Gosh I am so pumped up I feel I should ask my blogging friends to pray for the soul of Nick because when the poor guy gets here (currently stuck in traffic in the final section of the journey) I’m not sure he will be able to handle me.
Darren has a lot to answer for. I think I’ve topped out on exercise today and feel good and I am positively trembling with some amazing chemical the body produces when we’re in a good place… it’s spilling out of me, oozing all over the place. I’ve eaten a bowl of grapes and some granola all day I’m just too high to eat.
I’m thinking crazy thoughts like wondering if we go to the woods could I climb a tree? Shall I go try? I’ve not done that for ages. I’m feeling like I want to run somewhere… haha me run? What the heck has gotten into me? Skinny dipping’s gone through my head, car bonnet action, motorbiking? Roller skating? You name it I’m a bundle of energies.
I’ve even been doing some squats in the garden holding a log above my head and I cut my washing line down to use as a skipping rope and did 100 skips! That’s awesome for me but I couldn’t dry my towels.
I’ve been in solitude in the house for a couple of days and I’m ready for company again, I feel like I’m going to dive on him and consume him when he arrives, I’ve got such a minxy head on me too, oh gosh the poor thing is in for trouble. I was…er how can I put this… reserved, yes that’s the word, reserved, the perfect lady with him last time but I’m not sure where the perfect lady personality went. I think she caught a bus back to Decencyville and left the unrestrained crazy impulsive thrill seeking hedonist behind.
Going to jump in a bucket of cold water to see if that takes off the edge. It’s not sexual, it’s not love, it’s not excitement even. I think it could be all of it, I think my id has taken over, my ego and super ego have lost control, I’m out like that pesky Tasmanian Devil way back when in the cartoons. I’m out of the box in a way I’ve not been out for many years.
Nick is 6’1, he’s mixed race (Scot mama and Nigerian dada), he’s got a kind of upper class English accent through his education I guess, he’s very socialist and deeply spiritual at heart, he’s got a good physique he’s kept in shape, he’s got lovely curly hair which is still black with tiny flecks of grey here and there, he’s clean shaven, dark brown pools for eyes, thick black long lashes, gorgeous hands (why do mixed African/Anglo people have such beautiful hands?) and he’s punching above my weight really (it takes a lot to get above that let’s be fair). When we originally met I felt we were evenly matched but he’s better preserved than I am even though he keeps saying he finds me as beautiful if not more beautiful than I was then, more intriguing and appealing and when he is with me he finds it rejuvenating. But I think he has to say those things because I’m a tougher nut to crack than I was when we first met. I mean that night I was so bloody flighty all he had to do was smile and my knickers slid off. I wasn’t quite that bad but you know it wasn’t difficult he was gorgeous!
He’s a couple of years older than me but like me a total loon stuck in his twenties. He’s very deep and in touch with his inner self and with the universe and all that (can you tell I’m not?), he’s intelligent and caring and sweet and I don’t think I ever heard him say a bad thing about anyone. We can both give an update on someone we know mutually (we’ve each stayed in touch with different strands of friends and some in common) and we just laugh our faces off, we don’t say anything bad like “I’m glad he ended up like that he was horrid” or anything, we just get juvenile about it, acknowledging the humour karma provides without being bitchy.
We like the same things, we relax in similar ways and take our pleasures in similar ways. He likes that I’m a moderately intelligent lady with a career and with an inquisitive mind, he loves that I’m always on a journey to somewhere and he loves my compassion and the way I raised my kids, he also loves that I’m a total fruitcake, immature, whacky and off the scale.
I keep wondering if he’s playing the hard game because that’s what it will take to make me yield nowadays and I wonder if he’s not just out for a bit of fun with some slap and tickle thrown in.. then I think “Honestly Michelle? If he was out for adult fun he could find better specimens than you at least aesthetically” and I berate myself for being so shallow and for underestimating my own worth… but I’m good at that, years of practice.
Oh goodness I’m going to shut up and go with the flow, the guy is in trouble. I’m going to just convince myself that he would not be going to these lengths for just anyone, I’m going to convince myself that yes he could have other women but he wants to drive the length of the country to be with me, he wants to take me on holiday no one else, he can’t focus on his work because I’m in his head, he let me into his home and left me there on my own for a couple of hours, he has no secrets… I didn’t look for any but you know he’s trusting me so I’m going to trust him. I trusted him implicitly as a friend, I know all about him there is nothing hidden.
I tell you it is so strange this because I love him as a friend, I’ve loved him for years as a friend, I didn’t love him as a boyfriend back then but I had lots of lust for him and he did tweak a nerve that no one else had ever managed and I have nothing but good memories even though we had a nasty break up and fate just keeps throwing us together and now I find my feelings towards him are shifting.
It’s so hard to love someone as a friend and then move into romance with them. Last time I did it, it was a disaster. The first time we kissed was so awkward and the first time I saw his little fella I burst out laughing just because it was so weird to have known him ten years and now to be faced with his little chap. I can tell you men don’t get too pleased when you openly pee yourself laughing at their Mr Johnson.
I need to do a smut blog aside from this one, I have stories to tell. I have been in some situations you couldn’t write fiction about because no one would believe them. I’m one of those people who just gets into tight spots.
Oh gosh, sorry blogging community I am rambling to shake off some of this adrenalin or serotonin or dopamine or endorphins or whatever it is surging through my body.
I’m away to have some fun now before the burn from Darren gets worse and I can’t move. I have him at 9 in the morning again and he’s told me we have to just fight through the pain… oh gosh I’m going to be in hospital for my birthday at this rate 🙂
Love you people, you keep me going and listen to me when other people would just slap me and shake me and I know some of you wish you could do that! 😀 I’ve had a lovely afternoon reading blogs and listening to music and I have been uplifted and driven into this frenzy of feel good, you are helping to create a monster, I hope you realise that 😛 Mich x