That’s me. Or at least that is what Jon calls me. It was weird to begin with but I really like it now. Puts a smile on my face. He is so good at making me smile. And laugh. We do laugh a lot. This week on the phone it had all been a little strained. Both tired I think and this whole sleeping dream thing is seriously still doing my head in. I know I am still dreaming but the annoying thing is that I can’t remember them in the morning anymore. That is bloody frustrating actually. Anyway last night before I called I told myself that we were going to have a good conversation. And we so did. It was a bit slow to start but we actually had stuff to tell each other and after 20 mins I was giggling so much that I had to hang up and go pee. It was really great. I love it when we are like that.
I have been such a nightmare recently, in a bad mood and snapping at him when I should pull myself together. We only see each other at weekends so I should be happy and have fun and save the teasiness for when he is not there. Sometimes he makes it worse. Asking me if I am ok. We are just spending a nice quiet evening in, chatting, watching TV and he asks me at least twice if I am ok. I hate that. Doesn’t he know me well enough to know that if I wasn’t okay I would bitch and moan or do something to make it ok. That is the way I work. I don’t suffer in silence.
Listen to me whinging on when I have the kindest, most generous, thoughtful boyfriend in the world. Can it be that I am freaking because he is too nice? That I can’t handle the fact that I feel that he loves me more than I love him, that I am not used to being level headed in a relationship. Can it be that I am only happy when I rely on someone totally to make me happy? When I worship the ground someone walks on and they barely notice I am alive?
Ah I am probably looking at this far too hard. Just wish that I could relax and enjoy his company and if I can do that I reckon it should all just slot into place.