It’s Valentine’s Day, I can’t sleep. My period hit, I’m bloated. And I can’t stop tooting. Romance ain’t dead and there’s a slight upside to baerrito being 100 miles away because he doesn’t have to smell or experience or see my poor sad self right now. I’m rambling, I said I’d only post a few times a week, but what the hell. I’m hormonal and feel like Satan’s just woken up in my womb. And if I don’t post on my social media that I’ve made another blog post then I’m assuming that not too many will read my hormonal fuelled ramblings.
I don’t, or didn’t really do feelings. I’ve never felt enough of them to really be outwardly expressive of how I feel about a person. And honestly, I always said I’d never do a long distance relationship because I wouldn’t be able to cope with not seeing them every week. But I’m here, feelings and long distance and I’ve never been more content and happy.
(I might sound like I write a lot about him, but as time goes by, I’ll get more open and personal and explore many different things. And I wanna be stay within the theme of Valentine’s and love and sicky. And I know he reads this sometimes. Hi Daddy..)
I kinda get a little awe-struck by him. Like he overwhelms me with how beautiful he is and his eyes are so blue and his build and the shape of his shoulders and that he’s taller than me and I feel safe and he makes me laugh and my tummy does somersaults but not the sick drunk kind, the excited ‘holy hell this is my life’ kind. I cannot still, even now after nearly 6 months of dating get to grips with the fact he’s my boyfriend. Like you know you always have that person whose your fantasy person. The non celebrity kind who you imagine taking care of you and just sprawling out with them on the sofa laughing over nothing. And desperately needing them to fuck you because you desire them so much your body is already on the verge of cuming. And you start imagining how they sleep and how you’ll fit around them and what their toes look like; even how your hand will feel in there’s. Or how much your face will smile and your eyes light up to the sound of them calling your name. Little things like making them coffee, and knowing if they take one sweetener or two. Learning how they get stressed when they are hungry and how much they care about things and seeing their eyes go wide and bright when they talk about something they are passionate about and having them be excited about doing things with you. It’s strange that you are both strangers and yet there’s a real possibility you can both learn so much about each other and that whilst it is a fantasy, you are both just human and just by making certain choices your paths could cross and somehow that’s what happened and you finally asked me for coffee and I did meet you for it and 100 miles later and 11:28am my arms were around you and my heart felt whole again and the sigh of relief that came out of my lungs because I was finally home.
I write sometimes, I just write and it comes out. There it is, a little finger vomit of my feelings for how much I’m unconditionally in love with you. You’re my fantasy man and somehow I get to wake up to reality and you’re actually my man.
I still, I’m blushing and smiling and just how the hell did you come into my life and make me this happy and I cannot wait for the future and the next time I get to kiss your beautiful face and inhale your scent and just love you. You feel right and you hit me like a train, the slow kind that was delayed and then somehow explodes to life and you opened my eyes to life again when they’d been shut for so long and thank you for just; you and being you and for letting me be a big enough part of your life to be able to know you. To know your 50/50 miniature. I know now though that I possibly had that, something there for you, like being able to fall for you was always there, that chemistry, that spark. That.. just something. That little magic you get from a fantasy, only I feel that everyday with you. I love you, I really do.