Days two and three

As I lay listening to music and thinking of him, there was a knock at the door and he came in. A feeling washed over me… Butterflies and relief and comfort that he was there.

We cuddled and kissed and then it was time for breakfast.

Not that I was ever uncomfortable, but I am feeling much more relaxed now. We all sit around the table and eat and talk together. It’s lovely. 😁

After breakfast we all got in the car and Wild Card drove us to the ruins of a Roman town in the hills. The journey was beautiful, the place stunning, and I enjoyed every second of our fingers touching, him calling me princess and the impromptu dance we had in the middle of the ruins. Considering he was sick, he drove all that way because he knew I would love it there. He said he wants me to be happy.

On the way home we stopped off to see a number of things that he wanted to show me. He’s considerate and kind and lovely, just like his family.

We had an amazing dinner of grilled sardines and salad and a lentil dish of some sort. Once again, his mum had gone out of her way to manage my food intolerance with little touches just for me.

After dinner we went for a walk around the city with his brother. Here, something unexpected happened.

We were talking, Wild Card joking as he often does, and he happened to say something – in jest – which I took a little sensitively. He didn’t notice at first, but as we headed back to the house he pulled me back to question me.

“You’re angry with me? Seriously? What did I say?”

Despite my protestations, he of course wouldn’t settle until I had repeated the ‘offending’ comment which – of course – by this point didn’t sound half as bad as my overreaction.

He didn’t take it well. “You know I’m only joking with you, you know I’m always joking”. I told his to forget it, it was over etc but he wouldn’t.

When we arrived at the house, he stopped and leaned on his car. His brother, who hadn’t spoken to either of this at this point, offered me the door but I walked towards Wild Card so he went upstairs.

I stood next to him, and for a little while there was silence. He was upset and although I kept telling him to forget it, it was in the past, he just couldn’t. He kept apologising but at the same time, didn’t seem to understand why I had reacted that way. He then asked if it was because of his brother, and I admitted that was part of it. (In hindsight, I think this was a part of it. The joke was at my expense and whilst it wasn’t a horrible thing he had said, for a second it had embarrassed me in front of his brother).

We eventually went inside but it carried on. We talked about it a little more and then I went for a shower.

When I came back he just kept apologising. He said he understood his mistake now and kept asking if I forgave him. He kept kissing me and saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. He left for me to go to bed but then came back five minutes later and apologised again. He said he wouldn’t sleep until he knew I had forgiven him, despite the multiple times I told him it was forgotten about.

Truth is, whilst his reaction was unexpected, this sincerity and the depth of his hurt that he had upset me was so real. It of course made me feel bad as I knew he had been joking and had quickly realised that I had completely over reacted anyway. You can’t take it back with hindsight though, can you?

At the same time though, the depth of his feelings he had an opposite effect to the one he must have thought I had: it just made me love him more.

Day three.

Yesterday we had a relaxing day. We spent the whole day together watching TV, going for a walk, talking, kissing and dancing. Whilst I can’t get used to doing nothing – I certainly don’t do that often at home – I wanted every second to last for ten.

Because by the evening, I came to the realisation that half of my holiday was over. Half of my time with him was gone. And even with the knowledge that I still had half of the time still left to go, it filled me with a sadness that I was unable to hide, despite my best efforts.