Almost 3:30am, and my writing chills have hit with a vengeance. I’m sure everyone who writes has his/her own name for it – that creepy crawly feeling on the back of your neck and shoulders, like someone with deep dark eyes is standing just outside the periphery, waiting for you to get it together and put the words keeping you awake down on paper or computer screen. The longer you ignore those eyes, the harder they bore into you, and the creepier it feels. So, I give in. I put down my book, turn up my Blue Bayou radio station on the iHeart radio app, and get to work.
Tonight I’ve been forced to face a fact I don’t want to deal with. I think I’ve officially been domesticated. Boyfriend is out of town, out of the state actually, and I no longer care for rattling around the apartment on my own. I miss leaning on him to watch TV. I miss sleeping against him. I miss him washing the dishes. They’ve already begun to pile up in the sink and the trash needs to be carried out. I used to crave this empty apartment, just Poodle and me going about our daily routines, checking in on each other periodically for a quick nuzzle. But coming home after work, knowing no one was here waiting on me was really difficult. It’s safe to say, I believe, that I have become “that girl” – the one we females (almost) all cringe at being. I prefer having Boyfriend home with me to having the apartment to myself. Never thought I would say it, but it’s true. I’m “that girl”. What’s really weird is that I like being “that girl”. I like being part of a couple. Granted, I hate couples – couples are gross – but I like being part of one.
I solemnly swear (I am up to no good) that this blog will not just be about my relationship with Boyfriend. But he will make the occasional appearance here. He’s linked to my every day life now, which is something I’m still adjusting to, but I still have my own things, just like he does. This blog is one of my things. He’s been invited to read it, but he won’t get a say in what I write. I need this to get myself in the habit of writing again – my poor novel is just sitting there, judging me – but it’s not going to be a one topic thing. I’m going to do slice of life posts, timed writings – both short and long, and poetry.
I’ve officially begun to repeat things from my first entry, so it’s time to stop now. The book I’m reading is calling to me.
kaleidoscopeeyedgirl 