It really was a big deal on so many levels.
1) I was finding it difficult to feel attracted to his sloppy incarnation.
2)The fact that he took on board that it bothered me and stopped doing it and now wears proper trousers when he sees me just because it makes me happy thrills me very very deeply, which in turns makes me very positively disposed towards him which in turn has meant the re-ignition of my appreciation.
3)I think my waves of happiness are beaming out and warming him so he's being happy, which makes me happy and so on.
Poor Z has had a terrible run of bad luck and been the victim of credit card fraud for the third time in like 5 months so he's in a sad state of
But yesterday he came over and we went out to a drink to one of the local pubs. It was a beautiful evening and we strolled beneath white and pink flowering cherry trees and I told him about one of my favourite memories from last year, of when I was coming home from work after a summer thunderstorm of unusual intensity had shaken the blossomss from the cherry trees so that literally whole streets were covered with pink and white petals as though the city were having a wedding in itself.
And we held hands and kissed passionately on street corners or really whenever the mood of appreciation hit, and afterwards sat outside the pub with our drinks and a little bowl of spiced olives and shared a cigarette. [I reason that since I cough and wheeze when I don't smoke I may as well smoke and then at least cough and wheeze with a purpose]
And we talked and laughed and the evening air was soft and just perfect and I felt completely, utterly filled with joy to the brim of me, because it was all so lovely and we must do it again. We're too young not to be going out, even if it means sipping one drink for hours.
I do feel like new life has been infused into my relationship and for that I'm very glad. I didn't like feeling distant and restless and unhappy. And now, I'm enjoying things again. I'm loving having him around, his presence in the bed, the warmth of his belly against my spine. I love the fact that I'm important enough, or he cares enough to make an effort for me and I love the little half-rituals we have developed. Him smoking by the open kitchen window, or sitting down on the edge of the tub to scrub my back while I'm in the bath [Z: "How do you do this when I'm not around?" N: I don't]. I also love the fact that I'm comfortable enough with him to let him do the latter despite the fact that sat in baths in full light my body is displayed in some of its least flattering angles.
I need to be wooed. I've realised this about myself. I need to have an infusion of both Neptune and Saturn in my relationship, and without some magic and charm I feel emotionally dead. And the fact that he is willing to make an effort for me [and keep making it] is a really really big deal.
Big enough to feel that my heart is filled with blossoming cherry trees and light.