You read correctly, although it’s not a romantic date. It’s a friend date with one of her oldest friends for said friend’s birthday surprise. If I said that I wasn’t a little teeny weeny bit upset about it I’d be lying. I’m only upset, though, because I’m crampy, cranky, and hungry. I don’t want to make any dinner, though, because it’s almost midnight.
Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. In my opinion Valentine’s Day is for the birds-or folks who are in that first 6 months of their relationship bliss where you never stop fucking and holding hands and cuddling, and looking at one another all googly-eyed on the subway. Don’t fret we still hold hands, cuddle and look at one another all googly-eyed on the subway but when your period starts on Valentine’s Day eve it puts a little damper on the whole fucking part. We woke up this morning at 11am and she made what can only be described as the best omelette I’ve had outside of a restaurant specializing in omelette. They were filled with yummy veggies, cheese (bad) and fake meat and topped with more cheese (bad) and a side of hash browns that I made. We layed away the afternoon in her apartment over TLC and coffee before finally getting on a train downtown to J&R for a memory card. It was a good day in which we did nothing but where nothing becomes everything. When that everything got interrupted for plans I’d known about for over two months my mood changed and I became depressed.
There’s something a little nerve-wracking about the realization that you are dependant upon someone else, isn’t there? It’s jarring when you are aware that another person has a subconscious control over your emotions. I’d just gotten to this really safe space before I met Mirs where I was comfortable, finally, in my own skin. I was comfortable standing on my own two feet and comfortable in the solidarity of my life. I didn’t like it all of the time but I finally understood what independence was. And then love came and slapped my upside my head and my world got turned upside down in love.
I could’ve gone out tonight. I got invited to a birthday party that I’d electronically RSVPed yes to, but wasn’t in the mood to go. I wanted to and needed to spend some time alone to reconnect with me. Make sure that I still know who I am. After spending the evening with myself and my very naughty kitty I’m still the person I became before I found love. I’m better, in a lot of ways, because I spent that time by myself and I’m often better when I spend time alone even though I’m in a relationship where we try to spend the majority of our free time together.
Tomorrow I’ve promised to make my famous pancakes pink. She’s promised to get me cupcakes and I’m very much looking forward to it.