Deeper

I’ve been here for six days now. For those of you (and I thank you now) who have read about my last two trips to see Wildcard, desperately trying not to repeat myself. So if I do, apologies.

As with last time, we have now got into a rhythm of sorts. I can’t deny though that things feel different, in a good way.

Each morning I wake and freshen up before lying in bed and reading or listening to music. I wait for him. There’s no point lying about it, that’s what I do.

He’s surprised me by coming in as early as 8 o clock which is wonderful from every angle. He kisses me good morning and then we cuddle, legs entwined, my head on his chest and hom stroking my hair or my back. We talk a little. Sometimes he falls back to sleep (he is not a morning person) sometimes we make love. Then eventually, he has to get up and go to work. He kisses me before leaving and I watch him drive away from the window.

Why am I telling you this? Is it even interesting? I tell you this because when you are in a Long Distance Relationship (LDR), morning like that are gold. I love every second. Without trying to generalise too much, I’m guessing that most couples after two years don’t get that feeling each morning. For us it is a novelty and it is special. My advice is treasure those moments, LDR or not. It is too easy for life to get in the way of precious moments like that.

Needless to say I hate him going to work but he has to. So I get up myself and get washed and dressed and have breakfast with his parents if we didn’t have it before Wildcard leaves for work. My conversations with his parents and mum in particular are going really well.

After helping to clean up, I then do some drawing or reading or listening to music. I offer to help with housework each day, and each day I’m told no. So I relax and enjoy and…honestly again, wait for him to come home for dinner.

I get that thrill as soon as he walks through the door. My eyes cannot take him in enough and all I want to do is kiss him and snuggle up to him. To me he is still the most handsome man I’ve ever met.

He then lies on the sofa and I sit by his feet, often with them in my lap or he teases me by softly kicking me when I’m reading, only to stop when I look his way. Sometimes he gains my attention by making funny noises until we are both laughing.

I remember feeling really frustrated last time. He was always watching TV or something on his phone and although I like the physical closeness I admittedly get a little bored. Plus I wanted attention. This time, I go with the flow. I’m on holiday, he’s not. This is his routine and I am now a part of it. So long as I keep myself occupied, all is good – and the more I’m occupied, the more he disrupts me with his tickling, kicking and funny noises. Life is so much easier when you just lighten up.

To my surprise and delight he has actually initiated some amazingly intimate times on this trip, when his parents are out shopping. Last time, he didn’t at all and I wondered why not as it was the perfect time. These moments are extra special and loving and intimate, perhaps because we are so relaxed. The sex is different too than before. I can only put it down to this deepening connection we have: I’ve never felt anything like it.

Deepening is the perfect word for what is happening, for me at any rate. I knew I loved him a lot and knew I was completely in love with him. But the more we are together, the deeper it is getting. It takes my breath away, makes my heart pound and my stomach lurch.

I don’t want to leave. I never want to leave, I know that, but I’m going to feel a wrench this time that I’m not sure I can cope with. He’s attached to me in the deep depths of my soul now and to be apart from him seems impossible.

For my sons

I don’t know if this is a subject you want to hear from me. I imagine not. But I think I am the best placed to give you this lesson.

I don’t envy either of you. The world is a very different place than it was when I was your age. But some things stay the same.

The world is filled with images of how we ‘are supposed’ be. Instagram, Facebook, advertisements, magazines, film…all telling us what is attractive. This is for men and for women. The pressure is there for both.

Remember one thing. Someone, somewhere made the decision of what ‘attractive’ is. They then published it for one reason only – so we will buy what they are selling so we can look and feel like that. Keep that in mind every time you see an advert for abs, or for bulking up or whatever else men are subjected to.

My advice? Be healthy. Exercise, eat well, keep clean and tidy and dress well. That, my sons, will be enough. No one is enamoured with someone who never brushes their teeth.

