You’re right about the weekend we just went through. It made me realize how much you mean to me and why I want to make you happy.
Yours truly is heeding your advice and taking things as they come. Less worry, more hope. That’s what you thought me and I’m following this mantra.
And of course I’ll promise you those three things and many many more. They’re for my own good and ours to. One can definitely have fun without being the bell of the ball :)
We are going to go watch outdoor movies, laze around in our pjs, stuff our faces full of chocolate(just me) and everything else when you get back. Because I want to get to do everything with you and drive you nuts of course. That goes without saying.
So, what age would be right? One mentioned 30, but what does he know about that biological clock we women have strapped on our backs right? I was thinking 28, but that other one said that’s cutting it close. So what then, 26? Hm. That’s like what, 4 years or so. Gosh, that’s almost hurried. The dear one said I worry too much and deep down and surface top, I know he’s right. I’ll let things flow by, breathe the air, and keep my head above water for now.
Although, he does worry me when all he says to a heck ton of messages is a two-word reply. As disheartening as it may be, maybe he’s being the wonderful son he is and helping out and all. Still, I could feel a little strain. He matters more than anything and I hope he knows that. I need to learn the art of telling him things.