I’m told by my friend in China that the year of the tiger is an unlucky one for us snakes. I’m not sure I subscribe to that; but so far this week I haven’t won the lottery; my Amazon order has gone missing; my computer (only five months old, mark you) needs a new hard drive – which will apparently take two weeks; and I spent a large portion of Tuesday with a pregnant woman shoving things up my bottom.
But more of that later…
Fella and I are very largely compatible but there is still some work to do to have a meeting of minds. We both, for example, like classical music; for me it’s baroque, for him the romantic. We both like to dance, but we both like to lead! It isn’t a case of so near yet so far, but rather a refreshing way of getting a new perspective on things. A meeting of minds works better, surely, if you have to think!
Fella, it seems, has found somewhere to live. He’s become taken with a flat in an area of Strumpetville known as Camberwell. It’s shared with two other gay guys, and he might even move there in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately it’s not very convenient for where I am, but I suppose I can move somewhere closer when he’s all settled…
Looking at places with him I found myself in a somewhat unusual situation; it was really difficult to consider various domiciles critically from his perspective. Would he like living there; can he afford it? Naturally I would like somewhere that is easy for me to get to and from, and somewhere that I would feel comfortable staying over. I realise that’s very selfish and in fact I am quite happy to support him in whatever choice he makes. But it does involve some tongue biting and a suspension of self interest that I’m not really used to – except in the background “in a relationship” sense, and for the first time swallowing my own opinions entirely for the good of him (as opposed to us).
Perhaps it’s just a case of “we fear change”. I’m confronted with the reality of a situation that I’ve discussed and thought about but never been. And that’s a bit weird; after all my other relationships have been with people who at least had their own place and it never concerned me one way or another what or where that was.
As for me, my visit to the hospital was not very pleasant, or hugely productive, but a small step forward tests beget tests, gentle reader, much as angst begets angst. My consultant was a very nice, very matter of fact and very pregnant doctor who thoroughly and vocally disapproved of my referral for a surgical consultation but after a very personal examination indeed (with, at the risk of being off-colour, quite a good technique in my view) it has been decided I need to go in for a bit of surgery to collect some biopsy samples.
So lots of changes happening at the moment. It seems April will be a productive month!
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Saturday, 13 March 2010
Domesticity
Right now both Fella and I are looking for places to live. It’s a peculiar dance that we do; who will move first?
He needs to move back to London, out of the (very salubrious and welcoming, to be sure) parental home: for the convenience; to be near to me; work; friends (not necessarily in that order).
I would like to move because after a year with the Gardener his ways are beginning to grate – as those of you who are friend to me on Facebook may know perhaps too well! Suffice it to say, kind and generous though he is in so many ways, his lack of consideration and peculiar ways in others makes me think it is time to get going.
Today both Fella and I looked at a number of properties; and no doubt we will make our respective choice in due course. Doing this has been most helpful for me in one respect – that of the Next Step of the Big Plan.
You know the Big Plan right, gentle reader? We all have one – the mortgage/marriage/children/death plan. I have alluded to mine – or, perhaps better, ours – when I occasionally lift my rose-tinted glasses to spy the glitter of diamond rings in the distance.
Anyway, anyway; what does occur to me is that the bestest best thing is for Fella to get his London pad.
Yes, that’s it. Sometimes we needn’t make more sophisticated arguments than the ones right in-front of us. When he’s in London the pressure of careful planning when and how we can be together is lifted; plus a couple of days at mine a weeks translates to a couple of days at his – and a couple of days apart.
Thus the less good pressures on my domestic situation are ameliorated somewhat. I have an escape clause and a lesser need to need the Gardener to my will [oo-er].
Fella wants his own space. For an angst ridden yet Cheerful Fairy like Strumpella this desire is normally guaranteed to make me Angsty McAngst. But it’s reasonable. He needs HIS space and it’s ideal that he’d be a few short minutes away from me (our proximity a precondition you see).
Anyway, anyway, I alluded to a plan, a plan… And here it is. A plan within a plan if you will: He moves, takes a year lease and at the end of the lease… well then we move in together. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to make it two years hehe! But the plans remains...