I’m sure you realise though, that the pressure on women is perhaps even greater and always has been. Not only are they presented with professionally made-up women with their perfect hair and make up, these women are airbrushed and filtered. Whilst the male physique never really changes from a fashion sense, a woman’s certainly does. At this moment, round bottoms and tiny waists are in fashion. How ridiculous is that boys? A woman’s shape can be in fashion or not. What message is that giving them?

So for that reason, here is my advice to you.

No matter how beautiful you find a woman there will ALWAYS be a part of herself that she hates. She might even be unhappy with most of herself.

How will you know? It’s the part that she covers up: with make up, with clothes, with her hands. It might be the parts that she is always working on – a new diet or exercise plan, a new cream or make up product.

Make no mistake, whilst she wants to improve herself for her own wellbeing, don’t be fooled. If you are with her, she is doing it for you too. If not, then for whoever she wants to find. How much that is an incentive to her will be different for every woman but it will be there. Why? Because we all want acceptance. We all want to be needed and wanted and desired by someone else.

So this is where is becomes difficult for you. How do you navigate this emotionally difficult situation? How can you seem supportive and non judgemental but not dismissive of her feelings? That my sons, is the tricky part.

Whilst it is not your job to boost the self esteem of every woman you ever date, it is certainly your role to support her with that difficult task.

How?

By noticing.

On the days where she has tried extra hard with her hair or make up or clothes, tell her you’ve noticed. On the days she gets out of bed with her hair dishevelled and wearing cuddly pyjamas, tell her how much you love her eyes or smile or whatever else made you want to be with her.

Tell her, this woman you love, that to you she is perfect how she is, flaws and all. Tell her you don’t care if she thinks her bum is flat or boobs are small or stomach is flabby or whatever else. You love her how she is – healthy and happy and her.

No one is perfect boys. No one. Maybe there are parts of her that deep down you wish were a little different. Know this – we each could describe an construct a perfect person to be with. But what is perfect for us may still not be perfect in their eyes. Loving someone is loving all of them.

At the same time, if you say these things too much then it can have the opposite effect that you were trying to achieve. She won’t believe you and think you insincere. I know that it is a difficult balance, and it will be different with every woman. Again I give you this advice…Notice. Pay attention.

Never, ever tell a girl she is too fat or thin even in anger, even if she is. The moment you say those words you will lose something in your relationship which you will never get back. If you are worried about her weight then support her with it when she asks. Exercise together, cook together, encourage and support never criticise or point out her mistakes.

A woman’s self esteem is fragile boys, no matter how confident she seems. If she loves you, it becomes all the more delicate. Remember that.

Actions speak louder than words

The beginning.

Yesterday was a long day. Very long. I dozed on each flight but you can’t escape that I had been awake over 24 hours before I arrived here.

My friend said that my third visit would feel different and it does. I told him on our last phone call that I could wait to kiss him and hug him. He didn’t say much in reply. I could say that he was driving….but he didn’t reply.

As I came in to land I decided to stop putting pressure on this relationship and just enjoy it for what it is, as it is now. As I said in my last post, now is all we have.

We messaged as I entered the airport but there were no calls as usual. Again, I pushed the negative emotions back.

When I saw him I had the flare of otherness, of excitement, of love and of nerves. He was dressed more informally than last time. I pushed them back again.

He took my case and greeted me with a kiss on each cheek, we then started to walk to the car. It was easy, comfortable. He teased me as normal and I could not feel any nerves between us. It felt really good. Comfortable, natural. Like coming home.

We arrived at his house and I ran to hug his mum. I then went to his/my room to unpack a little and settle. We seemed to almost dance around his room as we both settled and changed. But there were no hugs or kisses. Worry started to creep in.

I was silly to. As everything and everyone settled, probably ten minutes there, he held me – squeezed me – and kissed me so passionately. And then I knew that everything was OK. More than OK.

We had a delicious dinner and we settled into a comfortable silence as we all ate. Then after dinner, we went to his room.

