Yesterday (Sunday) was fine, too. We woke up and spent some time talking and cuddling. Then we had another cosy breakfast and Tom went home to cut his hair and prepare for a presentation. I had noticed, and after asking him he agreed, that as much as we love spending time together, being alone now and again is necessary. I prepared a meal for the next day and washed all our clothes and wrote a packing list for Pyne. Then I went for a long run in the woods. The first half was very hard, as all my runs have been of late. But then I started sprinting and suddenly had energy, and felt as if my legs were moving on their own below me while I was flying breathlessly through the trees. It was wonderful and I felt quite ecstatic, beautiful and strong and valuable, and not just because Tom loves me and we are so happy together, or because I lost a little weight, but also just from inside myself. I know chasing ‘highs’ is my usual method of seeking happiness, and I am trying to change that, but highs just feel so good! I went home and was very hungry and unfortunately ate too much, but it wasn’t a real large binge. I did feel regret, but managed to recover quickly from it. Sitting on the chaise longue by the window, I was writing about the previous day when Tom wrote to me, saying he was on his way. I quickly cleaned the flat and sat down to write again, and didn’t stop until I was done, just getting up to greet Tom, but not dropping everything for him. A small part of me felt guilty for ‘ignoring’ him, but there is no need. We don’t need to spend every minute together totally focused on each other. I needed to write about what had happened, to preserve and process it, so I did.
Then we ate dinner and talked a little afterwards. Tom told me that his mother had written to him and that she apparently thinks I am a ‘wonderful woman’, too, and that she told his aunt and grandmother about me. I felt very flattered again. It’s strange, because a part of me agrees with them and another part absolutely hates myself. But that’s old news. I told Tom that I wasn’t sure what my family, especially Father, thought of him. It’s hard to read my father and know when he is joking to cover up something. Tom said that he found it hard to interact with men in general, because he had grown up surrounded by women. This actually makes a lot of sense and maybe explains why he has mostly female friends. He said he hates loud, macho men and their talk, and they often think he is too soft and unmanly. And it is my theory that I don’t like many of my father’s attributes and so unconsciously chose a man who is unlike him.
Next day: I had to stay longer at work, then went shopping quickly and took a shower. Tom came home and when I got out, the dear man had already emptied the dishwasher and fed the cat. I made risotto for dinner, which he liked, and then we had a piece of cake, which he also liked. It’s a little difficult to cook for both of us, because I have to eat in a way that allows weight loss or at least maintenance, while he needs to be careful not to lose weight, so I need volume without calories and he needs the opposite. Besides, we don’t like the same things. Except for pizza. We both love that. Anyway, after clearing up, I put on my nightdress and got ready for bed and Tom went into the bathroom, and I listened to music, read and then watched June’s audition video. Tom came back in all his pale, slender glory, and watched the last minutes with me.
We talked a lot, too. I asked him how it came that none of his many female friends had fallen in love with him. It seems almost impossible to me. He is so interesting, so considerate and sweet. Tom said,’ well, how was it with us?’ and said he was very reluctant to show interest and so they may have thought he wasn’t interested, just as I had. He said there had been one woman he had fancied, at the school where he had done his A levels a few years ago, the nurse who lives next to him, one of his two good friends. She looked a little doll-like, which he liked. He also likes a certain girlishness about me, even though I can’t see what he means. Anyway, they became friends and studied together and rode the train together, but Tom was very reluctant. Once on a train journey, she had quarrelled with her boyfriend and came to him to cry, and he said he reacted wrongly and that ruined his chance, in his eyes. He said she was rather manly in her character, rather tough, despite her appearance, and that he now thinks he wouldn’t be happy with her, and that it would only have been for lack of an alternative, out of need, so to say. I aksed him how he had felt, had it hurt? He was vague, or I was so startled that I forgot his answer. She is still single now, and Tom is happy he found me and doesn’t want to change it. Then there was another girl from school who was a year above him but dropped down into his class. She was a little goth-inspired or lolita, and Tom rather liked her. They were at a party and drinking a little and I am not sure I got it right, but I think a friend of Tom’s wanted to make sure he didn’t drink any more because there was something between them and she was worried something might happen. I don’t know if anything was said or done, or if it was just looks. Tom eventually went home, though. I had a sad image of thwarted attraction and felt the familiar, sweet and heavy pain I had always experienced when I had had a crush on somebody. In my mental film, I felt extremely drawn to Tom from an audience member’s point of view. I always fall for the tragic hero, because I identify with him. Tom said that he and his neighbour went on a picknick last summer, and talked about online dating, and he even said it wouldn’t work. I can’t remember why, but things were decided then and Tom thought they would never be together. But a week after that, he registered on that website and soon met me. Oh, how precious to be with him now, to have him be attracted to ME, come home smiling to Me, embrace and kiss ME, fall asleep in MY arms. I am so lucky. To sleep, we lay in the spoon position again and I told Tom how much I liked being held by him like that, and that I felt so safe. He held me a little tighter and said he liked it very much as well and liked feeling me like that. During the night, it was too hot and I woke up and we moved apart, but it was worth it.
Once he also said he liked my legs, and I said I liked his, too. He has thin, straight legs, not very long, but not short, either. One of the first times I had felt strong attraction for him had been when he had taken two steps at a time going upstairs in that café on our third date, and I had looked at his legs.
On Wednesday, I came home from ballet late and very sweaty and took a shower. Afterwards, Tom kissed me in the dark kitchen, kissed me with sudden passion, and said, ‘I love you so’, and maybe my name, in a half-whisper. I said, ‘And I you’ and we kissed again. Then he apologised for ‘pouncing on me’. I had liked it, though. I love feeling loved and desirable. We went to bed and slept, both being tired.