Archives for posts with tag: Sound of Music

I am so sorry readers, this post is long overdue. Why? Perhaps because I have been very busy. Or perhaps because I have been avoiding having to think about it all. I still don’t know what to think about it all. I am not sure why relationships have to be so complicated. I have no idea where this post will lead, or where to begin. So I suppose I’ll begin with the weekend to the seaside…

This time two weeks ago, my man came into London for physio, and I met him afterwards so that we could travel back to his home together. We had dinner by the river in London, then popped on a late train at Waterloo where I slept whilst listening to his terrible music with his amazing headphones. Two and a half hours later and we’re stepping into his house … and his parents are already in bed. Phew! Off the hook for another day, and I was way too tired to be polite.

The next morning as I got out of the shower, my man told me he would meet me downstairs and left his room. Don’t panic. You are perfectly capable to walk downstairs and walk into a kitchen with him and his parents in. Oh God. What if they don’t like me? I take extra care to make sure I look natural and radiant as possible and walk… very… slowly… down… the… stars… take a deep breath … and step into the kitchen and SMILE. “Morning!” “Mum by the way, she’s vegetarian!” says my man. I had asked him not to tell his parents I was vegetarian in case they had prepared any meat for the weekend (which it turns out they had… his mum was going to cook lasagne). His parents were lovely, and it actually wasn’t very scary at all. Phew! His mum even went shopping secretly and filled the fridge with vegetarian food, but packed it into the back of the fridge to make it seem like it was always there!

Over the weekend, my man and I went to the beach, walked for hours, pub lunched, went out for curry (he paid), met some of his friends, chilled out, had brunch with his friends (again, he paid) and it was nice. Nice – it’s not the most passionate word in the dictionary. I wasn’t floating, and I no longer felt like Liesl from The Sound of Music. But it was nice. Was it bad that I had stopped dreaming? I like that floating, girly, giggly feeling? What had changed? Perhaps the illusion of it all. I was in his house, with his lovely parents, and he was just a normal guy. He’d had it hair cut. Is that shallow? It probably is. But I just hate short hair. And all of a sudden he went from manly athlete to almost little boy (well he is younger than me). But he was nice, and I fancied him.

However, throughout the weekend I noticed him going onto twitter and facebook in front of me and clicking onto the TV presenter’s posts, and his ex-girlfriend’s posts, and all the messages from girls on facebook. Was he trying to provoke me? It was quite obvious he liked me, so why was he doing this in front of me? I suppose because he wanted the power? Wanted me to react (again)? Wanted assuarance of my affection? I really don’t know why. But I am aloof. And I won’t play into his games. And it made me feel like he was untrustworthy. Made me feel like I needed to play a game and be wary of him. My guard is up. Can’t men take Rhianna more literally and realise that girls need to feel like they really are the only girl in the world. Not one of many. And if you play the game with me, I will play it harder. And I like feeling like Liesl, and if I have my guard up, then I am not floating. So your games might mean you just lose me in the process…

the seaside :-)

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Have you seen the Sound of Music? You know the scene when the eldest daughter, Liesl, sneaks out into the night to meet Rolf and is so overcome with happiness she spins round and round laughing in the pouring rain? Well, right now I am Liesl von Trapp, apart from I’m not 16 going on 17 (and luckily my man is not a Nazi).

Did I actually spin around in the pouring rain? Of course not. I think I would have scared him away. The one great thing about age and experience, is that it makes you cool and collected… on the outside at least. I suppose girls never truly age when it comes to matters of the heart!

