Like a Penny with a Hole in it

Mood: Pensive
Music: Around you - Ingrid Michaelson
Date/Time: Friday, 3rd July, 2009/4:08AM

Hi, my name is Allison and I am a hopeless romantic.
It's true. At heart I'm a poet, and I like extending romantic gestures as much as I like receiving them.

My first love, would buy me cards and hand write little love notes to me. Presenting the card with my favourite chocolate - half of which he would eat just because he loves chocolate as much as me.
He was kind and gentle, and one of the ways he showed his love was cooking every single meal when we were together. I always loved that, except for the time he almost killed me by serving me something I was allergic to.
I was upset then, but in retrospect I have to giggle whenever I think about it.


My second love would send me little love notes via text and e-mail - I think because he has such horrid handwriting.
I don't have those texts any more - they have been long deleted - but there were some gems.
He is a creative soul, and was good at hand making gifts - which I love because that's something I love doing for others. He was also great in the kitchen, and would cook all the meals when we were together - unless it was at my house.

I'm such a lucky girl to have been in two serious relationships where the men spoiled me in certain ways.

And I never thought I'd say this, but I miss being in a relationship where I would sit in the kitchen and watch my man cook in his boxers. Where the consequence of me feeling him up in his boxers was burned eggs or a slap on the hand with a spatula.

I realize the romantic inside me - misses those things - those gestures:
...handwritten love letters and chocolate.
...texts that go on and on with professions of love.
...flowers.

I had to ask myself, do I miss the persons that extended the gestures - or just the gestures?
And I decided the answer was both.
To answer any other way would be a lie.

My mind has been restless - with thoughts of the current and the past - and it's amazing the flood of emotion that has come with these memories I've been indulging in for the sake of writing a decent manuscript outline.
I sat and read some entries from my old blog, entries from when I first met my last boyfriend.
I plan to go to my mother's house soon and retrieve my old diaries to see what I wrote about my first boyfriend.

Sometimes trips down memory lane can be both good and bad. But something tells me that I will be writing in my blog about these two men a lot more than I expected while this journey continues.
I apologize if that seems myopic on my part, as I assure you there's more to my life than them.
However, consider this my diary, and you are privileged enough to read the words.

I need to clear my thoughts, and you dear reader - are my sounding board. This is not a paid position.

Love,
Ally.

Photo Credit: Allison Walking Along the Jetty; Sunday, 30th January, 2005