Howdy Cool Cats,
As much fun as I have showing you my clothes, I feel a bit like constant outfit posts are (1) a bit lazy, and (2) not entirely what you guys signed up for. Don't get me wrong, I could put on slightly odd get-ups and coerce my pals into taking photos of me looking dorky and awkward for ever, but according to my stats page, what you guys really like is when I
pen type down my neuroses and reveal to the Blogosphere what a mental person I actually am, particularly when it involves my love life. So here goes. A little bit more about the boy (If you missed the original post, you can see it here).
It's been going... Well? I'm not entirely sure. We've been seeing each other once or twice a week, and when we're together, it's pretty great. He hasn't been repelled by my social awkwardness (on the contrary, he seems to find it quite endearing), or by the fact that I'm a massive geek with a penchant for linear RPGs and knitting. If our little romance was a movie, this part would be a sickly sweet montage to a happy nu-folk song. Seriously. He cooks amazing meals. We lie on the grass in his garden and watch squirrels chasing each other through the trees. I sit in his bed and write my blog, wearing one of his shirts, slamming down the lid of my laptop whenever he gets too close (because if he read it, that would be the worst thing ever). Hell, we even spoon - which is a big deal for me, terrified as I am of intimacy. It's pretty bloody idyllic, really.
So what's the problem, I hear you ask?
The other five or six nights a week, when I just don't hear from him, are the problem. And, no, I'm not one of those mental girls who wants to know what he's had for lunch, or sends messages going "What are you up to? Xxxxxx". I basically use text messages as a means of organising my life. If I want a chat, I'd much rather call or Skype. But I literally will not hear anything from him. We'll half-arrange something, and I'll text or call to find out what the plan is... And radio silence. Zilch. Nada.
Which is making me slowly turn into this:
|Yeah, my phone has bunny ears. And what?|
The mental person who stares at their phone, willing it to receive a message (that isn't from my Ma). Not fun. I much preferred being cool-as-a-cucumber, always in control Mona with regard to my dating life. This new, insecure, "OH-EM-GEE, why hasn't he texted me back?" model of myself that is coming out of the woodwork totally disgusts me.
He always comes through at the last minute, in that "Oh I'm so sorry! I thought I replied to this yesterday! This is the plan...", endearingly scatter-brained way which my friend B - who I'll tell you all about sometime - claims is just typical of "artsy" people. B tells me that we un-creative types cannot comprehend or change behaviour like this, but that we must just accept it. He says I just need to act cool, like it doesn't bother me, and learn to just go with the flow.
Well bugger that for a bunch of bananas. I am neurotic. I am insecure. I NEED MORE THAN TWENTY MINUTES TO PLAN AN OUTFIT WHEN HE SUDDENLY RINGS TO TELL ME HE'S TAKING ME TO A FANCY RESTAURANT.
So last week, I snapped, went a tad psycho-bitch on him, and explained to him in a cool and collected manner (just kidding, I went all shrill and startedspeakingreallyfast) that no, he could not see me that evening, as he hadn't gotten back to me, and so I had made alternate plans. He seemed a bit shocked by my mental-ness, but we saw each other later in the week, and as usual, it was wonderful; the usual rom-com worthy affair.
We then both left University for the Easter Holiday. I just expected to see him in three weeks, when we both head back to Manchester. To be honest, I was kind of looking forward to not having to worry about making plans with him, to a little interlude to the gut-wrenching angst I feel when I know we're doing something, but I don't know what, when or where (what can I say? I like plans).
Then I started getting texts from him. Little, chatty messages, which aren't actually planning anything (obvs, as I'm in Spain) but just want to know what I'm up to and if I'm having a nice holiday.
Boys are weird.
If you could explain this MENTAL behaviour to me, I'd sure appreciate it.