And then there was passionate kissing and touching and love making – and it felt like love, every second of it.

Everything feels so easy this time. Normal and yet special. I’m really happy.

Actions really do speak louder than words.

4am

Good morning!

I’m sat in the departure lounge. My flight leaves in two hours and I haven’t slept yet. I probably should have done and I’m regretting sitting down. I now feel really sleepy.

Travelling alone, I can’t risk having a sneaky sleep. I feel vulnerable and I’m scared I will miss my flight. But I really, really want to. The mask weirdly makes me feel even more tired. Looking around, no one else is sleeping either, even the ones in groups. Do they feel like me?

I can’t wait to see Wildcard. We had a tricky month after my last trip but things have been great since. I’m determined to be positive and confident and not worry about the future. I’m just going to enjoy the here and now. That’s all we truly have, isn’t it?

I wanted Wildcard to show some excitement about my coming but he didn’t. That doesn’t mean he isn’t. He just doesn’t declare it openly like me and I have accepted that. Sometimes, even now after nearly two years, some of his joking sends a pang of fire through my veins. It’s too easy to worry. I know I’m too sensitive and I wish I wasn’t, but then isn’t that just who I am?

It’s nearly 5am now. I wasted a bit of time walking around. The airport is getting busy now. I’m waiting for my gate number (which I’m informed is in 15 minutes). I’ve had an unpleasant incident at one of the restaurants here – giving me a disclaimer where they clearly state they fry gluten free food with all other food that is not gluten free and they couldn’t get me out of there quick enough.

I can’t wait to be sat on the plane as it means I am a step closer to him: that feeling of comfort and ease when I am close to him. And not overthinking of course.

Eating frogspawn

If you’re wondering what that is, it’s my breakfast. Yes, I know. Frogspawn.

It is actually chia pudding – chia seeds soaked overnight in fresh coconut milk. The rest is plum jam – I simmered home grown plums in orange juice and zest, some coconut sugar and cinnamon, blended the result and added chia seeds again to make a jam. Please tell me it is healthy. I’m led to believe it is healthy.

Yesterday was a baaaaad day.

Remember I told you about my detox diet? How proud I was of my efforts? Yeah well, I lost a pound. 1lb. That’s it.

Before you say anything, I know. It is better than putting it on. It’s more than I think. It’s still an achievement. But it really, really does not feel like it. I would have been happy with two – not ecstatic, but happy. I’d cut out meat and was having one coffee a day with a mix of almond milk and cow’s milk. I was having one square of dark chocolate a day. The rest was lots of fruit and veg, pulses and beans, water, green tea and nuts. Oh and the birdseed and frogspawn, aka quinoa and chia seeds. One pound. Let me say that again. 1lb.

I was devastated. Angry. Frustrated. I hated myself. My defective body with its flabby stomach, legs and arms. My inability to keep any weight off. My inability to seemingly lose any.

My motivation for this healthy way of eating was my one and half stone weight gain since January and my trip to see Wildcard in (now) two weeks time. My clothes are tighter, my stomach is bigger and I no longer look in the mirror and feel proud of my 3.5 stone weight loss. I’m angry I can’t keep it off.

But then, I did my usual. In a sulky strop, I baked myself some gluten free, rice flour and coconut sugar cookies. I ate loads of them. I had oven chips for tea, and polished off the remaining fruit pastilles of a bag my daughter had naively left lying around. If you are naturally skinny, you won’t understand this move. If you have struggled with weight, you will.

Last night, I was determined again. I can’t let this beat me. I thought about how I had lost the 3.5 stone. I merged that concept with the fact that I have bulk bought quinoa, chia seeds and other ingredients. I have come up with my own diet for the next week. So that is why I’m eating frogspawn this morning. Just for information, the coconut chia is bland and the plum chia jam is sour. It was just about edible.

Please feel free to message me with some delicious recipes for chia seeds.

If they actually exist.

