So y'know that last post? About hurt, and how I felt when Pookie and I up and quit on each other? And, let's face it, I was playing a bit of the blame game as well.
Yea, bout that. We're back. To being disgustingly happy with one another.
We aren't perfect. What couple is? But we're mending.
Our biggest problem, I think, is that we're scared to piss each other off. Whenever we get pissed, we have a habit of holding it in.
I, especially, have this problem. I don't like talking sincerely - especially about feelings. Ugh. It's not that I don't want to talk about them, specifically - it's that I can't. There's this sort of block that happens in my throat that makes talking near but impossible, and it's just so much easier to divert the attention to something less painful.
I'm much better at writing what I'm feeling.
I'm not going to go into all of what was said between the two of us - because some things are personal and should be kept so. But, long story short, I stopped by his apartment to drop off some of his miscellanous goods that I had lurking around my car and home (a tee shirt, an umbrella, random jar of nutella) that I couldn't stand seeing anymore. We got to talking, which led to both of us collapsing and crying like babies and eventually cumulating in him kissing me senseless.
It was all like...wowza.
Needless to say, he still makes my toes curl.