What can I tell you? It’s so good to be here. This point in my life works; everything’s coming together nicely. I’m no fool – much more a coward than an idiot – I know there’ll be downs as well as ups. But, and this is the very thing about the plan; it averages out as UP. And I’m never happier than right up Fella ;-)
He needs to move back to London, out of the (very salubrious and welcoming, to be sure) parental home: for the convenience; to be near to me; work; friends (not necessarily in that order).
I would like to move because after a year with the Gardener his ways are beginning to grate – as those of you who are friend to me on Facebook may know perhaps too well! Suffice it to say, kind and generous though he is in so many ways, his lack of consideration and peculiar ways in others makes me think it is time to get going.
Today both Fella and I looked at a number of properties; and no doubt we will make our respective choice in due course. Doing this has been most helpful for me in one respect – that of the Next Step of the Big Plan.
You know the Big Plan right, gentle reader? We all have one – the mortgage/marriage/children/death plan. I have alluded to mine – or, perhaps better, ours – when I occasionally lift my rose-tinted glasses to spy the glitter of diamond rings in the distance.
Anyway, anyway; what does occur to me is that the bestest best thing is for Fella to get his London pad.
Yes, that’s it. Sometimes we needn’t make more sophisticated arguments than the ones right in-front of us. When he’s in London the pressure of careful planning when and how we can be together is lifted; plus a couple of days at mine a weeks translates to a couple of days at his – and a couple of days apart.
Thus the less good pressures on my domestic situation are ameliorated somewhat. I have an escape clause and a lesser need to need the Gardener to my will [oo-er].
Fella wants his own space. For an angst ridden yet Cheerful Fairy like Strumpella this desire is normally guaranteed to make me Angsty McAngst. But it’s reasonable. He needs HIS space and it’s ideal that he’d be a few short minutes away from me (our proximity a precondition you see).
Anyway, anyway, I alluded to a plan, a plan… And here it is. A plan within a plan if you will: He moves, takes a year lease and at the end of the lease… well then we move in together. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to make it two years hehe! But the plans remains...
What can I tell you? It’s so good to be here. This point in my life works; everything’s coming together nicely. I’m no fool – much more a coward than an idiot – I know there’ll be downs as well as ups. But, and this is the very thing about the plan; it averages out as UP. And I’m never happier than right up Fella ;-)
Monday, 8 March 2010
Das ist Gut!
Another week between posts! I hope you will forgive me… I fear I neglect your lovely eyes; it’s just that I’ve been busy … fortunately it hasn’t been with work so much – indeed, as I’m due to go into hospital for my *ahem* close up next week I have taken a few days off so I can relax and enjoy myself.
Running and swimming is going well. Indeed, I’ve lost a bit of weight and fancy my swimming has benefitted me a bonny bit of boobage already – but permit me my conceit! For all is well, so very well, with the world*
Yes, I do fear the Cheerful Fairy finds Strumpetville a happy place gentle reader. And for that I apologise. You see, from a position of loved up contentedness it is difficult to contrive the cut and thrust of… well, “being stabbed in the heart by the cruel knife of relationship angst punctuated by repeated bouts of agreeable, if casual, sex” (I put quotation marks as I briefly considered that as a title for this blog; but it doesn’t quite trip off the tongue!)
What is the cause of my contentedness? Why – and I appreciate you may vomit yourself into a desiccated husk at any moment – Fella of course.
C’mon; this blog does sometimes occupy the niche between Jane Austen and “two girls, one cup”. I can’t believe it’s a shade under 10 months that he and I have been together, and so far things are going great. Lord knows I tried, but bless his heart I can’t seem to shake him. Lucky I adore him, no?
On Friday he and I went to a party; friends of his that are now friends of ours – two ladies who are engaged and saving every penny for their wedding. They earned my heart by organising Fella’s 30th birthday party; and it was our turn to return the favour.
