My Love Story
We met in February.
The days were grey and it was bitingly cold. I didn’t walk anywhere – everywhere was trudged, head down against an icy wind.
It was nearly Valentines Day and I was feeling a little bit down after a nasty relationship breakdown. I hate Valentines Day when I’m single; the delicious chocolates in happy piles in the supermarket, my favourite colours of red and pink winking cheerily in every shop window, hearts and flowers and love and partnership; all mocking my state of oneness.
Then he appeared.
The day he came into my life, I just knew it was going to happen. I spent the day at work in an unusual state of excitement and nervousness and the joy when he arrived was of the stomach-leaping, fizzy blood variety.
It took me a few weeks to really “get” him. To really understand where he was coming from. The thing is that he’s seems so uncomplicated on the surface, but they say that still waters run deep and OH BOY! Is that ever true as far as he’s concerned.
He always tries to be there for me. We spend some time together almost everyday, and that’s really important to me. It’s strange actually, as I would usually feel stifled by such a close relationship…not this time. Maybe I’m starting to grow up?
Of course, we’ve had our ups and downs. Sometimes he’ll decide he’s not be in the mood to be with me, he needs to recharge, and I can understand that (although, I must confess that quite often I’ll keep on badgering him even while he tries to relax, and I’m a bit of ashamed of that, particularly at bed time) and I was very cross indeed when I found out that he’d been spending time with someone else and actually managed to get a nasty scratch on his face – which I’ve never got to the bottom of by the way.
I love him
The best thing about him is his easy-going nature and especially in the bedroom!
When we’re in bed, if I say I want to read a book he’s always, like “Sure, which one?” and he gives me a choice!
Sometimes, on a weekend morning, I want to just lie in bed and watch something on TV. Usually, it’s something obscure and a bit odd; like for instance a dramadocumentary on Enid Blyton which was aired 2 years ago. It’s never a problem for him, he’s always, like “Yup, No Worries, I’ve got that somewhere, let me just dig it out”
He loves playing scrabble with me (He usually wins!) and he’s interested in the same internet sites as I am, even going as far as bookmarking my favourite sites for me.
I love him.
He is TERRIFIC with kids, not only my two who adore him as much as I do (In fact as I’m writing this he is teaching Oliver how to play keyboards), but also with pretty much any child who comes to visit. He’s not so great with little babies, but you can’t have everything.
When I was ill with the flu, he entertained me for hours and hours, and when I drifted into a fevered sleep he stayed with me, comforting me when I awoke by showing me (on the internet) that I was probably not going to die, and did in fact, just have a nasty virus.
I really believe that he was made for me, and I for him.
So I dedicate this post to him and end it with a picture of him in all his glorious glory.