NSFC = Not Safe for Cynics.
Please don’t read this post if you can’t stand anything mushy. I’m serious.
You see, I’m not a particularly good girlie type.
The truth is I’m cynical, fiercely independent and horribly protective of myself.
I have my reasons for that and I really battle to let go of the idea that there is no-one else who is going to carry my groceries.
You could say, I’ve been scarred.
Some of those scars, I even have myself to blame for.
Anyone who knows me or reads this (they’re really one and the same now), will know that.
The brightside of this is that, at least I’m honest about it.
The even bigger brightside of this is that the Shmooshy gets me.
He gets that I’m hypersensitive about some things, and not hypersensitive about other things.
He gets why I get insecure about some things, and totally not about others.
He gets why I have my priority areas, and understands why I don’t care about some things that other people think are so important.
He lets me sweat my small stuff, and he doesn’t make me feel stupid.
Here’s the thing, too. He phones. He texts. He hyper-communicates with me like I do.
He loves the cuddles. Which is totally hardcore. Because, you know, we’re hardcore. Hadn’t you noticed? 😛
He is Cam’s human jungle gym. And he listens to me whine about my life/day/drama of the century.
He makes me laugh so damn hard my eyes sweat. He’s all about the experience, and not about worrying when it’s going to end.
He doesn’t care what I look like in the mornings because he thinks I look beautiful. He even tells me so.
I look at Cam, walking into school (you’ll hear about that shortly), and I am so proud.
Shmooshy squeezes my hand and I smile.
I am the luckiest girl in the world today.