I considered myself a pretty independent person before.
I had my own money.
I had my own house.
I had my own rules.
I loved my alone time.
Needed my alone time.
I would re-watch Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings or True Blood episodes all the time.
I would eat ice cream out of the container sitting on my couch.
I would make ‘single girl noodles’ (spaghetti with butter and shredded cheese melted on top)
I did have to call my parents for help with things; food when I was hung over, letting Rocky out if I was staying out late, having my dad pick up the dead baby animals in my back yard while I cried.
But for the most part I was set in my ways and ok with where I was and proud of it; I was independent.
Then I met Jerry.
At first I still needed my alone time.
I’d have a couple nights a week just for me.
As a single person, you get used to doing what you want, when you want, how you want.
I actually had to learn to compromise on this and Jerry was a good teacher.
I just find it funny that two years ago I HAD TO HAVE my alone time.
Now Jerry is gone for 3 nights and I feel like the world doesn’t make sense anymore.
Alone time is not something I crave or want anymore.
I want my time with him.
I like his hugs and his smile.
His laugh and his kisses.
The way he interacts with his daughter.
I like that he checks to make sure I am getting out of bed in the morning.
I like that he will iron my pants if I need him too.
I like when we are together talking about random things.
I like when he’s 3 blocks over during the work day and if I need a hug or just to see him I can call him to meet me.
I do not like when he’s away.
I do not like when he is out of reach.
This week was the first time we’d been apart for more than a night since the beginning of our relationship.
He is the reason my life makes sense now.
He is the reason I view every day with a new happiness.
He is the reason I am proud to say I am no longer independent.
I need him.
I want him.
I like having someone love me and care for me.
And he does a great job at both.