Of course a great time was had by all… indeed, there is a good four-hour portion of my memory entirely absent, that I am assured during which I was ‘hilarious’. Uh oh. Then on Saturday we went out to the Green Carnation in Soho for another now-mutual friend’s birthday, and on Sunday a quiet day in punctuated by a visit to view a charming and ideally-located house I am interested in moving into (more on that later).
Presumably Fella enjoyed the weekend at least as much as I did because he did something that meant a disproportionately large amount to me: he updated his Facebook status to indicate he is in a relationship with me.
His profile had always been studiously silent on his orientation and other related matters and while I deeply desired it to be similar to mine – as open as the moon and skies, indeed – I could hardly complain or fuss about something so inconsequential to proper grown ups :-(
The change caught me by surprise and pleased me absolutely enormously; as did his status promise to be more appreciative! Well, I showed him I appreciated him oh yes…
Long and short of it is - I must be doing something right! Yay!! Now, have you finished being sick yet?
Running and swimming is going well. Indeed, I’ve lost a bit of weight and fancy my swimming has benefitted me a bonny bit of boobage already – but permit me my conceit! For all is well, so very well, with the world*
Yes, I do fear the Cheerful Fairy finds Strumpetville a happy place gentle reader. And for that I apologise. You see, from a position of loved up contentedness it is difficult to contrive the cut and thrust of… well, “being stabbed in the heart by the cruel knife of relationship angst punctuated by repeated bouts of agreeable, if casual, sex” (I put quotation marks as I briefly considered that as a title for this blog; but it doesn’t quite trip off the tongue!)
What is the cause of my contentedness? Why – and I appreciate you may vomit yourself into a desiccated husk at any moment – Fella of course.
C’mon; this blog does sometimes occupy the niche between Jane Austen and “two girls, one cup”. I can’t believe it’s a shade under 10 months that he and I have been together, and so far things are going great. Lord knows I tried, but bless his heart I can’t seem to shake him. Lucky I adore him, no?
On Friday he and I went to a party; friends of his that are now friends of ours – two ladies who are engaged and saving every penny for their wedding. They earned my heart by organising Fella’s 30th birthday party; and it was our turn to return the favour.
Of course a great time was had by all… indeed, there is a good four-hour portion of my memory entirely absent, that I am assured during which I was ‘hilarious’. Uh oh. Then on Saturday we went out to the Green Carnation in Soho for another now-mutual friend’s birthday, and on Sunday a quiet day in punctuated by a visit to view a charming and ideally-located house I am interested in moving into (more on that later).
Presumably Fella enjoyed the weekend at least as much as I did because he did something that meant a disproportionately large amount to me: he updated his Facebook status to indicate he is in a relationship with me.
His profile had always been studiously silent on his orientation and other related matters and while I deeply desired it to be similar to mine – as open as the moon and skies, indeed – I could hardly complain or fuss about something so inconsequential to proper grown ups :-(
The change caught me by surprise and pleased me absolutely enormously; as did his status promise to be more appreciative! Well, I showed him I appreciated him oh yes…
Long and short of it is - I must be doing something right! Yay!! Now, have you finished being sick yet?
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Pinch and a punch...
So here we are, the beginning of March… winter is coming to an end and spring is on its way. Although winter doesn’t end for a further three weeks – officially – I can sense it has already passed. The sunlight is stronger; the mornings are alive with the dawn chorus as the birds all sing “fuck off out of my tree” each day. It feels good.
I’ll admit the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling a bit down which is probably at the root of a number of things. However, that’s pretty much over (give or take) so it would probably be good to take stock and see what’s occurring…
Well, my application for my masters degree has progressed to the point where, though not quite ready to be signed, sealed and delivered, and very nearly there. Both my employer and the university have helped me with getting things sorted, and know an application is on its way. I should be set to finish this within a week or so – with a bit of effort!
I have been running and swimming, which is good. Well, the sight of Frumpella lumbering about can’t be described as ‘good’ (even though I got a couple of wolf-whistles today). But we’ll get there.