Decisions and positivity

31st August 2021

Today is weird day. As in, I’ve felt weird all day. It is the last day of my employment. The last day of my current career, a career I’ve been in for 18 years.

I don’t know how to feel. I’ve loved being a teacher but have been unhappy for some time.

I’m tired of initiatives, jumping on bandwagons, the career obsessed, the paranoid, the power hungry, the government interference, the lack of team work, new apps and websites, assessment without levels, new exam specs, ever shifting grade boundaries and goal posts, revolving policies, academies, endless paperwork, watching my back…I could go on. I will miss the kids. Their innocence, their hopes, their fears, their characters, their laughter, their honesty, their gratitude, their potential. So I guess that is how I feel.

People have said that once this is all over, I will feel better and will want to go back to teaching. It hasn’t happened yet. I’ve considered tutoring but I don’t want to. I’ve considered supply but I don’t want to. Yes, I’m scared of failing. But there’s more. I’ve lost my passion for the job. I am disheartened, burnt out and can’t trust any more.

However, I’m a single mother whose ex borrows money from me rather than contributes. I have a mortgage to pay. Three children to look after. 

When I get my settlement money, I need to be careful. There isn’t any more after that.


As today is September 3rd, you can see that I didn’t finish that post. I didn’t know what else to say.

I’m still unsure what to do. I’m stood at a crossroads. The way behind me has the Great Wall of China, a landmine field  Sleeping Beauty’s thorn wall and goodness knows what else blocking me. I can’t go back.

But in front of me are many paths. I know which one I want to take but that one is the scariest. There are much easier paths that I just don’t want. Decisions, decisions.

I go to see Wildcard in two weeks. I’m excited. I know that I could work a little before then (if I take the easy, less desirable path) but it is not difficult to choose to wait until I get back. More decisions.

On a positive note, I’m on day six of a detox diet. It’s basically vegan with reduced sugar and caffeine too – I’m only having honey occasionally and one coffee a day. There’s lots of healthy grains, pulses, fruit and veg and nuts. Today I am eating chia pudding for the first time and trying to convince myself it doesn’t look like frogspawn. Quinoa looks like bird seed. But, I’m doing well.

Hope you’re well too. After all, positivity is a state of mind.

Control

It is 7.22am and I am on my first train on my little solo trip to London. Last night, I wasn’t sure I would make it.

Considering I have had three hours sleep, I have to applaud myself for being on this train at all.

My trip was planned as a soul searching journey. I still am not sure what to do about my life. The end of August is creeping ever nearer and from September 1st, I am officially unemployed.

Whilst travelling alone, my initial plan was to meet a friend there. We would have lunch today and then go out for dinner tomorrow night. Saturday daytime I had promised myself a leisurely stroll around as many museums as I wish – no pressure from anyone else, I could stand and stare or avoid as I would choose. I had booked a hotel need Hyde Park and planned to stroll around there too.

I was excited. I love travelling: culture, history and new experiences. It invigorates my mind and my soul and it is what I need right now. At home, I can’t think. My mind is crammed with thoughts and ideas and worries and concerns. I can’t sift through it all to make actual decisions.

I watched a great TED talk with Tony Robbins this week. He talked about decisions and actions. I realised, much like what I have learned with Mel Robbins, that decisions are power. When we make a decision and see it through, we then control our life. Everything we do or not do, comes from a decision.

So, I’ve made the decision not to go to London for the weekend as planned but just for the day.

Why?

I’ve mentioned my planned and then booked London trip to Wildcard a few times over the past week. Our conversation about this has been limited – I know that when he listens but is silent he is thinking and processing. I knew he wasn’t keen on me going there for some reason.

Last night we had our usual evening call. Despite his bout of covid, he is recovering well and was in high spirits. Until, that is, I told him that I was getting the train early. He had forgot (not unusal) that I was going today. That wasn’t the problem. It was when I told him I was returning on Sunday that was the problem.

