I have suspected from the very beginning of our relationship that I might in fact be dreaming, but now I am sure of it and I hope I never wake up. Woke up in our usual tangle, with one of B’s delicious legs thrown over me, arms wrapped around each other and my mouth against his temple in a too-hot but too-lovely-to-break-out-of sleepy embrace. My Valentine’s Day began at this beautiful boutique hotel B has booked for us here in Edinburgh, and the moment I woke trying to get even closer to him, which wasn’t possible despite my best efforts to encapsulate the man I love like a love sick octopus.
I can’t remember why we laughed so much last night. I’m sure something must have set us off, that there was a specific reason why we laughed so hard, but it was definitely before B decided to put my knickers on his head, which made him look like a scary French maid.
I gave B the little notebook I bought when we’d only dated a couple of weeks, in which I have noted down little moments as we’ve gone along – moments when he’s said or done something that made me very happy. To be fair, it’s a very sparse representation of how happy he makes me and only a small snapshot of how much he means to me. I was almost horrified to learn I have yet another present coming after already being so spoilt, something he forgot to pack. Jeez. I don’t know what I’ll have to pull off for B’s birthday after all this.