But I don't feel like it's like that anymore. I don't spend hours and hours on here like I used to. I only check in about 2 or 3 times a week, and only an hour each time. Really.

I'm so glad Amor told me how he felt. So we could talk about it. He knows how this is a creative outlet for me. He thinks I'm a good writer. He knows I missed my diary when I took 41 days off. He's just afraid I'm going to go back to escaping from him, go back to spending hours and hours on here. But I don't see that happening. That desire really isn't in me anymore, I just don't feel it. There's all these insecurities still between us that we're working out.

And it kills me every day to know it's my own fault that they're there.

But we're talking about it. When we feel it, we talk about it. We're a very engaging couple, Amor and I. We have something special together that nothing can touch, not even me going crazy for a little bit. We're stronger because of it, it's really amazing to see this happening. But it's painful, too - these growing pains, these growing-up pains. I love Amor so much.

I told him the moniker I chose from him, and he was very pleased. He said, "See? You always come up with something clever!"

I've been needy and not needy, while being sicky. It's driving Amor a little crazy. I came home from work (painful is the word I'd use to describe the last two days of work), walked in the door, and Amor asks me if I want some soup and a blanket to lie down on the couch with. I gruffly say "no" and went to the bedroom to change into my sicky clothes - sweatpants and a tank top with a shelf bra. Ah, comfy and unprofessional. Anyway, 5 minutes later I'm asking Amor to heat up some of that wonderful soup he made me last night as I'm plopping myself down on the couch with a blanket I got for myself from the bedroom.

Unbelievable.

I'm an asshole! I should let Amor take care of me more. I'm so frickin' difficult.

And funny. Amor was like, "See? I know you better than you know yourself." Which is so fucking true and absolutely intriguing. What years with another human being will reveal about yourself...

***************************

So Amor's out at a graduation party of a friend of ours that I'm not attending because of my current gross exudative state. I'd have to bring a whole box of 9uffs 9lus with me and not drink and be all lethargic and miserable all night. Not nice.

Instead, I'm sitting on the couch with a hoarse voice, on antibiotics (a doctor at the hospital insisted, I'm in pretty rough shape) totally into Amor (he looked really hot when he walked out the door this evening, man, I'm missing out tonight) and probably going to go to sleep soon, unless I find some particularly bad television to watch.

No, Amor, I'm not escaping from you, Babe. Far from it.

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