love love love

that’s all, i love freedom, freedom freedom freedom. And not that vain since of freedom that is just being able to do as you please, you have always had that, but being balanced and disciplined enough to love freedom in the greatest since of the word.

NeuroticMe slightly calmed down, and I’m no longer afraid (at least not too much) of my boyfriend’s moving closer to me, supposedly “for me”. Okay, for me. But still, now I’m perfectly serene about that. So thanks to Pask, Paoloa, Bruno Girin and Truma Junkie (and nbdys for the back-end support during the last two years), now it’s way better.

And from today on, it’s 43 days until I see him! Hmf hmf, should be fine given the 104 days I already went through. I feel nothing but love and joy in anticipation, at the moment. ::starts to dance on his own in the room::

So so, now he still lives in la Réunion.

Here’s something new; he phoned today, telling me that there would be two commissions at the ministry to examine relocation applications. Needless to say, he applied for the metropolitan territory, preferably Paris, and he’s got 50 to 75% chances to get it. Über-yipee, you would say.

Mais non. Here comes NeuroticMe again. It’s gonna be real. Like, he moves for me. My thoughts flow: but what if it turns out we break up? What if I simply stop being in love? What if it just doesn’t work, then?

I know it’s everything but chance that made us go out together on the very day he got his relocation from Strasbourg to la Réunion. Then no worries, NeuroticMe thinks: he’ll be far away, as in “it won’t be for real”. So I went for it, knowing that he’d leave.

But now, it’s different. He’s doing things for which I’m the only reason. And it’s bloody scary! I feel a big, big weight on my shoulders. What if, what if, and more what-ifs. Not to talk about when we’ll have the opportunity to move in.

I’ll have to teach NeuroticMe how not to ruin a golden relationship like this one by the fear of real things.

Bought my tickets! I’ll be in la Réunion in April, 6th-23rd. That’ll be the longest holiday with him ever.

Counting down… \o/ \o/

No more pain. Only life, and the mutual promise we’ve made not to be sad for at least a week. That might be a good solution, after all.

I’ve also thought of fooling my unconscious mind by saying “Don’t forget the roquefort!” when he leaves, so as to act as if he was only going to Tesco… And that worked out pretty well ^^

It’s bloody tough. It’s fucking difficult times. He’s coming tomorrow and I’m still sad, sad of his absence, in bad need of him.

And when he leaves, I know I’m not going to be under the weather; I’m going to cry the shit out of my dry shrinking heart, because of his being so far.

I don’t know how long that will last. Enough for us to remain together. I hope. Such a few things are certain…