Dear Mr Geek,
I’d like to write something profound about the rejuvenating qualities of spending time with your best friends. Certainly calmer and a bit more pragmatic than I was a few days ago.
Due in part to my brain soaking in oramorph, I will stick instead to a Julie Andre’s style list of things that you do. A few of my favourite things if you will…
Making light of things with blatant innuendo. You see the breast in everyone.
Kneading my shoulders. I wind myself up tighter than a tightly wound thing and add to my muscle knots and tension headaches by being Anxiety Girl. You methodically go through and untangle those muscles and manage to calm my nerves at the same time.
Providing food. It sounds simple doesn’t it? But I just wasn’t in the right place to start eating today and the “better” feeling from fasting is alluring. You tempted me with nuts & chocolate until I stopped wearing the retaliation from my intestines for eating.
Stroking my hair. This one is odd. I don’t like other people seeing the current state of my hair and so it highlights how comfortable I am around Mr & Mrs GypsyTree having unwrapped my scarves this evening. But instead of wanting to hide my hair from you, I like that the hair that is left is kept back as a gift for just you. What this means is when we lay in bed and you stroke my hair, it’s so much more intimate and creates a little bubble around us where everything is OK.
I’ve felt so unwell this week and I appreciate that you’ve recognised that and adjusted yourself accordingly even though you’ve been stressed out of your mind too. Things always feel much better when we throw poop at it together. We’re a team. And even if I am barely able to string a sentence together, I love you very very much.