What A Difference A Day Makes

Yesterday was very weird. Further to our intense conversation and my oddly strong reaction to it, the day seemed to get worse. BFTP and I spoke at lunchtime, but I found myself unable to feel positively or even to express myself much verbally. I could feel myself wanting to lash out, not necessarily directed at or because of him, but just out of inexplicable frustration. I tried to explain over the phone and then by text when he decided it might be best if he leave the phone conversation, but I think I made things worse. I felt like saying "F*%$ you, world! Whatever!" I just felt miserable and I didn't completely understand why.

I called the Mrs, but knew she was out with her Boy and I couldn't get hold of her. I called Lolly and she soon made me smile. I think I just needed to let off steam and vent some frustration and then things felt better. BFTP and I made the decision to not talk that evening as we were both exhausted. I felt bad that he had been having a really busy day and all I had done was give him extra stress by acting like an utter bitch. I felt embarrassed, but most of all I missed him. I felt like it served me right for being difficult. You can't be weird around people and then feel outraged when they want to spend time away from you! I went home and felt miserable. I ate some dinner while Big Sis and Bro-in-Law decided to make the most of what was left of the hottest day of the year and go for a walk, as well as some food shopping. It was the first time in a while that I had a brief moment of fear at the thought of being alone. Knowing that I had agreed to give BFTP some space to chill out, I realised that I would have to be all alone with my thoughts. Oh dear, bad mood. It's just me and you tonight.

By 8.00pm, I just wanted to go to bed. I was fed up, but it was still too light outside and I didn't actually feel sleepy enough for that to not bother me. Instead, I chilled out and watched some CSI, made myself some tea, took my medication and generally tried not to feel restless. I remembered there were some albums I wanted to burn that were on Big Sis' computer, so I went to do those. I ran the bath. Big Sis and Bro-in-Law arrived back, Big Sis extremely pleased with some bargain purchases. I remembered there was a song that I wanted to send to BFTP. I thought it might make things better. I emailed it to him, with the lyrics, and then sent him a text to let him know, saying that I knew he was chilling and there was no need to reply. Despite me saying that, when he didn't reply I felt lonelier than ever, but I knew I had to respect the space that I had effectively brought on myself.

I cleaned my teeth. I had a nice soak in a hot bath, scrubbed and massaged my aching feet a little and washed my hair. When I got out and started getting ready for bed, I checked my phone. Still nothing. When you've spoken pretty much every night for a couple of weeks, an evening apart feels like ages. I put on another episode of CSI to watch while I slathered myself in body lotion, my hair in anti-frizz serum and my face in cream that would hopefully sort out the shocking state of my skin lately. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget this day ever happened. I got in bed, took some Night Nurse and watched the rest of the programme, while waiting for the familiar drowsiness to hit me. I sent BFTP a text: "Sleep well. X" No reply. The episode ended and I knew I couldn't do my usual trick of fighting against my tiredness to watch episodes back to back, only to wake up in the middle of the night with my laptop still on my bed and my light on. I switched everything off and put it away and laid down to sleep. It was before 11.00pm. This is very early for me.

I am woken up at 3am by a text from BFTP. He fell asleep at his sister's and didn't get my earlier messages. I am relieved, but am too drowsy to reply. Fast forward 6 hours and I am having déjà vu. I am woken by a text from BFTP. I haven't called him as usual for our morning devotional. He hazards a guess that I am still wanting space, but admits that he is finding it hard and misses me much. I check the time. 8.55am. The latest train I can usually get to just about reach work on time is at 9.00am. Eek. I think I may have missed that one. I rush to get up, washed and dressed and am thankful I have done some laundry recently and thus have plenty of clean clothes to choose from. I lament the fact that when I go to sleep with slightly damp hair, I wake up looking like Bon Jovi. I spray some leave-in conditioner on it, then shrug and sigh and decide I will practice mirror-avoidance more than usual today. I rush downstairs and nearly topple over trying to put my sandals on. I rush to the station, praying I won't miss the 9.15am train, but am thankfully there for 9.15. The train gets in on time.

I call BFTP and he is pleased to hear from me. I explain that I woke up late and wasn't ignoring him. I have missed him. Things feel back to normal. He reads our devotional, but has to go unexpectedly to speak to a workman who is fitting something in their kitchen. I call him back when I am almost at work. He says he is happy for us to forget about the day before. I am conscious that this would be preferable for me, but that deep down he might just want to tell me about myself! He assures me that he doesn't have a problem with it. We decide to pray as we didn't get a chance to after our reading. He admits he doesn't feel like it and I identify with that feeling. I offer to pray instead, although I am walking to work from the bus stop. We pray together and both feel much better. I really love the fact that we can share this part of our relationship. I am outside my office and am just on time. I thank him for being patient with me. He replies that he can't be anything else, because he doesn't want to lose me. I smile. I am still feeling groggy from my abundance of medication-aided sleep, but I am awake enough to know how very blessed I am.