After the initial highs and lows of early dating, you come to a very cool little place. It's five months since I found the boy in a bar in Leeds, and it is with utmost relief that I say that it seems to be the case that the games are over. The pressure's off. I don't have to be "on it" when we're together. I can be sad. I can be mad. I can turn up at his house after a shift at work, sticky and smelly and covered in ale (bar-work is so glamourous!), and tired to the point of exhaustion, and just have a snuggle and a sleep.
The mystery's gone, but the excitement's still there, which is perfect. I've stopped seeing the boy as an adversary in the game of Getting What You Want, I've stopped thinking to myself "I win!" when I get my way, and I've stopped worrying if a text goes unanswered. It doesn't mean he's not interested, it's just that he's a bit useless. No worries, I'll just call him. Look at me, being all zen!
Instead, I've found myself a sound-board for my madder ideas; a chaperone if I want to go out and shake my tail-feathers; someone who can always make me laugh, and who seems to find me equally entertaining. It's quite lovely, all in all.
Those embarrassing little things that I told you about? The moments that made me want to curl up and die, because I so wanted to impress him, but coudn't help revealing my true nature (ungainly and totally lacking in grace, FYI)? Yeah, they still happen. They happen a lot. But it doesn't matter.
After the initial highs and lows of early dating, you come to a very cool little place. It's been five months since I found the boy in a bar in Leeds, and it's with upmost relief that I say...
... I'm finally comfortable. And that's just ace.
Sorry for being all soppy. Normal services will resume soon, I promise.