More or less complete and utter happiness makes for boring journals, I know and apologize. 
It's so funny, I've been wanting this proposal for what seems like so very long now, and now that I've gotten it, it seems like I have nothing left to wish for. In a good way. And while I've always been good at enjoying the present, it seems like I've always had something to wish for on birthday candles and that firt star of the evening. And now? Now I'm good. Everything else in life follows logically from this step. Not that they weren't going to get here eventually without the ring at this very moment, but I so desperately wanted this little token, this totem. And just for those reasons, too, the symbolism of it all. All the rest, the big house, the kids, those things I can be patient for.
The absolute certainity of it all is absolutely exquisite to me. I believe in the foreverness of this unquestionably, like a child who doesn't know any better. And, ironically, I of all people should know better. But it's those past experiences that have lead me back to this place of believing in the existence of happily ever after. In my last relationship, I always knew that relationships, even good ones, could go bad. I had always acknowledged, intellectually, that Peter and I could maybe break up someday. I contemplated life without him, however unhappy I thought that might be. With Tony, I have absolutely no concept of a future that he's not a part of. Not in some big melodramatic way, like "Oh, I'd die if we were to ever break up!" But more literally, I can't think of life without him. Even when I make an effort, I can't imagine it in any real way. I think part of it is that I cannot believe there's anything he could possibly do to cause me any sort of pain more intense than the dull ache I get sometimes when we're apart. There is no "If we break up" scenarios in my head, because, simply, it's not going to happen. I know it sounds naive, but to me, it is simply truth. And to me, it's so out of place to have such absolute faith anything. You know what? It's fun.
From the "In every life a *little* rain must fall" file, my job is becoming more and more frustrating. Not the actual work itself, which is, at least 50% of the time, entirely non-taxing. As a matter of fact, I'm at work right now (with the pictures on my browser disabled). But the schedule is annoying at least. My hours have been cut back, for the time being, to 3.5 hours a day, five days a week. But I don't know that a week has gone by yet this year where I've only worked what I expected to in a week. Sometimes I'll get up to 4 days notice, like last Tuesday, when I was asked to come in on Saturday. More often I'm on my way or already at work when on of the parents will call asking me to stay late. And what do you say to that? "No, I've got plans, I'm leaving at 6 whether or not you're here?" In addition to being asked to stay late on a regular basis (and occasionally not being asked), it's also not unusual for me to get same day calls asking me to come in early, or to tell me I'm working in Castro Valley as opposed to Pleasanton, where I usually work, which adds 15 minutes to my commute. And since I set my alarm such to allow me just enough time to get ready and get to work, those calls don't really work for me.
I'd prefer more, but I don't mind working so few hours. What I hate is that it's ~18, stretched out over 5 days. I'd much rather prefer to do that in 2 or 3 days. I mean, once I've gone to work, most days are socially shot. And it severally cuts into the time I get to spend with my boy if he's working. If I get held over even 15 minutes, that pretty much means no Tony time for me that day. *sigh* Life is so hard when you're me.
The ever changing schedule just drives me crazy. If I wasn't so damned attched to these kids, I'd be looking for a new job this very second.
It's so funny, I've been wanting this proposal for what seems like so very long now, and now that I've gotten it, it seems like I have nothing left to wish for. In a good way. And while I've always been good at enjoying the present, it seems like I've always had something to wish for on birthday candles and that firt star of the evening. And now? Now I'm good. Everything else in life follows logically from this step. Not that they weren't going to get here eventually without the ring at this very moment, but I so desperately wanted this little token, this totem. And just for those reasons, too, the symbolism of it all. All the rest, the big house, the kids, those things I can be patient for.
The absolute certainity of it all is absolutely exquisite to me. I believe in the foreverness of this unquestionably, like a child who doesn't know any better. And, ironically, I of all people should know better. But it's those past experiences that have lead me back to this place of believing in the existence of happily ever after. In my last relationship, I always knew that relationships, even good ones, could go bad. I had always acknowledged, intellectually, that Peter and I could maybe break up someday. I contemplated life without him, however unhappy I thought that might be. With Tony, I have absolutely no concept of a future that he's not a part of. Not in some big melodramatic way, like "Oh, I'd die if we were to ever break up!" But more literally, I can't think of life without him. Even when I make an effort, I can't imagine it in any real way. I think part of it is that I cannot believe there's anything he could possibly do to cause me any sort of pain more intense than the dull ache I get sometimes when we're apart. There is no "If we break up" scenarios in my head, because, simply, it's not going to happen. I know it sounds naive, but to me, it is simply truth. And to me, it's so out of place to have such absolute faith anything. You know what? It's fun.
From the "In every life a *little* rain must fall" file, my job is becoming more and more frustrating. Not the actual work itself, which is, at least 50% of the time, entirely non-taxing. As a matter of fact, I'm at work right now (with the pictures on my browser disabled). But the schedule is annoying at least. My hours have been cut back, for the time being, to 3.5 hours a day, five days a week. But I don't know that a week has gone by yet this year where I've only worked what I expected to in a week. Sometimes I'll get up to 4 days notice, like last Tuesday, when I was asked to come in on Saturday. More often I'm on my way or already at work when on of the parents will call asking me to stay late. And what do you say to that? "No, I've got plans, I'm leaving at 6 whether or not you're here?" In addition to being asked to stay late on a regular basis (and occasionally not being asked), it's also not unusual for me to get same day calls asking me to come in early, or to tell me I'm working in Castro Valley as opposed to Pleasanton, where I usually work, which adds 15 minutes to my commute. And since I set my alarm such to allow me just enough time to get ready and get to work, those calls don't really work for me.
I'd prefer more, but I don't mind working so few hours. What I hate is that it's ~18, stretched out over 5 days. I'd much rather prefer to do that in 2 or 3 days. I mean, once I've gone to work, most days are socially shot. And it severally cuts into the time I get to spend with my boy if he's working. If I get held over even 15 minutes, that pretty much means no Tony time for me that day. *sigh* Life is so hard when you're me.
The ever changing schedule just drives me crazy. If I wasn't so damned attched to these kids, I'd be looking for a new job this very second.
I'm extremely happy for you and Tony.