Before you judge, as I am sure you will, there are a few things to remember. His culture is so different to mine and probably yours. I have accepted that as I have accepted all of him in loving him. Next, for the majority of our relationship we have been blighted by Covid. He barely knew pre-covid me. The one who went on holidays with friends, day trips walking and sightseeing regularly, out for coffee each week. He knows the woman who has been at home for 18 months, my only travel being to him.

The ironic thing of course is that my new found confidence in travelling alone has come from him and my trips to see him. Going down to London doesn’t seem that big a deal after navigating layovers in Spain. When I don’t speak Spanish. And got lost.

Nonetheless, he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t understand why I would go and stay there alone. He was suspicious and jealous and confused. Why wasn’t I going with my family? Why wasn’t I going with a friend? I tried to explain needing alone time and also that none of my family have the same love of museums and galleries as me, but he just couldn’t get it.

He talked about the seriousness of our relationship – would I travel alone if we were married? I answered no.

My number one choice, every single time would be to travel to or with him. Without question. I can’t wait to see him again and to take my family with me. If we were married, I would have no need to travel alone. I would hope we would be travelling together. For him, my solo trip was almost an act of defiance against our relationship – a kind of declaration of my still-singledom.

In my culture, without a ring on my finger, I kind of still am. In his, I am not. We are serious therefore we may as well as be married. I probably knew that deep down. In a way, it is comforting to have it confirmed.

By the end of the call though, as he had calmed down, he repeatedly told me to go on my trip. He claimed he had been joking – he wasn’t- and that he knew I loved him so it was not a problem. He said that there would be a discussion if I didn’t go.

Within ten minutes of our call ending – me still in shock and not sure what to do for the best – he had messaged apologising. He told me to forget all he had said and enjoy my trip. I reiterated that I never had any intention of hurting him and I could cancel. Considering our relationship recently, the fact that London isn’t going anywhere, I would have done this. He repeatedly told me to go: there wasn’t a problem.

Hence, my dilemma. I had a decision to make.

Yes, it is my life. Yes it is my choice. But it my choice to be with him and my decision to spend my life with him. Was this trip more important than him? Definitely not. Clearly, next time there needs to be a much more detailed conversation before I book anything.

And so, I choose this compromise and middle ground. I go for the day. He had been relatively happy with that in comparison. I am still going so not completely bowing down but am nodding to his feelings. I’m showing him that I care and he is important.

So that is my decision. Emphasis on MY.

I wish this trip hadn’t coincided with a cake order, but so-be-it. I had made the choice to take on the order, knowing I was travelling. I finished what I could for 2am, slept until 5am and got up to finish.

You know what this shows? I can do amazing things when I choose.

Just so you know

Aldi is having a ‘special’ on Gluten Free food! How nice!

Except…erm…most of us have to eat every day. And, well, don’t choose to have an allergy/intolerance to Gluten or indeed have Celiac disease.

It is a lot better than it was. Asda, Tesco and Morrisons deserve hero status in my book. There are now lots of options, and even better, the prices have come down. I no longer have to pay £3.50 for a loaf that is smaller than a 400g normal loaf.

BUT…

There is something else that really, really irritates me. And I’m sorry if this applies to you. I am. But this is how I feel.

Shops, restaurants, cafes are going out of their way to prepare vegan food. It is everywhere. And that is not a bad thing, I guess, except for one detail. Gluten Free comes a miserly second to this approach. And why is this an issue?

Because, I would guess, the vast majority of Vegans choose to eat that way. Most Gluten Free eaters do not choose to be Gluten Free. (I know some people do as they think it is a weight loss tool. Words fail me).

Gluten makes me sick. Really sick. Between 20 minutes and an hour after eating it, I go quiet. I am dazed. My nose goes bright red. My head feels heavy. My breathing quickens. And then I just flop. And I can’t move. I’m drowsy, lethargic, can’t walk unaided. I will sleep for hours. Later, I will have crippling stomach ache and diarrhoea. And the shivers. For days my stomach will hurt me.

