I’m writing from my boyfriend’s flat, drinking Pinot Grigio, while 2 Yankee Candles flicker, and he plays Golf, and I feel fantastic. I have answers, therefore I have questions. I have butterflies in my stomach every time I think or talk about him and we’re excited about our future together. I have a job that I love and that teaches me something new every day. I’m perfectly fine hanging out by myself and working from home, taking reading breaks, eating cheese. Life’s good.
I wish I had much more to say, but unfortunately/fortunately, today I only get to rant about how I haven’t had an anxiety episode in a couple of weeks and everything that doesn’t make sense, just doesn’t matter, right now. Im in the now- and I don’t think I had ever felt this feeling. Pletorica. .