On the very very down side, when going through my gym induction something was found that suggested I had wider and more severe health problems than known. Today I went back to my doctor and the issue was confirmed; I have very very high blood pressure and now it’s back on the roller-coaster ride of tests and pills and what not. I’m becoming always a bridesmaid, never a bride, with all my illnesses. 32 and falling apart due to causes unknown!! Well, more of that in due course no doubt.
Work is picking up again after a brief eye-of-the-storm lull. I have been approached by people enquiring after my interest in this position or that once this current project is done; and the yare indeed interesting so more of that in due course too.
But on the very very up side I’m seeing my gorgeous man tomorrow as we’re going to the cinema. Hurrah! I was thinking just today as I prepared for his arrival by tidying my space up a bit, how much hearing him laugh is my favourite sound. And how much I like watching him sleep.
We’ve had our ups and downs recently but even at our lowest ebb I would far rather be with him than not! So, as it is Easter and he’s doing such a good job of looking after me I was thinking – just thinking, gentle reader - about whisking him away to Dublin for Easter. It’s certainly time to think about our next holiday!
I’ll admit the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling a bit down which is probably at the root of a number of things. However, that’s pretty much over (give or take) so it would probably be good to take stock and see what’s occurring…
Well, my application for my masters degree has progressed to the point where, though not quite ready to be signed, sealed and delivered, and very nearly there. Both my employer and the university have helped me with getting things sorted, and know an application is on its way. I should be set to finish this within a week or so – with a bit of effort!
I have been running and swimming, which is good. Well, the sight of Frumpella lumbering about can’t be described as ‘good’ (even though I got a couple of wolf-whistles today). But we’ll get there.
On the very very down side, when going through my gym induction something was found that suggested I had wider and more severe health problems than known. Today I went back to my doctor and the issue was confirmed; I have very very high blood pressure and now it’s back on the roller-coaster ride of tests and pills and what not. I’m becoming always a bridesmaid, never a bride, with all my illnesses. 32 and falling apart due to causes unknown!! Well, more of that in due course no doubt.
Work is picking up again after a brief eye-of-the-storm lull. I have been approached by people enquiring after my interest in this position or that once this current project is done; and the yare indeed interesting so more of that in due course too.
But on the very very up side I’m seeing my gorgeous man tomorrow as we’re going to the cinema. Hurrah! I was thinking just today as I prepared for his arrival by tidying my space up a bit, how much hearing him laugh is my favourite sound. And how much I like watching him sleep.
We’ve had our ups and downs recently but even at our lowest ebb I would far rather be with him than not! So, as it is Easter and he’s doing such a good job of looking after me I was thinking – just thinking, gentle reader - about whisking him away to Dublin for Easter. It’s certainly time to think about our next holiday!
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Stormclouds
One night a week is date night. Our night. Common to couples, but for us because we’re quite “long distance” the one night in the week we spend together is important.
Usually it’s Wednesdays, a tradition that evolved because Wednesdays are Orange Wednesdays – where my mobile phone company, the eponymous Orange, gives its customers buy-one get-one-free on cinema tickets.
Last week, however, Fella wanted to make it Thursday as he would be in town after work having drinks with colleagues; and that therefore it might be nicer if I were to join him and we then went home, had a nice dinner (cooked by him) and watched a film (picked by me).
Looks good to me…
So, then, Thursday comes around and I’m a bit tired after work but I go along and a couple of hours but around 8:30 I said I was a bit tired and could we leave? Fella on his part said it would be rude to leave just then as food had just arrived etc… well, it went on to become a bit of an argument so we agreed I would leave and he would come later.
The time apart became a Big Frosty Silence between as it became apparent that he had no intention of coming home at an early hour and I became gradually more and more annoyed. I mean, this is time spent with people he sees all day Monday to Friday. We spend Wednesday nights, Friday night, Saturday and every other Sunday together [which thinking about it probably works out a bit more time, but that does include sleep!!]. I was very… disappointed (*sigh*) that he would want to spend date night with them and not me!
But, one in the eye for the Universe methinks, Frumpella did not become the passive-aggressive conniption queen. No. Quite the reverse… a bit cunning, this Cheerful Fairy, oh yes.
