I talked to A a bit more these past few days.

I feel a lot better, but worries will always be there until we add some cement to certain aspects of who we are together, and get some clarity and understanding about others. For the moment, it felt good to have at least one or two conversations where we spoke for longer than 45 minutes.

Yesterday he consulted me for some stuff about the next leg of his job, and I felt honored that I could be part of his solace, as well as his help. I want to show him that I respect him and I’m on his side.

As usual, the deep questions and comments went unsaid, but the usual comedy-slash-“we like each other” thing happened. I like it when he talks about himself. I like hearing his voice. Maybe it’s too soon and too much, but it feels like home. As does the warmth of his body, the strength in his squeeze, and even the annoying ass snore from his mouth. He feels like the kind of home I have wanted all along.

It made me realize that I need to get three things in order: finances, job, and the driving thing. Old as I am, it’s super shameful. As it stands now, the education thing is already in motion, so no worries there. However, I want to meet him dollar for dollar. I want to show him I bring more to the table than somewhat being emotionally supportive. I want him to take me seriously.

A has advised me (in a super soapboxy way) to stop calling myself old, else I wanna get wrinkles early, elderly joints early, and so forth. I can’t help feeling a little old, as all this nostalgia I grew up with is suddenly 20 and 30 years old, as if I wasn’t just a pink, fat babe in 1985. Still, Mr. “Lives life to the fullest” got a little preachy about it, and I’m sitting there all quiet like “yup, just like my dad.”

That part both amazes me and creeps me out, sometimes.

Still, I feel less sad about not hearing from A. I know he’s busy with changes and transitions, which is why I didn’t want to bother him a whole lot. Still, to hear his voice, to get his text, to feel his brand of affection and interest is something special. I probably won’t see him again until around Summer break or Spring break, so chats and calls are all we got.

I’m wit it, though. You do what you can to keep hope alive. After actually being with him, though….it’s so odd, still, not to be right next to him. What is wrong with my lovesick self?

It was bound to happen.

In any case, talking to him made it better. Getting my feelings off my chest helped me appreciate my time talking to him.