I don’t choose to be Gluten Free. Most Gluten Free substitutes taste awful, cost the earth and have more calories in them.

Just so you know. It is great that there are most vegan choices. Just don’t forget that Gluten Free is not a choice for most.

Jealousy and regret

It is a rainy day here in the UK. We’ve enjoyed weeks of sunshine and it appears to be over. I think I just heard thunder too.

I don’t feel great today. I’ve been letting things slide. I feel…yuk: tired, woozy head, little energy, little motivation. My head is racing with a million thoughts and possibilities. I’m not sleeping properly. I know I need to sort my diet, exercise, career, finances, house, love life…. I feel out of control. Not in a way that I am going to go and do something stupid. Just that there is no clear path, structure, plan. And I hate that.

We could, and probably should, talk about how I regularly make a plan and I never stick to it. I go back to this base point then try again.

This tells me two things:

  • At least I keep trying
  • I’ve not made the right plan yet

I feel like I am on the edge of finding the secret formula to a happy life but I need to find it in the swirling mess of possibilities in my head.

Last night I felt very low. Beaten.

My London friend has successfully traveled to her boyfriend’s (and Wildcard’s) country. I’m really happy and excited for her, and was glad I’ve been able to help, particularly when the airline staff tried to prevent her from boarding from sheer ignorance and arrogance.

Oh the symbolism!

Yesterday she messaged me to say she’d had an amazing first night with him and that he had proposed. I was so happy for her as I know that is what she wanted. But my goodness, it was like a punch in the stomach.

She’d had the experience I had hoped for and dreamed of. They discussed everything, and will get a ring in the next few months (he wants to save up for a special ring) and they plan to wed next year.

I wasn’t expecting a proposal on my visit but I wanted a conversation. I got neither.

I can’t describe in enough depth that heart heavy-soul sinking-accompanied by physical pangs of pain, that I felt. Jealousy is never a good emotion to have. This was more. It was complete and utter self loathing. I wasn’t as pretty as her. He doesn’t love me enough. I’m not good enough. Blah blah blah.

I know we are different people in different circumstances but it feels a little like I am in an alternative universe where I get the counter story to hers. I’ve explained our similarities- both divorced mothers of three, both work in education, been with our LDR approximately 2 years, LDR in the same country and similar ages. She has the promise for forever. What did I get?

Regular readers, you know this information dragged me down. I was exhausted – I had been at the zoo all day with my family and am feeling yuk at the moment. But this had hit me hard.

I went for a lie down and just willed myself to sleep, process and recover. But he called.

You know I couldn’t hide it. You know he demanded I told him. You know there is no point trying to lie about it. He always knows.

I told him repeatedly that I didn’t want to talk about it. He asked for a headline. I said ‘jealousy.’ I think regret is probably more accurate – so is the power of hindsight.

Of course, once he had that headline he wouldn’t settle until he had the full story. I explained. He asked “what is the problem?”

“He told her how much he loved her and missed her and then proposed.”

“Ahhh.” The moment of understanding dawned on him. “Well if you want a boyfriend who tells you he loves you and misses you, go find one. That isn’t me.”

Wow.

Notice his comment didn’t even mention the proposal?

He then proceeded to ask me a lot of questions – their age, length of their relationship, when they would marry etc. I don’t think the similarities were lost on him. But we then continued our conversation as normal and this morning’s call was normal too.

I’m calm now also. I want him to want me and love me. Forcing him to my way of thinking is not the way. Changing him to fulfil my needs is pointless. If he wants me, he will tell me. I don’t want to lose him so I will continue, as is, for now.

The focus is back on me, where it should have been for some time. The end of my current school career is days away and I no longer have the pull of needing a visit to Wildcard.

Time to sort myself out.

Waves

How do you like my pool?

