2/20/2010 - Progress

I guess my need to for this release hasn't completely abated because I'm drawn to this like a moth to a flame. Not that this will harm me but you get the comparison.

Hung out again last night with Friend after not having really seen or heard much from him this week. By Friday, I was feeling a little uncertain and to be frank, pissed off about that. After speaking with my colleague about these feelings, I had a realization that I probably should have had months ago. Whenever I have these feelings of anxiety and fretting about whether a guy is into me, or losing interest, or whatever, I'm also simultaneously, not surprisingly, suffering from acute symptoms of PMS. Now, I see how stereotypical it is to blame these feelings on this female malady but it's sooooo true. I hate that it's so true, but there the fact is. Sitting right in front of me like a little evil gnome that invades my brain, via my uterus and makes me think all of these totally irrational and ridiculous thoughts.

Now that I have realized this correlation once and for all, I can recognize it, medicate it with chocolate and salt, and move on. Not let it effect my behavior. I was all set yesterday (pre-realization) to give him a good talking to about communication, and planning and how I wasn't going to let his random, spontaneous schedule dictate our plans and where did I fit in his super busy, double booked life, I wasn't willing for very much longer to take a backseat to friends, colleagues, random others blah, blah, blah. But, with some concentrated mental talking down, I got off of that ledge and was able to enjoy a really nice, easy evening with him. We had drink and food and movie and sleepover and it was great. We had a fantastic conversation about choice and faith and free will and religion which started with him saying that he thought of me during Ash Wednesday Mass this week. I don't know really what that means but anytime he says, "Hey, I was thinking of you ..." I feel like that's great and it makes me smile.

Woke up this morning from a wonderfully restful and deep sleep to the image of his face, looking directly at mine, with warm brown eyes lazily working me over, and an outstretched hand holding one of my earrings that had somehow freed itself from my earlobe during the night. How did he find this tiny, little stud? Dunno. But he did. As he pressed it into my hand, I smiled, said thank you and he kissed me his you're welcome.

Man, I don't know how he does it, but this guy never has funky morning breath. I think he sneaks out before I wake up and swishes mouthwash or something. Or maybe he's just magic. I choose to believe he's magic.

And today, after listening to 'Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me', I will walk around my city, buy some oranges, and smile when I stomp a clump of snow, because maybe somewhere he's doing the same thing and smiling and thinking of me. Because last night we decided amongst other things, that we're a great snow stomping team.