I just found a bunch of old diary entries -- one was a list of why I shouldn't be tempted to go back out with Mr. BB, the most recent ex, back when I was still raw and needed to remember. And one was a gratitude list: "I am healthy. My parents are healthy and alive. And I am eating fresh tomatoes from my mom's garden for breakfast." The rest were snippets about the Cyclist. I'm only grabbing a sentence or two from each entry, but here:
[Gushing about his awesomeness.] Hey I just realized when I was writing about him I liked writing about it. I didn't want to stop. It was joyful. That's good.
I think our bond is growing. We are kind to each other. There is something about the vulnerability that happens during sleep that enforces a special sense of connection.
A coupla observations about him as a person: he's so even-tempered! Nothing seems to rile him up. He's also really good with plan Bs when the first plan falls through. Like when we were trying to get dinner and the place was closed, or when we rode an hour to the nature preserve only to find out the special biking loop was closed except for the first mile, he didn't seem bothered. He's so thoughtful. He made me another care package before I left -- he always does this -- it's so sweet and caring.
Last night I posted two more pix of him on Facebook and I think I am doing this because 1. I like broadcasting to potentially-interested dudes that I am focused on one person right now, please don't ask me out, and 2. I like looking at those pix and happy to have them in my photo album.
I called him my boyfriend to my roommates. I don't know if he is, but I would like him to be.
I want to thank him for being so nice to me but I don't know how to say the words. They sound tiny when they come out.
Someday I may share these with him.