You would have been proud gentle reader, for I told Fella that when he got home we should talk. And that’s what we did. By and large. Voices were raised from time to time but actually the discussion was all grown up and productive. We both said out price and I think we both had valid things the other needed to take on board.
Let this blog be too one sided, let me impart Fella’s criticisms: I never want to stay out when it’s HIS friends and colleagues. I’m always too tired to enjoy myself in their company. Yet I can go out until all hours with MY friends on a whim, anytime, with no ill effects. In fact his annoyance at this very thing was the root of the silent treatment I posted about in Aggravation and Maturity – yes, I was right (!) he was giving me the cold shoulder.
But also I take his point; I should make more of an effort to join in when he’s doing things; and probably let him go out and enjoy himself if he wants to. We did both agree this gets a lot easier as and when Fella moves back to London because then things can take place as and when required.
Fortunately Fella and I are fine; Thursday night and into Friday he was very loving, and we had a relaxed weekend, eating take-out and watching Will and Grace and Sex and The City, going for long walks, and having the Us time that was the root of all the anxiety in the first place.
So there we have it. A bit of a row; a bit of angst; all useful to clear the air. But I think it does underline how our relationship is changing, settling down, evolving… two steps forward, one step back!
Many thanks to my good friend F for this video!
Usually it’s Wednesdays, a tradition that evolved because Wednesdays are Orange Wednesdays – where my mobile phone company, the eponymous Orange, gives its customers buy-one get-one-free on cinema tickets.
Last week, however, Fella wanted to make it Thursday as he would be in town after work having drinks with colleagues; and that therefore it might be nicer if I were to join him and we then went home, had a nice dinner (cooked by him) and watched a film (picked by me).
Looks good to me…
So, then, Thursday comes around and I’m a bit tired after work but I go along and a couple of hours but around 8:30 I said I was a bit tired and could we leave? Fella on his part said it would be rude to leave just then as food had just arrived etc… well, it went on to become a bit of an argument so we agreed I would leave and he would come later.
The time apart became a Big Frosty Silence between as it became apparent that he had no intention of coming home at an early hour and I became gradually more and more annoyed. I mean, this is time spent with people he sees all day Monday to Friday. We spend Wednesday nights, Friday night, Saturday and every other Sunday together [which thinking about it probably works out a bit more time, but that does include sleep!!]. I was very… disappointed (*sigh*) that he would want to spend date night with them and not me!
But, one in the eye for the Universe methinks, Frumpella did not become the passive-aggressive conniption queen. No. Quite the reverse… a bit cunning, this Cheerful Fairy, oh yes.
You would have been proud gentle reader, for I told Fella that when he got home we should talk. And that’s what we did. By and large. Voices were raised from time to time but actually the discussion was all grown up and productive. We both said out price and I think we both had valid things the other needed to take on board.
Let this blog be too one sided, let me impart Fella’s criticisms: I never want to stay out when it’s HIS friends and colleagues. I’m always too tired to enjoy myself in their company. Yet I can go out until all hours with MY friends on a whim, anytime, with no ill effects. In fact his annoyance at this very thing was the root of the silent treatment I posted about in Aggravation and Maturity – yes, I was right (!) he was giving me the cold shoulder.
But also I take his point; I should make more of an effort to join in when he’s doing things; and probably let him go out and enjoy himself if he wants to. We did both agree this gets a lot easier as and when Fella moves back to London because then things can take place as and when required.
Fortunately Fella and I are fine; Thursday night and into Friday he was very loving, and we had a relaxed weekend, eating take-out and watching Will and Grace and Sex and The City, going for long walks, and having the Us time that was the root of all the anxiety in the first place.
So there we have it. A bit of a row; a bit of angst; all useful to clear the air. But I think it does underline how our relationship is changing, settling down, evolving… two steps forward, one step back!
Many thanks to my good friend F for this video!
