Friday, January 8, 2010


My date with the fly fisherman tomorrow may be canceled because he is feeling ill. Now being me, my first instict is to assume he is politely blowing me off, then I feel bad as he's done nothing to give me the impression that he would do such a thing and I realize that all that thinking is, is nothing but my own insecurity. My second thought was "that's what you get for looking forward to something", but in reality more likely than not, he is ill, it is afterall the winter. I am still a smidge hopeful that he'll be better after resting up today or that he'll take me up on my offer to make him soup and care for him.
I'm trying to be hopeful with this one. My fingers (and toes) are crossed that it works out and becomes something real and dare I say, permanent. I am hopeful that he will accept what I have to offer and not take advantage or take it for granted. He says the things I need and have waited to hear, and he says then often, sometimes jokingly, sometimes very seriously. I am aware of how happy I, we, could be, and how lucky I would be to have his love and his heart.
I am also aware that he is a fisherman, which means that there is something he will always love more than me, and that is the sea. I am strangely ok with that, as long as, at the end of the day, he comes home to me.

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