Can we talk…?

I am dating an introvert.

That means so many things; but foremost it means that conversations even remotely encroaching the R word (Relationship) are greeted with a glottal stop, reduced mid-central unrounded vowel, long glottal fricative followed by a potential ostriching into the nearest pillow.

This is always but is even more exaggerated when he is in a recuperative cycle of introversion – when he really needs alone time. Sure, I should probably know better than to approach him at such times. But, as an extrovert dating an introvert, I have a canny need to have relationship conversations mostly when he is being a hermit.

And then, every once in a while, Andrew surprises the crap out of me – probably just to stop me from trying to have relationship conversations with him.

As many of you know I had my ACL reconstructed January 24, 2012. I have been on the mend since, often pushing myself beyond my limits to try and force the healing process to move faster (This method of healing totally works which is why it is the preferred method of doctors. Also ignoring pains and aches is a great way to not actually have anything wrong with you – because if it isn’t diagnosed, you don’t have it).*

When I had the surgery, my surgeon told me that it would take about 18 months for me to heal to the point where I am at my new 100%. I only remember that because every time I had a setback – and that was frequent because of all the pushing I did – Andrew was right there telling me to buck up because it hadn’t been 18 months yet.

Then, suddenly it was July 24. I got home around 9:30 at night after a rehearsal with one of my performance groups. Andrew was out teaching at a different group. I walked in and puttered around the house when suddenly I saw on the kitchen counter a beautiful bouquet of flowers (that in and of themselves floored me) and a card. The card was a lovely message from Andrew telling me how much he loves me and that it was the 18th month anniversary of my surgery and that I am strong (I am paraphrasing).

I cried.

Then I posted on Facebook that I am truly loved.

Then an amazing thing happened. A bunch of my friends, who knew not why I posted that I was truly loved, either liked my status or commented that it was true. And that made me cry a little more. I was so overwhelmed with love and emotion and wanted to share that with someone. And, dear reader, it had to be you because if I wanted to talk to Andrew about my feelings I would probably just get an annoying noise teenagers make.



* Author’s disclaimer: I often use sarcasm to make a point. If you don’t get that then you should probably not read my blog. Or you should read my blog and do what I say and then sue me for liability to the damage I have caused by you relying on my advice.**

**Author’s disclaimer of disclaimer: Don’t actually do what I say. Even if it sounds like sound advice. Because although I am almost always right, you cannot be trusted to distinguish between my sarcasm and non-sarcasm and I don’t want to be at fault for your injuries. Also, I don’t have money, so don’t sue me. All I have is this blog about me being a klutz.***

***I am not a lawyer, but I am pretty sure if you get injured reading my blog that I will have to relinquish the name of klutz to you.


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