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Aging
Today my colleagues and I went for out second run training for our 5k in April. We’ve been running around St James’s Park; at 2.1km three circuits is enough to keep us ready. It takes me about 10 minutes at a steady measured pace to go around the park; I think we should aim to get to a point where we can do the 5k in about 20 minutes; maybe a shade less.
One of us taking part is a guy a few years younger than me and also gay. He seems to compete with me quite openly to be the official gayer in the group. It’s weird for me, to be challenged in this way. You see, gentle reader, I often have a love/hate fascination for younger gay guys. I tend to find young and pretty guys quite annoying – essentially because I’m not one of them any more. Part of the reason I go for older men I suppose...
I myself am acutely aware of my mortality and, essentially, that – dimly I perceive - I’m not 18 any more. Much more than I should be I think. I’m beginning to feel I’m getting older. More mature; aging disgracefully. And I resent it.
Young gay guys who are out, on the scene, enjoying themselves are doing something I never did. Going for the older gentleman in many ways betrayed my lack of experience. I met a small number of guys about my age, maybe younger, just coming out as I was and without exception they were going for ‘teacher’ types too. We didn’t keep in touch…
I was young and pretty once. Not ever prize-winning looks; but I do feel I’ve entered a world obsessed with youth and beauty riding the absolute last train I could get. And now I’m jogging alongside someone who rather sensibly jumped on board somewhat earlier than I!
Being critical of what I’ve just written I would say (a) I needed – and still need – to take better care of myself and coming out was areal boost to that and (b) I’ve always been a bit insecure of my looks, and going out on a limb – whilst never wrong – wasn’t really helpful.
So is this all a bit shallow? I am concerned, you see, that I’m running out of goes, for the want of a better expression. One of the reasons I threw myself into men, whether it be boyfriend or otherwise, was because I considered I had left myself a very narrow window of opportunity.
I'm not so concerned about my colleague as I am reminded how I do regret coming out so late. But with that comes a recognition I kinda need to grow up to stay young. If I’d been different my life would have been different I honestly wouldn’t want that. I’d still be 32, slightly frumpy and with challenged follicles… but would I have my Fella? My friends? Would I have grabbed these opportunities or let them pass me by in youthful ignorance? Being in my thirties really works for me, so let’s look forward rather than think about what could have been… and let me get my beauty sleep.
One of us taking part is a guy a few years younger than me and also gay. He seems to compete with me quite openly to be the official gayer in the group. It’s weird for me, to be challenged in this way. You see, gentle reader, I often have a love/hate fascination for younger gay guys. I tend to find young and pretty guys quite annoying – essentially because I’m not one of them any more. Part of the reason I go for older men I suppose...
I myself am acutely aware of my mortality and, essentially, that – dimly I perceive - I’m not 18 any more. Much more than I should be I think. I’m beginning to feel I’m getting older. More mature; aging disgracefully. And I resent it.
Young gay guys who are out, on the scene, enjoying themselves are doing something I never did. Going for the older gentleman in many ways betrayed my lack of experience. I met a small number of guys about my age, maybe younger, just coming out as I was and without exception they were going for ‘teacher’ types too. We didn’t keep in touch…
I was young and pretty once. Not ever prize-winning looks; but I do feel I’ve entered a world obsessed with youth and beauty riding the absolute last train I could get. And now I’m jogging alongside someone who rather sensibly jumped on board somewhat earlier than I!
Being critical of what I’ve just written I would say (a) I needed – and still need – to take better care of myself and coming out was areal boost to that and (b) I’ve always been a bit insecure of my looks, and going out on a limb – whilst never wrong – wasn’t really helpful.
So is this all a bit shallow? I am concerned, you see, that I’m running out of goes, for the want of a better expression. One of the reasons I threw myself into men, whether it be boyfriend or otherwise, was because I considered I had left myself a very narrow window of opportunity.
