I've been so mopey lately.
I really have.
I am supposed to be this fireball of hyperactive adventure and mischief and instead I'm just sort of sucking at life. I know we all have times of glum and blah, but I think I'm doing it just to get attention.
So very, very sorry.
I will remedy that.
I had an incredibly insane girl moment last night, and I'd like to apologize to my subconcious for fucking with it so. But it's not answering my texts. On the other hand, I'd like to congratulate myself for havin the decency to quarantine it to myself. Whew.
But while we're on the subject of girly angst, I sometimes wonder if Charlie is getting a) bored of me and my mopey-ness and/or b)fed up with the little things that derail me from behaving like a sensible human being.
Then I recall how he insisted I tell him why I was so upset last night and then proceeded to hold me and rub my back until the tears 'n mucus stopped flowing. And didn't seem to mind in the least. Regardless, I love him. I now whisper this information to him while he sleeps, perhaps in hope of subliminally swaying him to tell me the same. Preferably while awake.
Why haven't this exchange of words occured? I dunno. Maybe he doesn't feel it, maybe he's not aware of how I much I need to hear it, I'm too traditional (i.e.: wussy) to say it first, I WANT to say it but am afraid of a lack of reciprocation, I'm sort of waiting until we hit 4 months based on some random information he once told me before I throw something directly at his head yelling, "I love you! Go fuck yourself!" out of pure frustration.
But the fact remains: I love him.
I am supposed to be this fireball of hyperactive adventure and mischief and instead I'm just sort of sucking at life. I know we all have times of glum and blah, but I think I'm doing it just to get attention.
So very, very sorry.
I will remedy that.
I had an incredibly insane girl moment last night, and I'd like to apologize to my subconcious for fucking with it so. But it's not answering my texts. On the other hand, I'd like to congratulate myself for havin the decency to quarantine it to myself. Whew.
But while we're on the subject of girly angst, I sometimes wonder if Charlie is getting a) bored of me and my mopey-ness and/or b)fed up with the little things that derail me from behaving like a sensible human being.
Then I recall how he insisted I tell him why I was so upset last night and then proceeded to hold me and rub my back until the tears 'n mucus stopped flowing. And didn't seem to mind in the least. Regardless, I love him. I now whisper this information to him while he sleeps, perhaps in hope of subliminally swaying him to tell me the same. Preferably while awake.
Why haven't this exchange of words occured? I dunno. Maybe he doesn't feel it, maybe he's not aware of how I much I need to hear it, I'm too traditional (i.e.: wussy) to say it first, I WANT to say it but am afraid of a lack of reciprocation, I'm sort of waiting until we hit 4 months based on some random information he once told me before I throw something directly at his head yelling, "I love you! Go fuck yourself!" out of pure frustration.
But the fact remains: I love him.