I was so disgustingly peppy today. I don’t have quite enough money in my checking account but things are lining up for Christmas, my vacation is so close to starting, and I had SUCH a good, orgasm-y night last night…I don’t know. I am SO happy. I am SO into Christmas. (And the usual worry and insecurity is underneath.)
I’ve been watching Netflix Grey’s Anatomy in the last week and more than once it’s made me cry. I cried at work a little bit last week (not at an inappropriate time, at least). I saw these goddamn beautiful butterflies drinking a turtle’s tears (!) today and felt like crying. I watched last night’s How I Met Your Mother where Barney and Robin get engaged tonight and I did cry.
The thing is, I went a long time without feeling this emotional. The inconvenient tearfulness hasn’t really been an issue, or I can’t remember the last time it was. I’m overly responsive to things that are touching. It appears that is just how I was designed.
I wonder if it’s partly that having another great time with a very great fella and the build up to it and the afterglow from it has enabled me to be more open. I’m afraid – as always, this blog should be renamed Adventures in Fear of Intimacy – that I’m really experiencing things in a way that I haven’t been until now. I’ve been happy. But recently, I’m happy and I’m sensitive and I’m confident and I’m engaged and I’m busy and I feel like me. I’m not giving the guy the credit, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s me. I think I’m vulnerable. I think that’s good.
The guy thing is not breaking news. It’s the holidays and if things are progressing at all, it’s slowly, and it’s unnecessary. I don’t need get all wrapped up in someone else just because I’m no longer dead inside. I just want to keep feeling things.