Feeling: squoooshy-happy
Listening to: James Taylor - You've Got a Friend
Reading/Watching: Gilmore Girls

Right now I am extremely sappy. I am extremely in love. And I am very much inclined to talk about it.

It means something when I am bustling around, trying to get things done, making absent-minded comments about how "eventually I need to get to the laundry" and mon coeur wordlessly starts sorting the clothes and carrying them out to the laundry room.

It means something when I am sitting on the floor, watching mindless television to keep my brain distracted (because if I stop and let myself start thinking, I will start crying again), and he walks in the door, sees my face, and sits next to me, folding me in his arms and waiting for me to talk.

It means something when I am having vicious girly-time, and craving chocolate like mad, and he takes me out to my favorite ice cream place, not just to share our usual small cup, but to share the most gigantic, extravagant hot fudge sundae imaginable. All this, without a word about how bad it is for us, or how we should go and exercise tonight. We're talking ice cream, hot fudge, butterscotch, whipped cream, pecans, a cherry, and a warm chocolate chip cookie on the bottom kind of sundae. Now that's true love.

It means something when I'm freaking out about someone else's problem, and he gently reminds me, "You know, it's not like it's happening to you. Calm down."

It means something when I'm yelling at him, and he points out that I did the exact same thing last week, and I'm a hypocrite.

It means something that he likes to do all the chopping and cutting for a meal, but hates standing over the stove, stirring and fiddling with it. Especially since I hate the chopping (and tend to hurt myself), but love the stirring (mm, and the smelling).

Things are just... so good right now. I know we're still all honeymoon-ish, because 95% of the time we're together we're doing every disgusting couple clich� imaginable (short of him rolling a meatball toward me with his nose), but he is so good for me. I am so good for him. We are so good together. And I am writing this to keep a memory of it.

And also to keep a memory of that sundae. Because damn, that was a good sundae.

Comments? 1 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.