be my valentine

In June I went to lunch with coworkers at a restaurant that handed out fortune cookies with the check. Mine read: “The current year will bring you much happiness.”

Eh. Not much chance of anything spectacular happening. Maybe I’ll win the lottery or something.

But for some reason I kept that little slip of paper. Motivational? Inspiring? I like to surround myself with positive thoughts. So I taped it to my computer monitor, so I could glance at it occasionally and remind myself that there is more out there to see, experience, feel, believe in. How could I have imagined that a few months later I would meet a man who would be the love of my life?

From your first email to me I could sense you were different. Your tone, the rapidness of your replies, the humor….You made me smile before we ever met, and since then I’ve hardly stopped. You have made my life better merely by your presence in it. In twelve weeks you have become my lover, my confidant, someone I can barely stand to be away from and want to be old with.

So now when I glance at that little piece of paper, I smile and think of you, and how something or someone was sending me a little signal to just be patient, you were on your way to me, and the dreams I never allowed myself to even acknowledge could be brought out, examined and maybe, eventually, fulfilled. I entrust myself, and my heart, to your care, for the first time in my life.

And know this, on this day that celebrates love: If we have two more months, two more years, or two more decades together I thank you for bringing out the best in me and count myself privileged to have loved you.

there'll be hell to pay

I can't stand it when I act that way. I behave better when I am answering to someone, be it personally or finacially. It's a control issue. Meaning I have none. I need a limit, an allowance. When I feel in control, I get out of control. There will be fair warning, but it will happen. And then I wake up with that unsettled feeling, don't remember the entire evening, and need to make amends for some wrong, be it real or imagined. My intuition tells me there wasn't a fight, but I still feel like a six year old who got in trouble and have a desperate need to talk to the Agent to make sure things are kosher. Only he's not answering his phone or email, and that could mean anything, but it's a first. Watershed moment? Maybe. What happened? Woke up on the couch, together, but clothed, and that does not bode well. Couldn't wake him this a.m. for a goodbye, which is another first.

I'm a jackass. And I might still be a little drunk.


UPDATE: Everything is fine, I overreacted as usual, but I'll still feel better when I get home. Which won't be for another 3 hours. Why oh why must I have a job?