Not on purpose, of course. I think about little things that would look good on a computer screen a lot- my new obsession with conspiracy theories, (which, actually, aren't really conspiracies at ALL! We're just livin in the Matrix. For real) all the funky dreams I've been having lately (this morning, I woke up with an intense urge to go to the gym. When I got there, I realized I had a dream last night where my former boss told me to loose ten pounds. I felt a small death somewhere inside me) or deep thoughts like, 'what's the deal with reality TV', 'how do friendships change over time?', or 'man, I think about my boyfriend too much', but I seem to loose all those little ideas in quiet monologues spilled out on my man's chest, hidden under a sheet.
You really don't need a blog spot when you have your own human well to pour all your random thoughts into.
It's great, meeting someone you connect with so fully and fearlessly. My hun and I have been together less than two months, but it seems like we know each other to the marrow and back. We're compatible, fascinating (to each other, but that's what counts), supportive and cuddly. He's changed me, for better and forever, and I've seen differences in him that make me smile. We're good for each other.
But...
Two months. We've been dating for two months.
I love him, I KNOW I do, and I know he would die for me. But I can't help but wonder if this is all just a honeymoon phase. If another sixty days will find us squabbling and bitter, and two months after that find me lying next to someone else.
I don't want that to happen. I feel, however, that conventional wisdom says that a fire this bright burns out fast, and we're given a short running time by the laws of the universe. There are a lot of them, and they're pretty fail-proof: what goes up, must come down, the shortest distance between two points in a straight line, everybody dies, and a relationship this new based on bein crazy about each other (no matter how good) is bound to disappoint.
Well, either that, or we'll be married by the end of the year, a thought that doesn't comfort me any more than the future demise of this beautiful little world we've created for each other.
I remember reading once about a couple that got married after seventeen days together. Seventeen. Less than three weeks. I think about them sometimes, not in relation to my little situation or maliciously, but just as one of those thoughts that randomly pass through you head through out the course of a day, like a theme song of a TV show from you Nickelodeon years, or the memory of your first grade teacher. I wonder what there lives are like now. If they're still together, if they have kids, what it was like meeting each other's parents or seeing each other through a major life crisis. I hope they're together, or at least happy. Everyone deserves that.
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