Multitude of Differences
Dear Diary,
I had a really lovely day yesterday, determined as I was to not sit at home any longer, I skipped a day of my I.T course and dragged James to Cardiff.
Well originally we were going to go to the beach, as the day had lied in the morning and pretended it was going to be sunny. But at noon it started going grey, so we decided to go bowling instead.
In Cardiff, we ended up not bowling at all. First it began with having a quiet drink the in bar, then we decided to see a film (Indiana Jones), and then we had some food and another drink or two, and then it was roughly 7:30pm and we just weren't in the mood anymore.
But despite the ruined plans, the day out was really nice, it was something other than the usual boring-ass routine we have. We walked around in the rain on the way home, we cuddled up in the cinema, we held hands over the dinner table and kissed each other softly on the forehead on the train - when the impulse took us.
I know he gets worried, because I can be so disconnected. He's constantly paranoid that when I'm quiet some evenings, it's because he's upset me, or he's boring me or something. And yes, maybe I might be bored - but not Of Him, but of what we're doing.
Okay somedays, I do crave a little more mental stimulation, but he's not my mother and part of me is trying to replace him with what I got from her on a daily basis. I love Him, and I love him more than I ever expected I would.
It's just so odd sometimes, to love someone and yet some days to just not really like them. They suddenly appear so alien to you - so opposite of everything you are - that you can barely stand it.
James is very black and white towards the world, whereas I don't think its even possible to consider the world in black and white terms.
He's very priviledged or has been, and so has no grasp of being poor.
He's extremely anti-drugs and a non-smoker, even though I still believe that within moderation, drugs can be good for you. Of course weed is supposed to be cooked, not smoked. Smoke is bad for your lungs. But his complete stance against any kind of benefit you might recieve from drugs, because they are drugs, is positively infuriating. Especially as I am one who's experienced such benefits.
He has no will or want to read literature, the films he watches are just utter blockbuster garbage or old war movies, he has no spirituality whatsoever and anytime I attempt some debates with him, he eventually just gets tired and has a headache.
But despite these multitude of differences, I still lose the ability to breathe when I look at him. It's been 9 months and everyday when I wake up next to him, I still thank whoever for sending him to me. Because when he smiles and kisses my hand and tells me he loves me - I nearly explode with love and happiness.
I really haven't ever been so happy, and I think I was given him, my irish motorbiking boyfriend, to help me through this painful experience...because if my mother had gone, and I hadn't had this happiness to cling onto, I don't think I would have survived. I think I would be far too broken to get on with my life as well as I've managed to.
My only problem now is to find a few friends that get along with him too. My family likes him - even my dad likes him! My dad is even cool about us two getting a house together and me moving in with him!
So I guess that counts for something.
I just want to have someone else to be with, I'm getting tired of spending my time only with gemma or james and I'm taking it out on them because of it. I need some new friends to play with - before I go crazy and push them both away.
Maybe I will just have to grit my teeth and go out with Laura from college. She can be annoying but it's still someone new for now that I generally get along with.
Well...time will tell anyway.
love
anempath