Self-Amusement

I'd like to dedicate this one to Erin. So, Erin, you won the jackpot today. :)

I was just laughing at myself. Well, maybe more like an inside kind of laugh, not a ha-ha kind, but still, it was a self-realizing kind of moment. I've got this little thing called PMS, and it's always taking me to new heights. Or maybe lows. Something new, anyway.

So I'm standing outside myself, and I'm laughing on the inside, but I'm also lamenting my womanhood. I'm laughing because I've spent the last couple days--and a lot of today--obsessing over why my boobs hurt enormously. And, speaking of enormous, I swear they're bigger. I'm running down reasons why my girls are aching and I'm thinking the worst. Some sort of magical pregnancy, maybe? It can't be PMS, I'm thinking. It's too soon. And I don't have any other symptoms--like weeping over cheesy TV shows or because the cats didn't want to eat the food I gave them.

Then, while I'm still on the inside, I have an emotional breakdown. And afterward, I step outside and give myself a once-over... and I nod. "Yep," I think. "PMS for sure."

Even the way it started was tell-tale. I was sitting here on my bed, looking at the phone. I wanted to call him. I really wanted to call him. But no. I wasn't going to allow myself to do it. Then the phone rings, and it plays his song, and a big smile creeps onto my face.

I've been missing him. All day. I wished he'd invite me, because I'd go. Mostly, I wished he were an impulsive kind of guy who would just show up at my door--just know that I needed him and show up at my door. Why aren't lovers in the same sync in real life as they are in movies? If this were a movie, he'd have been here hours ago with flowers in his hand, and I'd be smiling at him instead of at myself from the outside.

So after we'd talked awhile, I decided it would be worth the drive to be able to sit there with him, and I announced my decision. Then he said I should stay home.

First, surprise. Second, anger. Third, tears.

I'll skip the details. Sometimes I wish he were a little less sensible, but I guess it's a good thing.

Here's a surprise: he said he understood. Incredulously, I asked, through tears, "What do you understand?" Read: "You have no idea, buddy." He said he understood I was having an emotional night. Apologized for hurting my feelings. Said the L word.

Even with teary eyes, I hung up smiling.

And now I'm sitting here quietly, amused by myself, and wishing I could hug the man who made me cry and smile and laugh today.