There are so many issues and things to write about, but they are all confused in my mind. So, I am just going to write about Tom again for now. The only significant thing I want to write about concerning Tom that happened last week was on Thursday. We hadn’t had time for each other the other nights and only shared a few hugs and kisses and everyday talk.
On Thursday, after a very hard day at work, I went over to the University’s main entrance where we always meet. I felt like lying down on a bench, looking up at the sky and listening to loud music, to ‘come to myself’ again. And so I did, but only for a minute or two, before Tom arrived. Did he think I was embarrassing, lying there? We ate dinner in the cafeteria, walked home up the hill, and after taking a shower, I felt a little better. It was a lovely spring twilight. Tom and I were standing in the kitchen without lights on, and he was holding me. I told him about my day and the way I struggle. He asked me about my appointment with Mrs. H. I told him about my problem with eating too much, and suddenly found myself being more honest than before, finally telling him it really wasn’t any different from bulimia, just without vomiting. That I was putting so much pressure on myself in every aspect of my life and then sometimes felt the need to ‘relax’ or numb myself with eating. He asked me why I never did it when he was around and I explained that it is something I only do on my own and that there is a lot of shame in it. I felt ashamed telling him this, but Tom didn’t seem to understand. He said it was not the same as bulimia, and that it was apparently common for women to eat too much when upset, and mentioned the cliché image of eating ice cream after breaking up that is so often shown on the screen. I felt hurt that he apparently didn’t take my problem seriously, but maybe he really can’t understand. He witnessed his sister’s eating disorder and was pretty traumatised by it, but doesn’t seem to know much about eating disorders. I didn’t want to tell him more and remind him of that, and felt ashamed anyway, so I let it go.
He did reassure me that he didn’t think I was fat and that he didn’t notice my weight gain, and didn’t mind. What he also told me and what I found surprising (but in a good way) was the fact that on our first meeting, he didn’t think I was fat or ‘big’ or notice my figure in any particular way, even though I was about the same weight then that I am again now. He said that he would have noticed and minded if I was dressed sloppily in a hoodie, or had ugly teeth. What strange things people do notice.
We were embracing and I knew what I wanted, namely to lie down on the bed with him and cuddle and kiss and relax. I told him that I wanted to lie down and we did. I don’t remember exactly what we did, but I opened his shirt. He was wearing his white one without an undershirt. Tom asked whether he should massage my back again and I said yes, thinking why not, and got up to get the body lotion. When I came back, his shirt was off. He didn’t do any massage when I lay down on the bed, however, which surprised me, but started kissing and leaving love bites on my upper back and shoulders again. I liked that even better and told him so. Tom put an arm around my front and kissed my neck and then my lips. After some time, he stopped and lay down. I think he was tired.
Then, I think, we talked for a long time. Tom had only found out that evening that I work part-time (I had never tried to hide it but apparently not mentioned it) and asked me what I was going to do once I finish my dissertation. Those questions are horrible and I always ask myself the same and get anxious and then try to calm myself down again, and I think he noticed that it made me uncomfortable. Anyway, he said several times that he hadn’t meant to upset me and that it wasn’t important. He’s so sensitive, and even though I can’t imagine that he really approves of my ‘easy’ workload, or understands my fears and problems, he accepts me and that is comforting. He himself gets bored by routine and needs stimulation, and once he finishes his current studies he wants to work part-time and study physics. He told me that he wanted me to know that. We also talked hypothetically about moving to foreign countries to live. It was purely out of curiosity on my part, but now I think Tom really wanted to tell me about his plans for the future, and not the near future, but a few years from now. It seems that he really thinks we will be together for a long time. On one hand, it is very reassuring to feel that he isn’t going to potentially leave me at any minute, but I’m not sure at all. He is my first boyfriend, and I do love him, but how am I to know it will last? Last week we talked about marriage proposals among friends and family, and clichés about proposals, and June also once mentioned marriage in connection with Tom. It has crossed my mind, of course. But if Tom were to propose to me now, I would not know what to say. I would say yes in order not to hurt him, but feel trapped internally. It is much, much too early! I really hope he doesn’t ask me any time soon.
Anyway, it was lovely feeling close to him, feeling his silky, warm skin on mine, and exchanging tender caresses. It struck me how wonderful this feels, and how much I missed it whenever we were kept apart. I told him that it felt lovely and he agreed, and I told him how I had always dreamed about it and imagined how nice it must feel, but now I had experienced it, I could not imagine being able to live without. And I asked him how he had managed being single for so long after having had a girlfriend and having experienced tenderness. He said he wasn’t sure, and that going back to school had numbed everything for a time. Then he looked at me and said that he had also only really experienced it like this for the first time with me, and then he suddenly kissed me very passionately. I kissed him back, because I love when he gets passionate.
It was dark by now and I was lying with my head on his chest and the passion was over. I felt so touched by the way he had reacted, so safe and worthy and honoured to be special in his eyes. I wanted to tell him ‘I love you’ and there was one moment when we looked at each other and smiled, but I hesitated. Later I almost said it, but hesitated again because I didn’t want to say it out of regret for not saying it earlier. Maybe it was obvious that I had something on the tip of my tongue, because Tom looked at me and hmm-ed questioningly, and I finally said, ‘I love you.’ He said, ‘And I you’, and kissed me again with passion, but not as wildly as before.
We are getting to know each other better and better. I am trying to be honest and let him see my struggles and weaknesses, and am also learning about his. Last Thursday had made me realise again that despite all my problems and current doubts and difficulties, Tom is making me incredibly happy and I am so grateful for his existence in my life. I also wrote telling him this when it occurred to me (he of course said he felt the same). But he writes sweet things of his own accord, too. His professor mentioned a quote: ‘Where your treasure is, there your heart will be’ and Tom wrote that it made him think of me right away.