Today I watched my
boyfriend "Fred" pack up and get ready to leave the country for a week...maybe more.
Underwear, socks, countless
plaid and
zaney shirts, jeans, and other various and assorted packing things.
As I watched him shave, a familiar "warm-fuzzy" feeling came over me. "I used to watch my father do this", I said out loud, then added "when I actually liked him". Its just something about watching a man you admire, shaving. Something so simple, yet so comforting.
I feel somewhat selfish in the sense I did not want him to leave. I hadn't even left his driveway, and already I missed him and longed to be in his arms again, if only for those few minutes. I also do worry, since I am female, and its just in my blood. "Will he make it there ok?" "Will he make it back ok?" "Will he BE OK????"
Love is making me lose my mind. I am scatterbrained, unorganized, even somewhat giddy. High school crushes all over again, little cute folded notes passed back and forth about the latest gossip, and talking on the phone untill 3am to your best friend about nothing but the "latest and greatest".
"Fred", just know, I am thinking about you, and have a great trip. I love you.