I’m soaking in the last of July’s heat in the pool. It was a good investment, considering. My children, sisters, niece and nephew have barely been out of it. Today, however, I have it to myself.

As I was floating about in the heart shaped doughnut, my next post was milling about in my mind. But when I logged on, I realised that it had actually been six days since my last post! Where did the time go?

A quick recap of my last post and I think I know where we are up to.

In summary, Wildcard indicated that he had not expected or was not ready for me to come back so soon. After me initially being quite assertive and strong over this, we’d had another heated talk and I began to understand a little more. Others around me, not so much. But then, it is nothing to do with them.

We have had a relatively good week, Wildcard and I.

I had an early morning meeting with my union and I’d informed Wildcard that he would have to get up early if he wanted to speak to me. We’d laughed because he struggles to get up for work nevermind just to say good morning to me. And yet he did – he called nearly an hour earlier than normal. Although he claimed he had woken to go to the toilet, I don’t believe him.

Yesterday I told him that I had to change my flights by the end of the day. He suggested September or October! A month earlier than planned so I seized that opportunity. I’m booked for mid September. He was very thoughtful when I told him of the booked date today but I know that the rapidly increasing Covid in his country is concerning him. He thinks his country may well shut again.

My friendship with my London friend is coming on. We have just clicked and have lots of similarities. Tomorrow she flies out to see her boyfriend and I’ve been with her every step of the way. I’m very, very excited for her and can’t pretend that I’m not tempted by her repeated offers for me to join her.

I was riding on a wave of excitement this morning when I spoke to her. I had changed my flights last night and was feeling positive. We shared stories of first kisses and the overwhelming feelings of traveling to see someone you love and miss so much.

I got swept away. Last night I had remembered the feel of our first kiss and I told her about it. As usual, my emotions and love and need for him just swelled like the pull of a great wave.

This is often the way with me. I get overwhelmed by a feeling and in that moment, I just need some relief or release. If he was here, I would have hugged and squeezed him and kissed him on the lips. When I feel like that with my children, that is what I do – I hug them and shower them with kisses all over their cute faces. But Wildcard is not here.

So I messaged him. Before long he called me. I was bright and cheerful. I felt good. He was sleepy and quiet.

Right there and then, threatened by this overwhelming love for him, I needed something. I couldn’t have that physical touch and so I needed his affection, his words.

Unfortunately, he is not one for words. He jokes and he teases and my love comes from that. He gives me his time. When I’m with him, his loves comes from playful slaps on the bottom or tickles more often than the tender, gentle kisses he surprises me with. (Which of course makes those kisses all the more special, darn him.)

And it is no good asking him to tell me. He has admitted himself in the past, he doesn’t like being forced to say or do something . He will do it when he wants and when he is ready. So in those moments then, he won’t give me want I want in the way I want it. He does it his own way.

(I’m out of the pool by the way. Apparently floating on a giant doughnut gives me motion sickness.)

So his answers to my questions were ‘no’ in that jokey way I find so cute when I’m not being hormonal, needy and emotional. It is his way of saying yes without saying it. I know that, he knows that. My emotions however refused to accept that.

Floating around the pool getting increasingly more nauseous, I realised that my tears are my release then. When I am not soothed by the physical or by his words, I cry. And slowly and surely, my emotion and need is released in each mini wave of tears. I am self regulating by crying. Hmmmm.

I also know I comfort eat for the same reason. When doing something stressful, I will ‘wake up’ from my stress obsessed thoughts and find myself in the kitchen cramming something in my mouth. Honestly, I catch myself doing it.

These waves of emotion are more common around my period. There is no surprise there. Wildcard knows it too – he said that I just need to get it out and I will be ok tomorrow. Hmph.

Before you think him callous and unfeeling, know that on these occasions whilst not giving into my repeated and needy demands for verbal affection, he will not end a call until I am tear free. He will attempt to make me laugh, change the subject but will not go until he is sure I am OK.

And that, with tears in my eyes as I write this, is how he shows me love.