Adam at all, or if it was all just the high school fantasy coming to life when he was a part of it. I know that what I felt for Adam was an instant burning fire. Bright. Hot. Brilliant. It seemed to consume me.
But with him? It's more like a constant flame. Warm. Gentle. Comforting. Safe. Yet all it takes is just a few moments until the gentle flame spirals out of control and blazes brighter. Blazes hotter. Consuming the both of us with heat. And once it dwindles, it never goes out. Just happily stoked for next time.
He is everything that Adam isn't and there is no way I can even honestly compare the two of them together. Where Adam tried to change, where he tried to manipulate, where he tried to (and suceeded in) use and abuse.. He embraces. He encourages. He gives just as much as he takes. And it's not just the purely physical. It's the emotional. It's the everything I've been missing.
And yet I haven't met his parents. They know about me of course. But we haven't met. That was going to happen a few times now, but I've always had to change my plans because something more important came up. And I don't want to take Rowan with me as I won't be able to get to know them while I'm constantly on the look out for the kinds of trouble that child of mine will find. My crafty, clever, amazing little man.
I am, quite assuredly, in love. And it's not lust. It's never been lust. It took us almost a full month to even express physical touch. We took it slow. A casual caress here, a playful nudge there. The first hug. The first kiss. The first sex (eee!). There is lust. I don't think I've ever wanted a man the way I want him. Constantly. Like a deep-rooted need. He embraces my wild side. And he needs to touch just as much as I need to touch. We are constantly in contact with each other. Whether it's on a walk, eating, drinking tea on the couch...something is always touching the other person. And it's comforting to know that even after a year, he's not sick of it. I constantly joke with him, saying things like the only reason he comes around is because I'm a kick-ass cook, I make pretty decent pies, divine cakes...and of course the sex. And he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. It's always something more.
This is a man that I don't need to be around all the time. He has his own life as I have mine. He has his hobbies whereas I'm still trying to find mine. But everything I try he encourages. He wants me to get back into writing as he's managed to sneak a couple glimpses at some things I've written in years gone by, but every time I try to formulate a solid thought it drifts away and I cannot get it back. Like catching fog with my bare hands. But he pays attention. Like for my birthday he got me a sketch book and beautiful coloured pencils. Because I had previously mentioned that I wanted to get back into sketching and random art. And for Christmas he got me a rolling pin as he was sick of seeing me fight with my empty wine bottle. -- So he pays attention to my needs. And not just my wants.
And needless to say my parents just adore him. And Skip would like to see us get married. I haven't of course, told him this. I haven't even told him how exactly I feel for him. I keep worrying that I'm totally wrong about all of this and it's just something I will wake up from.
And then he does something that makes me shake my head and give myself a mental shake.
"I found a rock for you today."
"You did?"
"Mmhm."
"Why did you find me a rock?" (where I have a bunch of them in a glass jar. I can't resist them.)
"I saw it and it made me think of you."
Or visiting up at the farm and bringing me a gift of Chai tea. Or ordering me a book online that I had been searching for, and not telling me about it. But later showing up at my house, "I got you something." It's the little things that mean the most to me.
Like forgetting to pick up milk while he was at the store grabbing snacks for the evening and then running out first thing to get some so I had enough to last a few days (and of course make him pancakes and of course coffee). Texting me to let me know that he made it to work. And then texting me when he's on the train coming through town. Letting me know when he gets to his stop and the to his hotel.
Or waking up in the morning and him greeting me with a "Good morning Lady."
It is the little things that mean the most. Grand gestures lose meaning, while they are great fun, I prefer the smaller simple things.
I am in love.
And it is singularly the most exhilarating and terrifying thing.
And yet even when I am having a low moment he always seems to know and say something to cheer me up. Like just a few minutes ago I got a text saying that he shall be honking the horn in a few minutes signaling that he's coming through town. I know that the engineer does that, but sometimes when he knows I'm awake he will do it. It's nice to know that he thinks about me while at work. Even though I know he does as he still sends me texts from the train when he has cell service. Sometimes I wonder what I've done in life to deserve him. And then I stop to think that I really just don't care. He's in my life, he's in Rowan's life. And I cannot picture him out of it.
