Today I’m a bit of a mess, a tearful, stressed out, unmontivated mess.
I actually had goals today; a mental list of things that I wanted to achieve over the 6 hours I have whilst my little girl is at school, and so far, 4 hours in, I’ve done nothing.
I think I woke up in a bad mood in all honesty. From the moment I woke up this morning something just felt off and now lying around in bed refreshing social media is the only thing that I can be bothered to do.
I had a dream last night that I was pregnant and I’m not entirely sure whether that’s contributing to this absolute shit mood I’m in, but I do know for sure that I’ve woken up in a worse mood than I went to bed in and that seems to be the only logical answer. But even when I’m writing this now, I’m not even sure whether I did go to bed completely happy last night, and maybe that has something to do with this too.
I’m one of those people who lives very much in the past. So things like timehop and Facebook memories are an absolute nightmare because I always end up thinking about this time last year. I don’t know whether it’s because things have changed so much between then and now, or whether I’m just somebody who loves the ‘what’s happened’ rather than the ‘what’s to come’ but I just love thinking about where I was and who I was and what I felt. The future, and thinking about this time next year scares me because I don’t know what might happen between now and then. I’ve become so much more anxious just lately about health issues and freak accidents that thinking about my life before is way more comforting than thinking about a future that is so unpredictable.
But anyway, like I said. I live in the past. a lot. And last night I found myself wishing that I could go back a whole year. Exactly one year to the day. Nothing particularly exciting happened this time last year, but I know what was about to happen. I know that I was only weeks away from falling head over heels in love and so was he. I know that I was about to experience a multitude of butterfly moments for days,weeks, months on end and feel a connection with him that I’ve never felt with any other human in the world. It was electric. Everything was so passionate, every text, every phone call. Every time we met up we would talk non stop for hours on end, not losing one another’s gaze for a second. We’d fight the urge to kiss or to touch because we didn’t know if the timing was right, but then we did and I swear fireworks could’ve gone off at the exact moment. Even after that, when we became a couple, we didn’t lose sight of one another, not for a second. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, work was filled with secret glances and texting when we weren’t near one another and even when we were we’d still do something to get the others attention. We went on date after date, drive after drive and talked until the early hours about life and love and our hopes and dreams. I learnt more about not only him, but myself in those first few months because I started to open up, to trust, and allowed myself to fall so hard – knowing full well that he would catch me. We made plans to travel, to drive for weeks on end with budget hotels booked along the way, we bought a map so we could stick it on the wall and draw out a route. We had the odd sleepover and then spent nights apart missing one another like crazy until we met up again. We went for breakfasts, for lunch, for dinner together and talked and talked. We got so crazy and we were so in love that we go engaged after two weeks and even that didn’t feel soon enough. He moved close by so that he didn’t have to commute as much and I moved my stuff in. I bought an extra toothbrush so I could stay there half a week without having to pack a suitcase every time I left home. I bought shower gel, pjs, razors, makeup wipes all for his house and it felt so right. So exciting. I stayed over, he worked, I worked. Sometimes I stayed in bed when he left, sometimes (okay maybe all the time) he would drive me to work on my day off. He cut me a key, he cooked me dishes that I’d never tried and I’d turn up in the evening, the house smelling amazing and we’d eat and wedding plan and talk and eat more and we’d fuck. Every night. Every single night. We showered together, we had lazy days eating the only snacks he had in the house because we’d forgotten to buy food. We made pizza together. I wore his clothes and did my uni work on his bed, he’d read my work, cuddle me when I cried tears of pretty much everything. Stress, anger, confusion. He helped me edit, made me a spreadsheet so I could work out my overall grade before my results even came in. We tried new things, things that I never thought I’d try in my life and he was there by my side, every step of the way.
Then he moved in.
I don’t even know why I gave that it’s own line, because now it looks horrible. It looks like something I didn’t want, or that I’m regretting. But I’m not, I’m really not. I just miss those days. I miss the early days when it was all exciting all the time. We used to say to one another that we couldn’t live like that forever, that hyped up all the time with crazy eyes and our hearts at 200. We said it was impossible. That one day we would have a routine and we’d still be madly in love, but it wouldn’t be as exhilarating or exciting. But even when we said it, I didn’t see it happening, not really, because we were obsessed with each other and I thought it would never change. But now, life has changed. And we have a routine, we go to work either together or separately, or one of us (usually me) is off. Then when we get home we have dinner pretty much immediately so that we can go upstairs and chill. And that’s exactly what we do. We go upstairs and we chill out. We have a chat about our day, we sit and scroll through our phones for about 45 minutes. I have a shower, we get into bed for a cuddle and we watch a movie or a tv programme and then we sleep.
Now I know better than most that this is the way that relationships become, especially when you’ve been together a while. I know that the fact we still communicate is a massive plus as is fact that we still make time for one another. I know this.
I know that this is all normal. I know that petty arguments are normal, and big arguments are also normal. I know that moments of silence when you’re eating is normal, that routine is normal, discussing finances or saving money or our work schedule is normal, moaning about work is definitely normal as is moaning in general.
I know that life couldn’t have stayed the way it was before because we were transitioning, and falling deeper in love. The the natural stage of progression was to move in and get engaged but then you’re spending so much time with one another that planning road trips where you can be together for two full weeks doesn’t seem as exciting, or where showering together is the most difficult thing in the world when there’s other people in your house and the cubicle barely fits one of you let alone both. Where talking into the early hours would be considered exhausting if we have an early start the next day and most probably a waste of time because we could be watching a movie together instead, in absolute silence. But then is there really as much to talk about? When you’ve covered how your day was, how work went, who’s pissed you off, how you’re feeling health wise/state of mind wise/body wise, what you fancy for dinner, how dinner tasted, what you could eat tomorrow, what essentials you need from Tesco, what movie you fancy watching tonight and what time you think the alarm should be set for tomorrow, is there really anything else to say? Do we know each other that well already that we don’t need to ask questions anymore about life or wants or desires or needs or dreams or hopes or worries of fears?
This is so long and my hand has the worst cramp. But what I’m trying to say is that for the last 24 hours I’ve been missing the before. Which is honestly the most stupid thing in the world to miss. Because things and people and relationships change every single day, it’s just part of what makes them what they are. I just wish I was so nostalgic.