stormy--'s Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Day I talk about Pride and Prejudice and do some sappy whining (seriously, you might want to skip this one!)

This week we went from having temps with highs in low 80’s to highs in the upper 40’s. Brr! My furnace even turned itself on last night since the inside temperature was under 60 and the outside temperature was in the 30’s. And this morning I woke up to my grass covered in a fine sheen of frost. I love the fall. I mean, I LOVE the fall (mostly for everything that’s pumpkin spice and the changing leaves)! But I hate being cold!

I wasn’t expecting to see Joe last night. For the next two weeks he’s working in the afternoons/early evening hours. So, when he called me last night close to midnight and said he and Daisy were in my driveway, I was surprised. I wasn’t in bed yet. In the evening my sister and I decided to have a virtual girl’s night. We Skyped as we had dinner. Then we indulged in some snacks (some Halloween candy for her and maple Oreos and a tall glass of milk for me) as we watched my all time favorite movie: Pride and Prejudice (also my favorite book). (And it’s the 2005 P&P with Matthew Macfadyen. Not the one with Colin Firth which I could just never get into.)

The hardest part about my sister and I watching the same movie together is hitting “Play” at the exact same moment. But my sister and I have had movie nights like this together for years and we’ve gotten quite good at it. And we both know each other so well that we know when it’s okay to chat or comment about the totally cringe-worthy Mr. Collins, how annoying Lydia and her mother are, or how we’d like to slug that cad Mr. Wickham. And then there are those moments when we both turn silent. Those moments always include Mr. Darcy (when he’s being a jerk, when he’s a clueless jerk who is kind of charming, and when he’s a total cutie-pie) and when Elizabeth does or says something witty. Seriously, I’ve watched this movie so many times I could probably recite it verbatim without missing a single line.

So when Joe called and said he was in my driveway I was doing some clean up. I wasn’t sleepy because I was jazzed with all of the sugar I ate and all the warm and fuzzy feels I had experienced watching Mr. Darcy march across a field to propose to Elizabeth for the second and final time. And Joe had a tough night last night. Apparently there was a domestic disturbance that turned dicey (everything got settled safely, thank goodness) and he said he wanted to see me.

We talked and did the whole cuddling thing for a while. Daisy fell asleep on the dog bed that I ordered for her so she would have something comfortable to lay on when she’s at my house (and I’m so jazzed she likes it!). Joe was struggling to stay awake and I was feeling sleep calling to me as well. So I closed down the house (not sure why I call it that since all I did was make sure my alarm was set and the lights were off. But that’s what my mom called it growing up, so….), and then I dragged Joe to bed. Joe does this thing where he pulls me into his body, pulls the blankets over us, and then wraps his arms around me to hold me against his chest as we sleep. The romantic in me wants to say he does it because he wants to stay close as we sleep. But, in reality, I know it’s probably to hold me still during the night and so I won’t steal all the covers. I settled myself and when he kissed my forehead I said, “You’re nice. I like you.” That’s when Joe said back, “I more than like you.” Suddenly I wasn’t so tired any more.

It almost didn’t seem fair last night that Joe fell fast asleep and Daisy was doing her own doggy snoring as well. And there I was wide awake. With Joe so firmly wrapped around me I couldn’t even get up to pace, munch on some more M&Ms, or, what I really wanted to do, jump into my car and run away. I don’t know what my problem is. Or, more correctly, maybe I do know what my problem is and that’s why my first instinct is to run away. I’m not going to go into all of the complicated and sordid details of my life (that’s what I pay my therapist the big $$$ for). But I will say that my life - pretty much since the moment I was born - has taught me that I’m unlovable. And I’m not saying that because I want sympathy or I’m looking for comfort. No exclamations of the contrary are necessary. I just feel like it is what it is and I am what I am. I guess my point with telling you all of this is that I know that I panicked last night when Joe told me that he more than likes me because I know there is going to come a time when he realizes that I am unlovable. And, because I like him, that moment is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.

I got very little sleep last night. When I woke up, Joe was gone and I was kind of relieved. But when I got out of the shower he was back and in my kitchen making us pancakes. An early bird by nature, he went to his house to feed Daisy, went for a run, showered, and then picked up all of the pancake ingredients (since my fridge is almost bare) to make us breakfast. I can’t remember the last time someone made me pancakes. And they were good! So good that by the time my fork scraped any remaining pancake and maple syrup residue from my plate I talked myself into just going with the flow with whatever happens between Joe and me. I’m just going to enjoy and absorb all of the pancake mornings, fishing trips, forehead kisses, etc… while I can. And when things end I’ll survive. I’ve survived a lot already in my life. I might be a mess but I survived. I will survive whatever happens next too. At least, I hope I will.

*

3:16 p.m. - 2020-10-26

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries: