I was a bit nervous on Thursday night. As usual, Tom and I met at the University and had dinner in the cafeteria. I ate his beans when he didn’t want them any more. We walked home and met two young colleagues of mine coming out of the library. One of them knows that I have a boyfriend, but I still felt a little embarrassed to be seen holding Tom’s hand. And a little proud as well. I feel this way all the time when we are in public. Proud to have a boyfriend, which strangely makes me feel ‚better’ than others or more successful, in a way. And a bit embarrassed to be showing my attachment to another person. And who knows what people think about us when they see us. Do they automatically imagine us in a compromising situation? Do they judge one or the other of us or think ‚he/she could do better’ or ‚she’s fat’ or ‚he’s scrawny’? I think those things sometimes when I see couples, but then catch myself and counter the thoughts with deliberately positive ones.
We came home and ate a biscuit (one of those addictive jam-filled ones) and I drank some tea. Later, we lay down and kissed and then held hands and caressed each other and while it was lovely, I felt quite frustrated and distant again, because there were things I couldn’t tell him. He gave a nervous laugh every time I looked into his eyes because we were lying so close together that our eyes looked huge. Once I asked him what he was thinking and he laughed and said that was strange, because he had been asking himself that same thing just then. He asked me what I was thinking. I was thinking a thousand things at once, mostly questions, but just said I had been wondering what he was thinking, which was true after all. Then I lay there and Tom was dozing off and I felt as if I was wasting time, but he was holding both my hands, so I tried to meditate. I soon felt cold and tired and drew up the duvet and we both fell asleep. I woke some hours later and we got ready for bed and slept again. Towards morning, Tom had a headache and took a painkiller and said he had to face the other way for a bit, but not because of me. I hope he doesn’t force himself to always face me when we sleep in order not to insult me or anything. After all, I sometimes face the other way and always trust he doesn’t mind.
I mostly sleep so deeply now that I forget Tom is there until I wake up. Despite feeling a bit frustrated with how we had slept the evening away, I felt so lucky to wake up with Tom the next morning, to feel him hum sleepily and reach out to me, to touch his silky arms and shoulders. We cuddled for a minute and then got up and made breakfast. It is the third week and we already have a routine. He brings rolls and I set the table while he takes a shower. On the walk to work, we talked about meeting again next Monday. Tom said that once the semester starts again in a month, he will have to get up early on Wednesday and Thursday, and maybe on Tuesday. He could sleep in my flat on these nights, but I won’t give up all my ballet classes for him. There is Mandy’s only class on Tuesday and Pointe with Franca on Wednesday that I promised myself I would do, no excuses. Tom can have a key and come home in his own time, or stay at University to work longer. (I have mentioned giving him a key to my flat several times and strangely, I always get the impression that he doesn’t want one. He always says he can stay at University longer or get up and leave with me. Doesn’t he want to have a key? And why not?) I still wish we could be together at the weekends, though. On the other hand, now I have the weekends free to see my family and June, do housework and cook and shop and sleep and train.
This weekend was successful in several ways. I did two ballet classes and wanted to do a strength class yesterday after ballet, but GFT was so demanding that I had no energy left in my muscles after class. I also felt the beginnings of a cold and decided to listen to my body and not do too much, so it would pass quickly. I absolutely hate feeling ill, and I think the viruses felt that and left my body again. Apart from a scratchy throat and a headache for some hours, I felt fine again and was able to be very active at home. I did a lot of ironing, pinning up power cords, thorough cleaning, some sewing and cooking and organising. And I ate pizza twice, cake once, and did not binge or even struggle very much. It helps to drink a lot, to keep busy and to allow more food, and ‘unhealthy’ food, and to enjoy it and anticipate the feeling of ‘it’s not enough’, but not let it get to me and not act on it. It will never be enough. Even when I eat until sick, I will want to eat again two days later. I really am getting better at this! And even if the scale moves veeery slowly, there is huge progress in my behaviour and in how I feel about food, my body, etc.