This feeling is so unsettling. I’m consumed with your thoughts to the point where I can no longer breathe. Why is it so difficult for me to just tell you that I miss you? Why is it so difficult to actually say what’s on my mind? Why can’t I just not think of you? Why do you always have to be in my head all the time?
It was Sunday and, more importantly, the morning after my wooing of Harry. I wanted nothing more than to be nestled up beside his warm body, a tattooed arm keeping me firmly pressed against him. Instead I was trying to convince a two year old that starting preschool tomorrow was not the end of the world. Neither of us were impressed.
<b>Jim:</b> They say in there's a possibility that there's exactly one murderer in every group of friends.<p/><b>Jim:</b> I think it's Carl Powers<p/><b>Jim:</b> ...<p/><b>Jim:</b> So I killed him<p/><b>Jim:</b> To make sure nobody gets hurt, of course<p/></p>
I drew these in the car because I’m a masochist like that. I’m sorry for the lack of updating I’ve been moving back and forth between states again and again to get everything from the old house to the new one just in time to leave for canada again in a couple of days so it’s been hectic af.
Having a boyfriend was a surreal concept to me and one which I was still trying to wrap my head around. It didn’t matter that I’d been sleeping next to him for months now. I had to be dense, surely, because the fact that we kissed and held hands, that we’d had sex, that I told him I loved him, none of it really seemed to have sunk in. I’d met a nanny when I’d picked Lux up from pre-school one day this week and whilst making small talk, she’d asked me if I was single. Confirming that ‘yes, of course I’m single’ was so ingrained in me that by the time I finished really thinking about it and had replied that I actually did have a boyfriend, she had to believe I was lying.
I needed to fulfill my new role of girlfriend better.