Parachuting, I hear, is worth the scare
There are just those arguments that you face sometimes that shake you into balance, in an odd way. I had one of such last night with my beloved girlfriend, the uglier kind. The j-word, b-word and f-word got their fair share of exposure during the something-3 hours we spent on these inverted festivities. Hurtful, indeed, for both of us I should imagine. But most of the times when you have these kinds of fights with a loved one, especially if it's with a significant other, it's a mixed spectrum of emotions. I'm sure most people in this situation can agree that besides the hurt, the anger and the eventual tears there's also a small cathartic feeling about it. Like a cleansing, like violently erasing a white board and leaving a blank slate. When an argument does not tear two people apart it helps them grow closer together, which might be a cliche, but it's cliche because it's true. At least that's what my personal experience has taught me.
Fight ensues all night, until the sleep gets the best of us and we leave each other be over the night. Now, this naturally has been on my mind this entire friday. First shaped as anger, then despair, then a will to reconsile quickly, then that odd unrational "no, don't reconsile yet" - whatever the fuck that's supposed to do any good. Finally there's just the time when we both meet, tired and worn-out in the middle and what ensues are sorries. Cue love, again. Enter clean white board. New start.
Erica has told me she's afraid that I'm suffering a lack of enthusiasm over the coming month's adventure. For those of you not familiar; me moving to Leeds with her. And I know I've been to focused on the work, the sacrifices and the stress of it all, and so I've decided to talk a little bit about it from a brighter, more excited viewpoint.
Whenever I think about it, it still seems like it's unreal. It seems just as farfetched as it did almost three years ago when I let feeling get the upper hand on rationality and fell in love with a girl on the other side of an ocean. I think about waking up every morning and feel her skin rubbing against my palms, hearing a tired sigh slip out of her nostrils and see her eyes slowly opening, carefully to have the days first look at the one she, for some reason, has decided to share her life with. I think about going for walks with her around the city, getting familiar with my new surroundings, getting overwhelmed. Maybe finding a nice record store and go absolutely nuts, maybe do a silly dance to a song that's playing, maybe that song will be The Hardest Button To Button by The White Stripes. Maybe she'll blush, say "Stop iiit" and lovingly shove me, and I go "Whaaat?" and smile in a silly way that I know she's loves and hates at the same time.
I can't wait to get everything started up, finding new friends, getting into the studying properly and settle in the new enviroment. Then, at some time, when she least expects it Ill sneak up on her from behind, put my arms around her waist, and rub my fac against the back of her neck, kissing her as I go. Then I'll spin her around and ask her The Question. "Do you want to get a dog with me?"
In short, I can't wait for my life to begin. And I can't wait to get out of this clouded patch of stress, fright and shit. I can't wait to finally sit on that plane, luggage in hand, listening to my airplane-playlist, and know - KNOW - that it's beginning. Second chapter, beginning now. I just can't wait.
Fight ensues all night, until the sleep gets the best of us and we leave each other be over the night. Now, this naturally has been on my mind this entire friday. First shaped as anger, then despair, then a will to reconsile quickly, then that odd unrational "no, don't reconsile yet" - whatever the fuck that's supposed to do any good. Finally there's just the time when we both meet, tired and worn-out in the middle and what ensues are sorries. Cue love, again. Enter clean white board. New start.
Erica has told me she's afraid that I'm suffering a lack of enthusiasm over the coming month's adventure. For those of you not familiar; me moving to Leeds with her. And I know I've been to focused on the work, the sacrifices and the stress of it all, and so I've decided to talk a little bit about it from a brighter, more excited viewpoint.
Whenever I think about it, it still seems like it's unreal. It seems just as farfetched as it did almost three years ago when I let feeling get the upper hand on rationality and fell in love with a girl on the other side of an ocean. I think about waking up every morning and feel her skin rubbing against my palms, hearing a tired sigh slip out of her nostrils and see her eyes slowly opening, carefully to have the days first look at the one she, for some reason, has decided to share her life with. I think about going for walks with her around the city, getting familiar with my new surroundings, getting overwhelmed. Maybe finding a nice record store and go absolutely nuts, maybe do a silly dance to a song that's playing, maybe that song will be The Hardest Button To Button by The White Stripes. Maybe she'll blush, say "Stop iiit" and lovingly shove me, and I go "Whaaat?" and smile in a silly way that I know she's loves and hates at the same time.
I can't wait to get everything started up, finding new friends, getting into the studying properly and settle in the new enviroment. Then, at some time, when she least expects it Ill sneak up on her from behind, put my arms around her waist, and rub my fac against the back of her neck, kissing her as I go. Then I'll spin her around and ask her The Question. "Do you want to get a dog with me?"
In short, I can't wait for my life to begin. And I can't wait to get out of this clouded patch of stress, fright and shit. I can't wait to finally sit on that plane, luggage in hand, listening to my airplane-playlist, and know - KNOW - that it's beginning. Second chapter, beginning now. I just can't wait.