It's been just over a year now. A year. And every time he comes over I still get excited knowing that he's on his way. These last 7 or 8 weeks have been a little harder on the both of us as I haven't been home much as I've spent a good chunk of those days up at the farm getting everything sorted out for mum.
A year and we still haven't had a fight. We haven't annoyed each other. We haven't even had a disagreement. He became my best friend in such a short time, I can't even think of a time when I have been this happy and content with the emotional aspects of my life. A year.
Sometimes I find myself comparing him to Adam and seeing just how different they really are. And that leads to me wondering if I really loved Adam at all, or if it was all just the high school fantasy coming to life when he was a part of it. I know that what I felt for Adam was an instant burning fire. Bright. Hot. Brilliant. It seemed to consume me.
But with him? It's more like a constant flame. Warm. Gentle. Comforting. Safe. Yet all it takes is just a few moments until the gentle flame spirals out of control and blazes brighter. Blazes hotter. Consuming the both of us with heat. And once it dwindles, it never goes out. Just happily stoked for next time.
He is everything that Adam isn't and there is no way I can even honestly compare the two of them together. Where Adam tried to change, where he tried to manipulate, where he tried to (and suceeded in) use and abuse.. He embraces. He encourages. He gives just as much as he takes. And it's not just the purely physical. It's the emotional. It's the everything I've been missing.
And yet I haven't met his parents. They know about me of course. But we haven't met. That was going to happen a few times now, but I've always had to change my plans because something more important came up. And I don't want to take Rowan with me as I won't be able to get to know them while I'm constantly on the look out for the kinds of trouble that child of mine will find. My crafty, clever, amazing little man.
I am, quite assuredly, in love. And it's not lust. It's never been lust. It took us almost a full month to even express physical touch. We took it slow. A casual caress here, a playful nudge there. The first hug. The first kiss. The first sex (eee!). There is lust. I don't think I've ever wanted a man the way I want him. Constantly. Like a deep-rooted need. He embraces my wild side. And he needs to touch just as much as I need to touch. We are constantly in contact with each other. Whether it's on a walk, eating, drinking tea on the couch...something is always touching the other person. And it's comforting to know that even after a year, he's not sick of it. I constantly joke with him, saying things like the only reason he comes around is because I'm a kick-ass cook, I make pretty decent pies, divine cakes...and of course the sex. And he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. It's always something more.
This is a man that I don't need to be around all the time. He has his own life as I have mine. He has his hobbies whereas I'm still trying to find mine. But everything I try he encourages. He wants me to get back into writing as he's managed to sneak a couple glimpses at some things I've written in years gone by, but every time I try to formulate a solid thought it drifts away and I cannot get it back. Like catching fog with my bare hands. But he pays attention. Like for my birthday he got me a sketch book and beautiful coloured pencils. Because I had previously mentioned that I wanted to get back into sketching and random art. And for Christmas he got me a rolling pin as he was sick of seeing me fight with my empty wine bottle. -- So he pays attention to my needs. And not just my wants.
And needless to say my parents just adore him. And Skip would like to see us get married. I haven't of course, told him this. I haven't even told him how exactly I feel for him. I keep worrying that I'm totally wrong about all of this and it's just something I will wake up from.
And then he does something that makes me shake my head and give myself a mental shake.
"I found a rock for you today."
"You did?"
"Mmhm."
"Why did you find me a rock?" (where I have a bunch of them in a glass jar. I can't resist them.)
"I saw it and it made me think of you."
Or visiting up at the farm and bringing me a gift of Chai tea. Or ordering me a book online that I had been searching for, and not telling me about it. But later showing up at my house, "I got you something." It's the little things that mean the most to me.
Like forgetting to pick up milk while he was at the store grabbing snacks for the evening and then running out first thing to get some so I had enough to last a few days (and of course make him pancakes and of course coffee). Texting me to let me know that he made it to work. And then texting me when he's on the train coming through town. Letting me know when he gets to his stop and the to his hotel.
Or waking up in the morning and him greeting me with a "Good morning Lady."
It is the little things that mean the most. Grand gestures lose meaning, while they are great fun, I prefer the smaller simple things.
I am in love.
And it is singularly the most exhilarating and terrifying thing.