Outside, the sky is a milky grey and it is snowing lightly in spite of the bitter cold, inside I feel cautiously happy.
Granted, fear is never far, I find it hard to believe in myself, to relax into the present, but when I do…
It feels as warm as a tartiflette straight out of the oven on a cold day, as light and fluffy as my (legendary) chocolate mousse, as sweet as a tarte tatin. Erm, can you tell I’m in a (still ridiculous – someone shoot me, please) bakey mood?
Now I just have to hope that the fragile snowflakes of my budding relationship don’t get squashed under the boots of a reality squad, or melted by the returning Spring.
In spite of, and perhaps because of the good times, I keep having to battle through waves of debilitating insecurity, blinding panic, every time I feel myself getting more attached to Mr Nice.
And however hard it is at the time, I have learned that it helps not to share these moments with Mr Nice, and to keep forcing myself to behave like my normal, secure self. Mr Nice knows how insecure I am, but I don’t want my problem to weigh on our relationship.
So I tend to plague my sister and a couple of trusted friends with some special “I’m sure it’s all over, I’m going to ruin everything” phone calls. Being talked down from my rooftop of fear and irrationality usually helps, and I have noticed that Mr Nice tends to ring when I’m in the middle of those conversations… Either he is tapping my phone, or he has a sixth sense…
One day, I am hopeful to have built enough security in myself that I don’t need so much external support.
Until that day comes, let’s move to the most intellectual dance anthem of the moment…
Pitbull- International love