I'm not so concerned about my colleague as I am reminded how I do regret coming out so late. But with that comes a recognition I kinda need to grow up to stay young. If I’d been different my life would have been different I honestly wouldn’t want that. I’d still be 32, slightly frumpy and with challenged follicles… but would I have my Fella? My friends? Would I have grabbed these opportunities or let them pass me by in youthful ignorance? Being in my thirties really works for me, so let’s look forward rather than think about what could have been… and let me get my beauty sleep.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Maturity
Treat this post, if you will gentle reader, as part two. I will confess, due in no small part to your kind words, that I did not act on my earlier impulse of confronting Fella. No, instead I did a little growing up.
Growing up is something a Cheerful Fairy does tend to avoid. I can’t afford the wrinkles, at the very least. Immaturity has an allure I am loath to let go.
Yet here I am. An actual boyfriend to an actual boy.
POW. Cue epiphany!
Fella came home on Friday and he was dead tired. So much so I thought it was kinder simply not to mention it at all and to have a pleasant evening. And the evening became the whole weekend and it seems he was quite pleased to pay me as much attention as my little heart could desire. So as such the issue simply faded away. A lucky escape? Who knows.
Now, I know I came across as a bit needy and insecure when I posted my last post. That is probably due to being a bit needy and insecure. Well, at the moment I do feel a bit out of sorts. I’m still ill and there’s only so long I can be busy at work before I become a bit ‘tired and emotional’. The cure for that of course is to continue down the road I set for myself – study ,exercise, good lurvin *ahem*.
Also, there is only so long I can ignore the preponderance of good advice and observations I’ve received since starting this blog – the big, positive, unintended consequence of pouring out… well, whatever occupies my pretty little head at any point.
So, a bit of growing up. It’s part and parcel of a wider change. I’m tired of making plans but rarely realising them. I’m tired of trying to please everybody and ending up pleasing nobody – especially myself. There still needs to be a little further effort before I am all at peace with myself.
What has this to do with Fella and I? Well, we’re fine. I’m still not entirely happy at all about this step change in our communication 'regime'; but as a relationship develops this will occur and if he’s going to wind down our communication when we’re not physically together then so be it. This relationship will develop and elements of it will ebb and flow with their own strange tides; no Canute am I.
A friend pointed out to me today that I can MAKE the time to communicate with Fella because, in her view, I can become uniquely focussed when I want something. As compliments go, I rather like it. Now I just need to realise when I done got what I want; as, with Fella, I have.
Growing up is something a Cheerful Fairy does tend to avoid. I can’t afford the wrinkles, at the very least. Immaturity has an allure I am loath to let go.
Yet here I am. An actual boyfriend to an actual boy.
POW. Cue epiphany!
Fella came home on Friday and he was dead tired. So much so I thought it was kinder simply not to mention it at all and to have a pleasant evening. And the evening became the whole weekend and it seems he was quite pleased to pay me as much attention as my little heart could desire. So as such the issue simply faded away. A lucky escape? Who knows.
Now, I know I came across as a bit needy and insecure when I posted my last post. That is probably due to being a bit needy and insecure. Well, at the moment I do feel a bit out of sorts. I’m still ill and there’s only so long I can be busy at work before I become a bit ‘tired and emotional’. The cure for that of course is to continue down the road I set for myself – study ,exercise, good lurvin *ahem*.
Also, there is only so long I can ignore the preponderance of good advice and observations I’ve received since starting this blog – the big, positive, unintended consequence of pouring out… well, whatever occupies my pretty little head at any point.
So, a bit of growing up. It’s part and parcel of a wider change. I’m tired of making plans but rarely realising them. I’m tired of trying to please everybody and ending up pleasing nobody – especially myself. There still needs to be a little further effort before I am all at peace with myself.
What has this to do with Fella and I? Well, we’re fine. I’m still not entirely happy at all about this step change in our communication 'regime'; but as a relationship develops this will occur and if he’s going to wind down our communication when we’re not physically together then so be it. This relationship will develop and elements of it will ebb and flow with their own strange tides; no Canute am I.
A friend pointed out to me today that I can MAKE the time to communicate with Fella because, in her view, I can become uniquely focussed when I want something. As compliments go, I rather like it. Now I just need to realise when I done got what I want; as, with Fella, I have.
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