So let me tell you about my day at the seaside in the pouring rain… Wake up naturally at 7:56am. Check train times (9:12am), check weather (wet and cold). Get out of bed at exactly 8:36am feeling calm, and excited, and slightly apprehensive that I only have about half an hour to get my train. What do I wear for our date out of London? I’m thinking warm, comfortable, slightly rural, but cute. Abercrombie & Fitch skinny jeans, Ralph Lauren beige top, Nine West black leather flat biker boots, Abercrombie & Fitch burgundy lamb wool fleece, Barbour beige quilted jacket and green checked scarf. Make up? Natural. A bit of Mac Solar Riche bronzing powder, Mac shimmer blush (nice pink cheeks), some Benefit the’re Real! Mascara, and Vaseline aloe vera lip balm. Hair? Long, down, and a bit messy (well it’s going to be windy). And I’m out of the house by 8:56am and walking at a slightly rushed pace to the station.
Oh sh*t! I forgot my Young Person’s Railcard but there’s no time to go back. So my journey is £19:50 more expensive, but I don’t care.

10 minutes to spare in my changeover station, so I pop to Caffe Nero and grab a skinny chai latte and some porridge with soy milk and berry compote, and I’m off out of London on a 2 hour train ride!

During the journey I think again about how nice it is that I am not worrying about his opinion of me or what he thinks. I do momentarily worry that he will stand me up, and then I remind myself that I’m being silly. I suppose I am slightly apprehensive though… Because what if I don’t like him? And then I smile at the change in my perspective.
Then comes the first big decision to make… Where do we meet? He’s just had a serious operation so is unable to drive and living at home (his parents’ home) whilst recovering. He can pick me up from the station, but his mum would have to drive us (*is he cool with me meeting his mum? or does he feel obliged to offer?* … Stop over thinking things!). Or I walk 20 minutes into the city centre… In the rain. I worry that meeting parents goes against our agreement to take it easy and not be intense. So I… Take a taxi. You can take a girl out of London, but you can’t take London out of the girl! :)

What do you do in a seaside town when there are strong winds and heavy rain (obviously going back to his home is an option I quickly rule out)? You apparently get dressed head to toe in water proof clothing and embrace it. He brought a whole bag of waterproofs and warm clothes in case I wasn’t prepared for the weather (aww). I have fun trying on his waterproof trousers, but they don’t fit… so I settle for a wooly hat, and an oversized waterproof coat… well there goes my attempt to look cute, thank god I didn’t spend long planning my outfit! And I like being dressed a little bit dorky, it makes me all giggly.
And we go out onto the pier. And we laugh. And we walk along the beach. And he catches me when I nearly get blown away in the wind (Damzel in distress!). And we kiss but our faces our so wet that our faces slide off each other. And we giggle. And we clash teeth. And we laugh. And we go for food. And he pays (which means more when your man is poor and unemployed). And we take turns drying our jeans in the bathroom with the hand dryers. And we walk through the town. And we drink hot chocolate. And he gets whipped cream on his nose. And I giggle. And he wipes it over my face. And we laugh. And we go into the woods and have a woodland walk. And we sit on a waterproof (he picks a spot with a nice view). And we kiss. And I stop myself from singing love songs in my head. And we kiss. And we get wet. And we don’t care. And we kiss (*man, I wish we had a bedroom!*). And a squirrel comes right up to us, and I compare myself to Snow White, and then I remind myself to get a grip and stop turning my life into a Disney love story! And then finally, when we are so cold and wet we can’t kiss anymore, he decides that I can’t get the train back to London damp. So his mum comes to pick us up. And we go to his house. And we meet his brother. But I don’t care. Because I’m not freaking out, and I’m not over thinking anything, and it feels nice. And I have a cup of tea, and put my boots by the fire, and see his room. And I get in his shower. And… Oh hello, you’ve joined me in the shower ;) (a lady never tells remember) … And about an hour later and I’m back on the train to London.

And I’m not stressing. And I’m not worried that it’s intense. And I love that we laughed and had fun despite the miserable weather. And I have butterflies. And I’m smiling. And I giggled like a little girl all day. And I’m trying to snap myself back into reality… but I’m comparing myself to Liesl in the Sound of Music. Well I did warn you I was a hopeless romantic!

How do I feel? I just feel… And. Because and is a word that needs something to follow it. And who knows, maybe something will. Or maybe it won’t. But that’s also fine, because everything happens for a reason, and at least I don’t have Sunday blues. :)